Chapter Five

The next day around noon Kit sat at the table in the workroom of Rosie’s Bridals with an odiferous, foil-wrapped package in front of her. “ ‘Buy the house on the river,’ I said.” She unfolded the foil. The heat from the chili dog wafted with succulent aroma to her nose. “ ‘It’ll be fun to own a fixer-upper. Fun,’ I said. So much fun.”

Rylee looked up from a carton of supplies she was unloading. “I can smell you a mile away.”

“I have issues.” Kit lifted the pungent sandwich to her mouth. “Going straight to hell.” She took a big bite.

“Is this about the lack of money or your cousin coming to the shop today?”

“Both.” She swallowed. “And don’t forget the fireman factor.”

“Are you leaning toward renting him the loft?”

“I don’t know. What would you do, Rylee? I mean, I know nothing about the guy. He could be an axe murderer. Firemen have axes.”

“Based on what you’ve said, he comes highly recommended by your friend Hop. I don’t think Hop would steer you wrong. Besides, you said this fireman seemed nice.”

She took another bite and mulled her friend’s words while she chewed. “Yeah, but what do I know about judging men? I thought Brian was the one.”

A female voice came from out in the main showroom. “Hello,” the voice called with a trail of the o sound. “Anybody home?”

Kit knew that childish singsong cadence. Her cousin Co-Co. A cringe climbed up her spine as if it were wearing combat boots. She pulled her gaze over to Rylee and mouthed a stab me while jerking her index finger toward her eye several times.

“You want me to go tell her we need to reschedule,” Rylee whispered.

Kit let out a hissing breath. She gulped half a bottle of spring water. “No.” She took another sip. “There’s no avoiding her.” She dabbed a napkin on her mouth and stood up from the worktable. “Aside from this being an opportunity for the store, I don’t want anybody in my family thinking I’m upset about this stupid wedding. Any misstep on my part would be taken as sour grapes. I wouldn’t give that one out there the satisfaction.”

“Okay, but just say the word, and we pull the plug on this deal.”

Kit produced a smile that felt too big for her face. “I’ve got this.” Then she belched.

****

When Kit emerged from the back room, she cast her gaze on the two of them, Co-Co along with her mother, Kit’s Aunt Dee Dee. Co-Co had a white vinyl garment bag slung over one arm. The mother and daughter duo broke out in grins as they stood there with their same strategic blonde highlighting sprinkled through their matching shoulder-length bobs. They might have been wearing the same coral-toned lip gloss, too. Kit manufactured a happy face while her belly tumbled around with too much hot dog and chili.

“There she is.” Aunt Dee Dee came up to Kit and wrapped her in a strong hug.

She smelled of potpourri or a funeral parlor. Kit couldn’t tell. But the pungent aroma of floral overload wreaked havoc in her already-uneasy stomach. She swallowed hard. A bead of sweat broke out at her hairline.

With a look of appall, Aunt Dee Dee waved a hand in front of her face. “Have we interrupted your lunch, dear?”

“No, I was through.”

Co-Co pulled a face. “What did you have?”

Kit lifted her chin. “A chili dog.”

“Oh my.” Aunt Dee Dee placed a hand to her chest. Her mascara-laden lashes fluttered like spastic spiders as she cast a gaze down Kit’s form. “Salads, dear. They’re a much better choice for lunch.”

“Kale,” Co-Co added with an encouraging nod. “You’ll love kale once you get used to it. Chop it, though, so you don’t choke.”

Kit coughed over the sound of the rumbling in her stomach. She had to get this over with. She pointed to the garment bag. “Yes, so is this it?”

Dee Dee grinned, and Kit couldn’t help noticing how her coral lipstick had bled into the small crevices around her mouth, almost like a starburst around her pie hole. It wasn’t as if she didn’t appreciate Aunt Dee Dee. She was Mom’s only sister, younger by two years. But all during her growing up, Dee Dee had been a pain in the ass and blind as a damn bat when it came to her precious little Co-Co and her deviousness.

Kit’s mom and Dee Dee were both widowed now, and they couldn’t be living more diverse lives in their retirement years. Dee Dee lived vicariously through her only child, hovering like a helicopter around Co-Co as much as when she was a kid growing up.

Kit’s mom, Regina, was out living one adventure after the other. She was rarely home at her little condo at an active adult community in Essex County. Currently, she was on a two-week mahjong cruise in the Western Caribbean. Did Mom even know about the engagement and the plans for Gram’s wedding gown?

“I have some ideas for making changes to Grammy’s dress.” Co-Co made her glossy mouth bunch into an exaggerated pout. “Just a couple of teeny-tiny ones.”

Kit’s stomach twirled like a carnival ride. She watched Co-Co with her french manicure and that dazzling diamond on her finger unzip the garment bag to reveal the vintage wedding gown, one Kit recognized very well. The pearly-toned, bias-cut satin, the beading on the pointed sleeves on the gown she herself had hoped to wear one day. Being six months older than Co-Co, she was the one in line for Gram’s gown. But that would require a groom, and Co-Co had him. She had the guy, and she had the dress. Kit had a stomach roiling with a poor lunch decision.

Kit eyed the subtle lines of the dress, its timelessness. The old photograph of her grandmother on her wedding day that she kept in a frame on her dresser came to mind. Gram’s hair was prim in that sausage-roll style, her padded shoulders sharp and elegant. Tucked in the side of the frame was another snapshot of her grandmother, one Kit’s own mom had given to her after she’d cleaned her attic. Gram was alone in the photo and bore the most magnificent smile she’d ever worn. In the black-and-white photo, Gram’s dress—maybe an Easter outfit, Kit didn’t know—appeared a pale gray. But Mom had told her it had been pearly-pink sateen, which she couldn’t fathom. Kit just didn’t get pink, too girly maybe, or too fussy. The only pink she liked was a nice cold glass of zinfandel. But she did like the sparkly rhinestone buckle on the belt. That had been a nice touch and so much like Gram. Always with a hint of whimsy. She’d so loved Gram.

Gram had told Kit to choose well when it came to her wedding dress and to the husband she would wear it for, and like that, she thought of Brian.

Her mind replayed the moment when Brian had finally caught up to her when she’d lost steam running from him Christmas Eve. Her feet in the ruined patent-leather flats were frozen and numb, and she had wished the painful deadness had climbed up to her heart. His voice was alive in her mind, his apologizing a million times, telling her he and Co-Co just couldn’t help themselves because they were destined for each other. Even as she tried to banish the thoughts, her insides went round and round, making noises like rocks in a dryer.

“Will you help me make Grammy’s dress perfect for my wedding?” Co-Co bit her lower lip. “Please, Kitty-Cat? This is the most important thing in my life.”

Kitty-Cat. She hated that nickname, hated that this cousin of hers had snatched up a family heirloom to make it her own. The dress was her most important thing? What would this little twit do if a one-hundred-year-old tree had slammed on top of her car and she had no money to rectify the situation?

How was she supposed to respond to this girl? Sure, go ahead, take the guy, and take the dress? Before Kit could say a thing, though, she reached down for the wastebasket by the desk and emptied herself of too much chili dog in one awful wretch.