♥♥♥
Saturday, August 25—Chicago Area
Nine days before the wedding, I fly to Chicago with Jake, Amelia, and Dylan. Amelia decided to come with us a week in advance to spend some time with her family and finally introduce Dylan to them. They’re staying at an inn in our hometown. As for me, I’m staying at my parents’ house in my old room, and Jake’s at his parents’ too. We’re just a block away and it’ll be fun to sneak out of the house and rediscover all our old meeting spots in the neighborhood.
We land in Chicago early on Saturday morning and I don’t even have the time to take a shower before my mother and sister whisk me away to go shopping for a wedding dress. I know—with just a week to go before the wedding, it’s crazy not to have a dress. I’ll have to make do with whatever dresses the stores already have in stock, and a week’s barely enough time for the fitting. But I’m confident I’ll be able to find a wonderful dress in the whole of Chicago, and I want to choose it with both my mom and Kassandra. And given our complicated family geography, I had to do it here.
So here we are. Amelia’s coming too—she put Dylan to bed then joined us at our house in time to leave—as is Mrs. Wilder, Jake’s mom. I suspect she put Jake to bed before coming too. And I could use a bit of sleep too after a sleepless night on the long flight from London, but I guess the wedding shopping adrenaline’s running strong in my blood because I don’t feel as exhausted as I should.
Nonetheless, when the shopping assistant at the wedding store asks me if I’d like a glass of champagne while she shows us some options, I ask her for a double shot espresso instead.
I choose six of the dresses she presents us and leave my audience comfortably settled in plush settees to go change into the first one. The assistant helps me pull it on and pins it at the back to make it fit. When she’s done, she gently grabs me by the shoulders and turns me toward the mirror. I blink.
For a second I’m overwhelmed. This is it. I’m getting married. Once the initial shock wears off, I stare at the dress more closely. It’s a romantic design made of tulle and Chantilly with a layered skirt. And the bateau neckline is decorated with gemstones. It looks good. But I don’t feel any special bonding with it.
I go out to see what the others think.
I’ve barely walked out and my mom’s already in tears. Everyone else seems close to joining her, and even Kassandra’s usual swagger is a bit subdued. The shop assistant seems to be the only one aware of my indecision; she squeezes my hand and asks me if I’d like to try some other options. I nod and follow her back to the fitting room.
For the second dress, things go more or less the same: ooohs and aaaahs all around, tears from everyone but me, and a definitive no on my part.
But the moment the shopping assistant pulls up the zip of the third dress, I know we’ve found a winner. Finally tears well up in my eyes too and I take a minute to stare at my reflection before going out to the others. The assistant gives me a knowing nod and leaves me alone in the fitting room to have a private moment with The One Dress.
The gown’s in a plain white fabric, with no decorations, beads, or ruffles. It’s sleeveless with a bateau neckline and an A-line silhouette. The skirt has some volume and, I discover with delight, side pockets. I swirl to look at the back where a beautiful line of delicate buttons traces my spine. I wipe a few tears from my cheeks and walk out of the room, beaming.
***
After the dress fitting, I’m still not free to go rest as I have to drive to the lake with Mrs. Wilder to oversee the final preparations for next week. Jake’s mom has kept me up to date on everything via Skype, but she wants me to approve the last details in person. She still has to give the final okay to the landscape artist for flowers and decorations, to the baker for the wedding cake, and to the guys bringing up the tent she ordered in case it should rain.
Jake’s mom walks me around the property with a document holder in her hands, checking away items on her list as I give her my input.
“Flowers, cake, chairs, wedding gazebo, tent, photographer, tables map… we have everything.” She looks at me. “Of course, I ordered plastic flats for the ladies in case they don’t want to walk on the grass or sand in heels, and shawls should it get cold. We have a delivery of umbrellas coming in, even if the weather forecast’s good. Anything else?”
She looks at me then past my shoulder. I follow her gaze and see a team of Ghostbusters approaching, complete with work jumpsuits and proton packs.
“Who are they?”
“Oh dear, I almost forgot. The disinfestation’s today, we’d better go.”
“Disinfestation?”
“Yes—we don’t want you or the guests fending off mosquitos all night now, do we?”
My chest swells with a wave of gratitude. The last hour has made me appreciate how much pressure Jake’s mom took off my plate in organizing this wedding. I launch myself forward and hug her tight.
“Mrs. Wilder, I can’t begin to say how grateful I am you did all of this for us.”
“Oh hush, dear, it was nothing. And it’s about time you started calling me Susan.”
“Well, Susan. Thank you so much; I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you.”
“Just make my son happy, and perhaps,” she gives me a wicked smile, so similar to Jake’s it freaks me out for a second, “grandkids?”
“I’ll see what we can do.”
“Now let’s go before they disinfest us too.”
Once I get home, I take a quick shower, ask my mom to wake me up for dinner, and collapse on my bed, finally exhausted.