I was born with an enormous need for affection, and a terrible need to give it.
Audrey Hepburn
May eased its way into June, and before long the wedding shop was filled with more customers than we could handle—most preparing for June weddings. By the time we reached the first week in July, I was ready to collapse.
Not that I had time to rest. With wedding plans looming, I needed to stay focused. And I needed to encourage Brady, who—after many hours of prayer and conversation—had decided to try his hand once more at a new season with the Mavericks. Of course, this meant a lot of physical therapy. And hours on the court, testing his limits. This took him away from Cosmopolitan Bridal much of the time, but no one dared complain, not with his passion for basketball reigniting.
We somehow managed without him at the shop, but it sure did make for lonely days. On the first Tuesday in July, Alva asked if she could ride with me to the bridal salon.
“Itching to spend time with your fiancé?” I asked.
“Something like that.” She gave me a girlish smile. “I’ll take all the time I can get with him.”
This only made me long for Brady’s company even more. When we arrived at the store a short while later and I saw his truck in the parking lot, my heart almost burst into song.
“Brady’s here today.” I turned off the car and stared at his empty vehicle.
“Nothing too strange about that, right?” Alva asked.
“Oh, he usually spends the mornings at the gym or on the court. We rarely see him until later in the day.”
“Well, maybe he needs to be here for something special.” Alva shrugged.
“Looks like he’s not alone.” I shifted my gaze around the parking lot. “I can’t believe Hibiscus beat me here.”
“Hmm?” Alva looked up from her cell phone. “What, honey?”
“Oh, just saying that Hi is here. And Jane.” I pointed to her older-model sedan. “And Dahlia. And Twiggy. Just so strange. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I was late, not early.”
“Maybe they’re doing inventory or something,” my aunt said.
“Inventory.” I considered that. Maybe. But wouldn’t I have known about it? Nadia would’ve asked for my help, for sure.
Before I could think twice about it, Brady walked out of the store and headed right for us. At that very moment a text came through from Lori-Lou, asking if I wanted to go to the pediatrician’s office with her on Thursday. Who had time for that? Didn’t she know I had work to do?
I responded to Lori-Lou’s text with “Let’s talk later” and then noticed Nadia pulling into the parking spot beside me. She climbed out of her car, looking as glorious as usual in a lightweight suit and perfectly coiffed hair. Really? Who looked like that on a random Tuesday morning? If I worked all day, I couldn’t look as put together as my future mother-in-law.
Brady approached my car just as his mother got out of hers.
Alva shoved her phone into her oversized purse. “Sorry, y’all, but I’ve got to go to the little girls’ room. You folks take your time. Don’t rush on my account.”
“Okay. See you in a bit.”
I turned to Nadia, giving her a wave, and then focused on Brady. He pulled me into a warm embrace and planted a kiss on my cheek. “Good morning, you.”
“Well, good morning to you too. I can’t believe you’re here. Don’t you have physical therapy or something?”
“They rescheduled for later in the afternoon, so I decided to swing by. That all right?”
“Of course.” I glanced at his dress shirt and slacks and gave a little whistle. “This is twice now I’ve seen you dolled up. What’s the occasion?”
“Oh, I have an event later today. I’ll tell you all about it when we get inside.”
“That’s my boy,” Nadia said. “Lookin’ like a champ.” This somehow led to a conversation about men’s fashion, which—as always—led back to a lengthy discussion about wedding trends. Brady listened politely, but I had a feeling he wanted to bolt.
After a few minutes the front door of the shop opened and Madge stepped outside. She glanced our way and waved, then walked toward us. “Having a party out here?” she asked when she got within hearing range.
“Oh, just girl talk,” Nadia said. Brady cleared his throat. “Okay, okay, just a talk with two of the people I love most in the world. Have I mentioned how blessed I feel?”
“You are blessed, my friend.” Madge gave her a warm hug. “You’ve got the best son in town, the best incoming daughter-in-law, and the best business to boot. What more could a mama ask for?”
What indeed?
“Cosmopolitan Bridal is my home,” Nadia said. “My baby. I guess that’s what we empty nesters do—we fall in love with our work.”
“If I had half your talent, I’d be in love with dress design too.” I sighed. “Even without the talent, I love this place. I have ever since the first time I laid eyes on it.”
“I’m so happy you’ve fallen for the bridal shop like I have.” Nadia’s eyes filled with tears. “It’s hard to explain the effect it has on me, but I fall in love with dress design all over again every time I walk through the front door.”
“I still remember the very first time I walked through the doors of Cosmopolitan Bridal.” As I spoke the words, I thought back on that amazing day. “I came to tell you that I couldn’t possibly take the gown I’d won in the contest. But when I got here, I was so distracted—in a good way—by the shop, by the people who worked here . . .”
