Every Bride Has Her Day Page 9

  Brady groaned. “Did you have to remind me?”

  “Right?” Bridget laughed. “Well, I’ve followed your career, so I knew all about . . .” Her gaze drifted down to his knee. “Anyway, I’m sorry about your injury. But it didn’t take me long to put two and two together and figure out you were working here with your mom.”

  Brady slipped his arm over my shoulders. “Well, since you brought up the magazine cover, I’d like you to meet the cover model, right here in the flesh. Bridget Pennington, meet Katie Fisher!”

  I rubbed at my eyes once again and bit back another yawn. My face grew hot. Though I had appeared on the cover of Texas Bride magazine wearing the gorgeous Loretta Lynn gown, no one had ever called me a cover model before. I wasn’t sure I liked the description.

  “Wait . . . Katie? You’re the girl in that magnificent dress?” Bridget let out a squeal and grabbed my hand. “Well, congratulations on winning the contest!” She paused and little creases formed between her eyes. “Sorry, just trying to figure out the timing of all of this. If you just had a new baby, then when . . . how . . . ?” The beautiful young woman shrugged. “Sorry, not trying to get into your business. I guess that photo shoot must’ve taken place quite a while before the baby was born?”

  “New baby?” Brady scratched his head. “I’m completely lost.”

  I cleared my throat and tried to figure out how to proceed. “Okay, I’ll get to the baby part in a minute, but let me start by saying that we weren’t engaged when I won the dress.”

  “But we remedied that in a hurry.” Brady took hold of my left hand and lifted it to show off my diamond ring.

  “So, you got the dress first and the ring after? And when did the baby come?” She grimaced. “Sorry! I guess I’m getting too personal, but inquiring minds want to know.”

  “Yes, inquiring minds want to know.” Twiggy crossed her arms at her chest and gave me a “How are you going to get yourself out of this one?” look.

  “I’m really confused.” Brady raked his hands through his hair.

  “We’re talking about baby Izzy,” I explained.

  “I’d love to see pictures, if you have any.” Bridget clasped her hands together. “I just love baby pictures.”

  “I don’t have any handy,” I said.

  “I do. I have some on my phone.” Brady pulled it out of his pocket. “She’s cute as a button. Wait till you see her expressions. Never seen anything like it. Then again, I haven’t been around babies before this one, so I’m on a definite learning curve.” He flipped through photo after photo.

  “Ooh, she’s a doll!” Bridget looked at one picture after another. “Congratulations, you two! So excited for you. I had no idea, Brady. I can’t believe I haven’t read this in the papers or online. Usually the paparazzi won’t let you get away with anything, especially something this big. How old is she?”

  “I’m so confused.” Brady looked my way, eyes widening. “I’m a father?”

  Twiggy snorted and erupted in laughter.

  “I’m sure it must seem like a dream.” Bridget patted him on the back. “Probably every new dad asks himself that same thing. You’ll get used to the idea, as soon as you’ve had some sleep, I mean. I’ve heard a lot about how tough the first few weeks can be.”

  Brady gave me another look. Oh boy.

  Bridget turned her attention to me. “Where is your big day taking place, Katie?”

  “We’re still trying to figure all of that out.” I lowered my voice in case Nadia happened to be nearby. “But it will be late summer. That’s as far as we’ve gotten. You know what they say: ‘The devil’s in the details.’”

  “Tell me about it.” Her cheerful expression faded in a hurry.

  “Well, speaking of weddings, didn’t you drive all the way up from Houston to try on gowns?” Madge, ever the businesswoman, jumped back into salesperson gear.

  “Yes, that’s right.” The edges of Bridget’s lips curled up in a smile. “When I called, Katie set up an appointment for me with Nadia. But I daresay I already know which gown I’m going to choose. I saw it in a magazine just a couple of weeks back.”

  “Nadia’s in the studio. I’ll go get her.” I hurried down the hall, half relieved to get away from the dark-haired beauty and half frustrated as I recalled how Brady’s eyes had sparkled when he recognized her. Oh, if only I could go back and start this day all over again!

