We pull into the hotel shortly before six. I’m slow to step from the vehicle, and I take a moment to stretch my aching muscles. It feels more like I ran a half-marathon than rode in an SUV all day. Hamilton keenly watches my every movement and subsequent expressions.
“I’m okay,” I promise. “Just spent too many hours in the car today.”
“Let’s get checked in so you can relax a bit before the rehearsal dinner.” Hamilton guides me with a firm hand on the small of my back. With his other hand, he rolls our luggage behind us.
I stand in line at the reception desk while another family checks in. A ping signals the opening of the elevator doors; with loud conversation, Savannah and Lincoln’s families spill out.
Savannah quickly spots me. I wave, and she scurries in my direction, wrapping me in a tight embrace.
“Savannah, you’re squeezing my bladder.” I beg for her to let up.
“Let’s pee.” Savannah tugs me by the hand. She turns to Lincoln and his family. “Pregnancy pee; we’ll be a few minutes.”
Inside the small bathroom made for one, she locks the door then leans her back against it with a sigh. Unable to hold myself any longer, I assume a seated position on the toilet.
“That bad?” I ask my stressed-out friend.
“You have no idea,” Savannah answers.
“So, fill me in. What happened since we talked yesterday morning?” After I flush, I wash my hands, looking to Savannah in the mirror.
She rolls her eyes in my direction before taking her turn on the toilet. “My wedding dress arrived.” Her tone tells me that this has been one of the worst things so far.
“Oh no,” I face her while drying my hands. “Does it not fit?”
Flushing, Savannah washes her hands near me at the sink as our eyes lock in the mirror.
“It’s hideous,” she informs. “It’s a white muumuu like my grandmother used to wear. Sure, it has some lace and a flower or two, but that doesn’t help.”
My friend looks as defeated as she sounds.
“I wanted to elope, but Lincoln agreed to a tiny ceremony to appease his mother. She offered to make all the arrangements while I dealt with Valentine’s Day in the bakery. Now, I’m paying for it,” she sighs, rubbing a hand down her face. “The guest list tops out over 150. She’s planned a ceremony, a dinner, and even hired a DJ for dancing.”
My mind reels with this new information. Unsure how to help, I rub my hand up and down her arm.
“The wedding dress resembles a tent.” Her voice cracks as her emotions take over. “It’s a giant, white, circus tent. It’s so big that it will still fit when I’m nine months pregnant!”
She tugs her cell phone out of her pocket, scrolling through photos. She passes the phone to me. She’s not exaggerating––it’s a muumuu. Certainly not a dress any women would choose for her wedding dress What mother. would pick this for her son’s fiancé?
“Sav,” I murmur and clear my throat. “We’ll fix this. First thing tomorrow, we’ll visit a dress shop. We won’t stop until we find the perfect dress for the wedding she planned.” I wipe tears from her cheeks. “I will not let you wear a muumuu to your wedding. Understand?”
Moments pass before Savannah nods.
“I can’t uninvite her guests or cancel the catering, but I can promise you that our Athens crew will help you enjoy the DJ.”
Savannah laughs through her remaining tears. “So, if I can make it through the ceremony and dinner, I’ll have fun?”
“Knowing Adrian,” I whisper in her ear, “she’ll find a way to help you enjoy the wedding and dinner, too. C’mon,” I urge. “Lincoln and Hamilton will worry if we don’t leave the bathroom soon.”
After one more swipe away of the tears, Savannah takes a deep, calming breath, fanning her face, and we open the heavy bathroom door.
“I was about to send a search party,” Hamilton’s deep, concerned voice greets us mere steps from the bathroom. “Everything okay?”
“When a girl’s gotta go, a girl’s gotta go,” Savannah spouts sarcastically.
Hamilton’s eyes dart to mine, silently seeking a sign. I give a tiny smile and nod to inform him all is okay.
Lincoln approaches, followed by his family,
Before he speaks, his mother bites out, “Finally. Come on now; it’s time to start the rehearsal.”
I thought we had an hour. I hoped to freshen up in our hotel room and change out of my travel clothes. Hamilton senses my dilemma.
“I’m sure they’d understand if you need to go to the room for a few minutes,” he whispers.
“It’s okay,” I lie. “Would you mind taking up our bags?”
“Do you need me to bring you anything?” he murmurs, not drawing attention to our conversation.
“I’d like my water bottle,” I confess. Keeping it nearby will ensure I stay hydrated. We can’t have the matron of honor suffering from fatigue and morning sickness. Savannah will be counting on me to be her buffer.