“And by my shocking good looks,” Brady chimed in.
“Well, yes, that too.” I giggled. “But honestly, I was so enamored with everything and everyone that I couldn’t seem to think straight. This place has a magical effect on people, I think. It’s not just a bridal shop, it’s a . . . a . . .” I paused to choose my next words. “It’s like entering a fairy-tale kingdom, one where dreams really do come true.”
“Goodness. When you describe it like that, you almost make it sound like a trip to Disney World.” Nadia looked rather pleased at this notion.
“Better! A kingdom for brides, where every wish can be fulfilled. Where a roomful of designers and seamstresses will whip up a gown fit for a princess and her prince.”
“I should hire you to do PR for the shop.” Nadia gave me a wink. “I know, I know—that’s already your job. But seriously, Katie, you’re great at describing things. I think that’s why I chose your essay to win the contest in the first place.”
“Thank you. I just love writing about Cosmopolitan. I love describing it to brides. It’s an ocean of white when you walk in the door. And the fabrics are so delicate, so pristine, that you’re scared to touch them—and yet, you’re so tempted to reach out and touch them because the shimmer and shine draw you in, like some sort of fairy-tale magnet. And don’t even get me started on the beadwork. Sometimes I stare at the different beads and crystals, just trying to figure out how many hours it must’ve taken to hand-stitch them into place. I would never have the patience, but man, they’re my favorite part. I could fill a whole room with them.”
“That might be a bit much.” Brady quirked a brow.
Nadia laughed. “Well, you’re very dramatic in style, I must admit. But I’ve loved that since the first day, especially the parts about your life in Fairfield—the way you talked about growing up in such a quaint, lovely place. Being a cheerleader. Being voted Ms. Peach whatever.”
“Peach Queen.” I squared my shoulders. “Quite the honor, if I do say so myself.”
“Well, your essay was so well written I felt as if I’d up and moved to Fairfield myself. That’s a real gift, to be able to use words to paint a picture for people.”
I shrugged. “Never really thought about it.”
“You should. Maybe you could write other things. Besides ads, I mean. Like . . . books. No, articles. You should write articles.”
“I already do write articles about the shop for the local papers, you know. That reminds me, I’ve got another piece ready for the Observer.”
“Awesome, but I meant more than that. Something bigger. What do you want to tell people, Katie?” She gave me an inquisitive look.
“I want to tell them that the bride needs encouragement, but she doesn’t want to be plowed over. Every bride should get to have her own special day. It’s hers, no one else’s. Not to be selfish or anything, but no one really needs to tug her in one direction or the other. In the end, they’re not going to be the ones with the special memories—she is. You know?”
“Every bride has her day. I like it.” Nadia shifted her purse strap to her other shoulder. “What would you do with that? Maybe a column or something? Newspaper?”
“No.” Brady snapped his fingers. “Texas Bride magazine, that’s what. I say we talk to Jordan Singer about getting you on at Texas Bride for a regular column from the point of view of the bride. You’d be perfect for that, Katie.”
“Whoa, whoa. How did we jump from me writing PR stuff for the shop to writing for a statewide magazine? I never said I wanted that.”
“Admit it, you’d love every second. You’re so good at what you do, writing ads for the shop and doing articles for the local papers. But there’s more in you, Katie. Much more. Texas Bride would be a great platform for you. You know brides better than almost anyone. You see them every day, and now you’re going to be one.”
I paused to think through his words. I did see a lot of brides. I listened too—to people like Bridget Pennington, who just wanted her big day to be the best it could possibly be. To a recent bride from San Antonio, who’d dealt with her crazy future in-laws. To Crystal, who defied the odds by pulling off a Gone with the Wind ceremony that no one would ever forget.
“When the bride has her day, she comes away content. It’s simple, really, and you know what they say: ‘Happy wife, happy life.’”
“Oh, is that what they say?” Brady slipped his arm around my waist. “Well then, I shall commit that to memory.”
“I’ll embroider it on a sampler for you so you don’t forget.” Madge gave him a playful wink. “Kidding, kidding. But I think you’re right, Katie. Think about the opposite—the bride whose dream wedding is stolen out from under her. We’ve seen plenty of those. They come away with so many regrets.”
“Yep. Someone needs to give each bride courage to go for it. To dream big. There’s a reason it’s called a ‘dream wedding,’ after all. No one can take it from her. It’s not theirs to take. It’s hers. It’s a day she’s dreamed of since she was a little girl. She’s planned for it for a lifetime. Her ideas matter. Her thoughts count.” I found myself overcome with emotion at this point. And if I had my way, we’d get out of this heat and go inside to chat about the joys of being a bride.