  9

  Chances Are

  As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands, one for helping yourself, the other for helping others.

  Audrey Hepburn

  Brady followed on my heels. He tapped me on the shoulder just as I reached the studio. I turned to face him and saw the expression of shock and disbelief on his face. “What. Just. Happened. Back. There?”

  I did my best not to groan. “A total misunderstanding, that’s all. She saw me yawning and probably noticed my hair and makeup are a little messy, and—”

  “A little?”

  “Anyway, Madge said something about how no one has slept since the baby was born, and Bridget just took the ball and ran with it. I tried to explain but got cut off every time.”

  “I see. So, the baby is yours, and I’m the father, and we’re just now planning our wedding after the birth of our child?”

  “Something like that. And I don’t know how to unravel this mess, at least not until I’ve had more sleep.” I wanted to go back in my office, put my head on my desk, and doze off.

  On the other hand, maybe I was sleeping now. Yes, this was all surely a crummy dream. I’d wake up soon and laugh about it. Only, first I had to rally the troops and then get back out to the bride-to-be. Through my stupor, I managed to do all of that.

  Minutes later Nadia joined us. She took one look at Bridget and extended her arms. “I remember this little girl. The tomboy’s all grown up!”

  “She is, indeed.” Bridget did a little twirl to show off her fully grown self.

  “Is your mama coming in to watch you try on gowns?” Nadia looked toward the door as if expecting the woman to materialize. “We were such great friends back in the day.”

  Our bride-to-be’s joy seemed to dampen right away, and she shook her head. “My mama passed away when I was ten.” A pause followed before she added, “Colon cancer.”

  Nadia placed her hand on Bridget’s arm. “I’m so sorry, honey. Truly. Your mother was always a lovely woman. Such a kind neighbor and friend. I’m very sorry to hear that she’s passed away. That must’ve been so hard on you.”

  “Yes.” An awkward silence rose. When Bridget finally spoke, the sadness in her voice was undeniable. “My father has done a fine job of raising me, but I’ll be honest—he doesn’t really understand girl things. Like this wedding, for instance.” She released an exaggerated sigh. “Let’s just say we don’t always agree.”

  “Well, at least you can choose your own gown,” Nadia said. “He’s not here to give input, right?”

  “Well, it’s a little more complicated than that. He’s already chosen a gown that he loves from your website.”

  “Which one?” Fine lines formed between Nadia’s carefully made-up eyes.

  “The Audrey Hepburn.”

  “Ooh, a lovely choice!” Twiggy looked delighted by this. “It’s one of my favorite designs.”

  “Mine too,” Nadia said. “But I sense you have something different in mind, Bridget?”

  Bridget’s nose wrinkled, and for the first time I noticed a light spattering of freckles there. “See, here’s the thing: Daddy has his heart set on a high-end wedding. For me, I mean. Ceremony at our church, which is large and very ornate. Reception—if he gets his way—at the River Oaks Country Club, the most exclusive upper-crust facility in town with a long, rich history of catering to those who strive to impress.”

  Madge let out a whistle. “Sounds like quite a place.”

  “Oh, it is.” Bridget sighed. “It’s great. Perfect, in fact.”

  “You’re he
sitating?” Twiggy looked perplexed. “Because that all sounds lovely to me.”

  “Well, yes, I’m sure some people would be thrilled. Daddy’s business associates, for instance. But the tomboy in me wants to go a different route. My fiancé’s family has property in Magnolia, outside of Houston. Beautiful property. There’s a gorgeous pond, a large barn . . . very rustic.”

  “O-okay?” Nadia seemed confused by the direction of the conversation.

  “You want to get married outdoors, don’t you?” I put my hands on my hips, suddenly ready to befriend this poor harassed bride. I understood her plight. Fully. “You want a country chic wedding.”