The sound of Lincoln’s mother rudely clearing her throat alerts us she’s displeased with my delay. Hamilton softly kisses my forehead before turning me towards her. With a gentle shove, he sends me on my way.
“What’s wrong with Savannah?” Hamilton whispers in my ear as we sit at a large table with Lincoln’s sister and parents in the nearby barbecue restaurant.
“For starters, the smell of spices and smoked meat is turning my stomach.” I admit. “I’m sure it’s upsetting her stomach, too, as she suffers from morning sickness constantly now.” I sip from my water glass before leaning closer to his ear. “They didn’t listen to her and Lincoln’s plans for the wedding, and, to top it all off, they chose a hideous gown for her to wear.”
“Seriously?” he whispers back.
I nod. “We’re taking her emergency dress shopping in the morning. I’ll be damned if I let them treat her this way.”
The next morning, we sneak out on our mission to find a wedding dress. “I’ll text you updates,” I inform Lincoln and Hamilton.
Savannah and I watch for a moment as they start toward the restaurant around the corner to wait for us.
Inside a bridal shop, I immediately explain the situation to the saleswoman. She’s appalled and enlists two other women to help us search their inventory. Savannah admits she’s not a fan of dresses and wants nothing flashy. They escort Savannah into a dressing room. I almost laugh as they scurry this way and that, placing options over the door for Savannah to try on. Wanting to help, I begin browsing a nearby rack.
I’ve found it! In my hands, I hold two white pantsuits. These will be perfect for Savannah. I quickly return to the dressing room door and knock three times.
“Savannah,” I call. “I think I found the perfect one. Well, I found two.”
Savannah cracks the door a couple of inches; on her face, I see her desperation. I pass the two hangers to her.
“I want to see them both,” I state, letting her know she will no longer try on items without modeling for us.
The moments that pass seem to take forever. I’m anxious to solve this issue for my friend.
“I’m coming out,” Savannah announces, opening the door.
“Oh Savannah,” I gasp. “Does the smile on your face mean you’ve found your wedding dress? I mean, suit.”
Savannah turns one way then another in front of the three-way mirror. Her smile reaches her eyes and color has returned to her cheeks. The clerks return sharing their approval, and Savannah’s glow grows brighter.
“It’s not very traditional,” Savannah states, worried what others might think.
“Anything goes in weddings nowadays,” the saleswoman declares. “A bride last week chose a green dress.”
Savannah and I smile wide-eyed at one another.
“You look perfect,” I state. “This is your wedding—your special day. You should wear what you’re comfortable with. Something that makes you feel like a princess on your special day.”
The women agree.
“I’ll take it,” Savannah proudly states.
As she slips into the changing room, I call after her, “I dare Lincoln’s mom to comment on your choice. I’ve got your back on this one.”
“I don’t want to cause a scene,” Savannah calls back through the door.
“Oh, there won’t be a scene,” I assure her. “I’ll get my point across discreetly I promise.”
I text the men to share our good news.
Me: we found one!
Hamilton: already
Me: it’s perfect
Me: stay put we’ll come to you
Me: we’re hungry
Hamilton: C U soon
Hamilton and Lincoln tease us about our eclectic food choices while Savannah and I nibble. Between the two of us, we ordered two appetizers and two meals to share. Of course, we will not eat half of it. It seems we craved a variety. They should just be glad we were hungry and not sick in the restroom.
“I’m wondering if I might ask another favor of the two of you,” Lincoln asks as the waiter clears our table.
“Of course,” Hamilton promptly replies.
“Savannah and I would like to elope and hope you’ll be our witnesses.” Lincoln leans in, placing a kiss at Savannah’s temple. “We searched the internet last night.”
“We found a site called KC Weddings 2 Go,” Savannah raises two fingers as she speaks. “They have a chapel in Independence, it’s a 15-minute drive, and we booked for one o’clock.”
Hamilton looks at his phone. “We better get on the road then,” he states, rising from the booth and extending a hand to assist me.
“And you were worried about what they’d think of your choice of attire for the wedding?” I tease a now blushing Savannah.
“We still plan to go through with my mother’s ruse of a wedding this evening,” Lincoln informs. “We just wanted to do it our way.”
“I love it,” I announce.
Hamilton leans in close; his whisper tickles my ear. “We’ll hurry back and squeeze in some alone time before the guests arrive tonight.”
Warmth settles in my belly with his words. I want nothing more than to dart back to our room right now. My pregnancy hormones kick in––the slightest touch revs my engine quickly.
I look from one side of the room to the other, needing to relieve myself before our next adventure. “We should…”
Hamilton speaks at the same time, “You should use the bathroom.”
Savannah and I head to the restroom amidst all of our laughter.