“Every bride has her day.” Brady nodded. “Sounds like a great title for an article. I’m contacting the magazine myself. And while I’m at it, why don’t I ask Jordan if he wants to be our wedding photographer? He was there for the cover shoot. He was there for the proposal. Maybe he’ll want to be there for the big day. You never know . . . we might just end up on the cover again.”
“How funny would that be—contest-winning bride and basketball-playing groom ride off into the sunset at their quaint outdoor reception.”
“Sounds good to me. Very good.” Brady nodded. “I’m definitely calling him, if you’re okay with it.”
“Very okay with it.” I thought back to all of the years I’d spent dreaming of my wedding. The scrapbook I’d put together. The magazines I’d pored through. The venues I’d checked out online. All of this to ensure I’d have the best wedding day ever. And now we finally had a plan in place for the perfect day. I could hardly wait!
Brady glanced down at his phone.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Yeah. Just a, um . . . a . . .” I lost him as he typed something into his phone. “Sorry, what were you asking?”
“You just seem a little preoccupied. Please tell me you’re not contacting Jordan already. And let’s go inside out of this heat.”
“Yep.” Brady shoved his phone in his pocket.
A couple of seconds later, Dahlia popped her head out the front door. “What’s up, people? You going to stay in the parking lot all day? We have a business to run.”
“She has a point.” I laughed and moved toward the door.
Brady slipped his arm through mine and appeared to be slowing me down on purpose. “So, you believe that every bride should have her day, right?”
“Yes.”
“No matter which day of the week . . . or where.”
“Right.” I gave him a curious look. “What are you trying to get at?”
“If, say, someone you knew and loved decided to have her day in a random place at a random time, surrounded by the people she loved, you would agree that everyone else should be happy about it, even if the whole thing catches you completely off guard?”
“Of course.” I gave him a suspicious look. “Why, Brady? What aren’t you telling me? Are you still hung up on that ‘let’s elope in Hawaii’ idea?”
“Over my dead body.” Nadia touched up her lipstick.
“Okay, well, who are we talking about here?”
“Just remember your passionate speech a couple of minutes from now, okay?” he said.
“O-okay.”
Brady opened the front door of the shop, and I gasped as I took in the interior. “Oh. My. Goodness.” The racks of gowns had been separated, creating a wide aisle between them. I stared at several rows of chairs covered in gorgeous white satin covers, all facing the same direction. Seated in those chairs . . .
Whoa.
Mama. Pop. Queenie. Pap-Paul. My brothers. Their sweeties. And half the town of Fairfield, along with all of our local friends and relatives.
“What in the world is going on?” My pulse quickened. For a moment I thought Brady had done the unthinkable.
He squeezed my hand and leaned over to whisper in my ear, “Don’t worry, it’s not for us.”
My heart slowed at once. Who, then?
“I believe your services are required in the changing room, Katie.” He patted my shoulder.
“My services?”
“Yes, if you’re going to serve as maid of honor, you’ll want to look your best. Mama has the perfect dress for you, in a lovely shade of lavender.”
“Lavender? I only know one person who likes lav—” I stopped mid-sentence and clamped a hand over my mouth. “Oh! No wonder she jumped and ran from the car! Are you telling me this was all planned ahead of time?”
“Well, for about a week, anyway. Eduardo was ready a few days after he proposed. I had to talk him into slowing down long enough to give the rest of us time to catch up.”
Mama walked my way and wrapped me in a warm embrace. “Hello again, Katie Sue. Long time no see.”
“I thought you guys were in Eureka Springs.”
“Yep. Then we moved on to Hot Springs. But it seems like no matter how far we roam, we keep ending up back home again. I believe it must be some sort of sign.”
“Sign, my eye.” My father joined us, a look of exasperation on his face. “If everyone would stop getting married, I could enjoy my retirement.”
“Well, wasn’t that a thoughtful thing to say.” Mama patted him on the arm. “That’s why I married you, honey—your kindness and consideration for others.”
He grumbled all the way back to his seat.
Mama glanced at me and laughed. “I thought your father was going to murder me in my sleep when I told him we had to drive back home, but I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
“Neither would I.” Queenie’s voice sounded from her chair. “So let’s get this show on the road.”
“For pity’s sake, yes.” Lori-Lou wrangled her children while Josh held the baby. “Not sure how long I can keep this crew under control.”
“But didn’t you just text me?” I asked.
“Duh. I was trying to buy time for Aunt Alva so she could change. She wanted to surprise you.”
“But . . . I’m the maid of honor?”
“And I’m the matron.” Queenie pointed at her lavender gown. “Now, you get in that studio, honey, and put on your dress. We’re not getting any younger, you know.”
No, we certainly weren’t. But if I didn’t get my act together, Alva and Eduardo wouldn’t have their big day. I gave my grandmother a nod and followed on her heels to the studio.