  “Yeah.” She gave me a sheepish look. “Is that weird? I mean, to trade in the most exclusive place in town for a wedding in a field with a reception to follow in a barn? But I think it would be amazing. An evening wedding next to the lake. Guests seated on bales of hay covered in pretty pieces of fabric. A grape arbor to say our ‘I dos’ under.” Her eyes took on a faraway look as she shared her vision for the perfect day.

  “Gosh, when you describe it like that, it even sounds good to me.” Madge shrugged. “And I’m not the outdoorsy type at all.”

  “Neither is my dad.” Bridget leaned against a mannequin, nearly knocking it down. “And therein lies the problem. My fiancé, Evan, loves the idea. And his parents are more than happy to work on the barn to get it ready for the reception. Evan’s dad is a rancher and a wonderful carpenter. He does the most amazing woodwork. I can picture it now.”

  “But your dad can’t?” Twiggy asked. “Is that it?”

  “I haven’t told him yet. He’ll flip. I know he will. He wants the best for me.”

  “Sounds like this is what you want, so isn’t that the best for you?” Nadia asked. “I think this would be simple enough. Just tell him what you want. Don’t let him boss you around.”

  Sure. Easy for my future mother-in-law who wanted me to get married at the Gaylord to say.

  Bridget sighed. “Anyway, we should probably drop it. I know it’s never going to happen. If Daddy ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.”

  “Well, that’s a crying shame.” Madge clucked her tongue. “And it flies in the face of what I believe. We always say, ‘If the bride ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.’”

  “Right.” Bridget released a slow breath. “But I guess it’s all silly. Getting married outdoors . . . who does that? I mean, who does it out in a field with a lake and bales of hay? I’m not a rancher’s daughter, I’m a businessman’s daughter. It’s probably a dumb idea.”

  Before speaking a word in response to all of this, I thought about my own situation. I’d been so busy trying to make everyone else happy—Nadia, Mama, the girls at the bridal shop—that I hadn’t really spent a lot of time thinking about my own happiness. When would someone ask, “What do you want, Katie?”

  “It’s your day.” I spoke the words with fervor, probably as much for my own benefit as hers. “And you should do what feels right to you and your fiancé, no one else. I say you have the best country chic wedding ever, and make no apologies for it.”

  All of my co-workers nodded in agreement. Even Nadia, though she did give me a sideways glance.

  Bridget didn’t look convinced. “That’s easier said than done, sadly.”

  “Well, start with the dress,” I suggested. “Choose something that will work for a country chic wedding.” I pointed to the Audrey Hepburn gown on a nearby mannequin. “I mean, it’s gorgeous—”

  “And it would be great for the country club set,” Madge chimed in.

  “But out in a field?” Nadia shook her head. “Never. Never ever.”

  “I’m not saying you shouldn’t try it on,” I clarified. “Just saying you should keep your options open. Find another dress that has the look and feel of a country wedding. Try it on for size and feel. Picture yourself standing in the field wearing that dress.”

  And that’s exactly what Bridget Pennington did. She tried on the Audrey Hepburn, then the Grace Kelly, then the Loretta Lynn, which she loved. She tried on dresses in ivory, white, and oyster—some flashy, others simple. Some with sweetheart necklines, others off-the-shoulder. Some with lace appliques, others with organza. Still, nothing felt just right, to her or to those of us helping.

  At the end of the session, she and Nadia agreed to meet at a future date to design something perfect for the occasion. After she and her fiancé solidified their plans. I thanked my lucky stars that she hadn’t congratulated Nadia on being a new grandmother. How would I have explained that one?

  After Bridget left, I went back to my office and sent several emails. Brady headed off to a meeting with his agent just about the time I finished, so I drove back home, deep in thought. At the last minute I decided to stop by Lori-Lou’s place, just to check in.

  I found her in a puddle in the kitchen—not a literal puddle, like one caused from dirty dishwater, though I found plenty of that in the sink. This puddle was more the emotional kind. Seated at the breakfast table with the sleeping baby in her arms, she poured out her heart about her tough day. She lost me about halfway into a story about Gilly having a meltdown just before bedtime.

  I got up and walked to the sink, where I began the lengthy process of loading the dishes into the dishwasher. Lori-Lou didn’t even seem to notice. I did my best to listen to her woes, but my exhaustion made it difficult to focus. She finally drew me in with several tears choking her voice and a final lamentation: “Being a mother is so hard!” She put the sleeping baby in the little bassinet nearby and leaned over as if in agony. She wept aloud, rocking back and forth. When she finally dried her eyes, pain still flickered there.

  Now what? I needed to say something—do something—but my mind went blank.

  In that moment, in a stroke of brilliance, I decided to share what had happened to me at the bridal shop. Lori-Lou would get such a big kick out of the story, no doubt. I told her all about Bridget Pennington and how she’d misunderstood about the baby. How she’d thought I was the mother of a newborn. About how Brady and I never had the chance to clarify or to tell her the real story.

  At the end of my exaggerated tale, Lori-Lou’s brow wrinkled. “So, let me get this straight,” she said. “That bride-to-be from Houston thinks you’re the . . . Mother. Of. My. Baby?” She began to cry all over again. “That you’re Izzy’s mama?”

  “Yes.” I put another dish into the dishwasher and turned to face her. “Don’t even get me started on how she came to that conclusion, but that’s the long and short of it. She thinks Brady and I have a daughter. Together.”

  “Really?” My cousin stormed into the living room, leaving me high and dry in the kitchen. I wiped off my hands and followed her, concerned by her actions. She reached down to pick up a toy from the floor, her eyes welling with tears. “Really?”

  “Of course, I tried to tell her the real story, but one thing led to another, and before I could get a word in edgewise—”

  “You’d be a better mother than me.” Lori-Lou choked the words out. “It’s true. You would.”

  “W-what?”

  She tossed a stuffed rabbit across the room toward the toy box, but it missed by a good three feet. “See what I mean? I stink at this.”

  “So you didn’t hit the toy box. Who cares?”

  “No, Katie.” She turned in slow motion to face me head-on, a look of total anguish in her eyes. “I. Stink. At. Parenting.”

  “What? Are you kidding me? You—”

  “I’ve lost control. I try . . . I really try . . . but no one listens to me. I tell the older kids to be quiet so the baby can sleep. Are they quiet? No, they’re not. I sing to the baby to get her to calm down, but does she calm down? No, she doesn’t. I tell Josh that I’m on the verge of a breakdown, and does he buy me double chocolate chunk ice cream like I ask for? No! He buys me mint chocolate chip. I. Can’t. Stand. Mint. Chocolate. Chip.”

  “Hey, they were out of double chocolate chunk.” Josh’s voice sound
ed from the doorway. “And just so you know, I tried again at the grocery store on Hollister and they don’t have it either. It’s not my fault, Lori-Lou. I’m doing the best I can.”

  “So am I.” My cousin sobbed as she plopped down onto the sofa, which was still covered in unfolded laundry. “And it’s not good enough.”

  Josh made his way through the pile of toys on the floor to the sofa, where he nudged the laundry aside and took a seat next to his wife. “Baby, it’s okay.”

  “Don’t say baby. Please don’t ever say baby again!” She dissolved into a pool of tears and then ran from the room, all the way to her bedroom.

  I put my hand over my mouth, horrified that I’d upset her so badly. After a few seconds I pulled my hand down and stared at Josh. “I. Am. So. Sorry!”

  “What got her so stirred up?”

  “It’s my fault. I was telling her a funny story about how one of the customers at the store thought I was the one who just had a baby, and the next thing you know, Lori-Lou—”

  “Has a meltdown.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Just like the one she had right before I left the house, and just like the one she had this afternoon when I told her that her parents had to leave to go back to Arkansas.”

  “I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s scary.”

  “We saw glimpses after Joshie was born. Man, I sure hope this season passes quickly. She had the postpartum thing with the others, but nothing like this. I’m worried enough that I’ve called her doctor.”

  “What did she say?”

  “To give it time, but to keep a close eye on her. I just walk on eggshells all the time. I never know when something will set her off. That’s why I’m so grateful you and Alva have been coming by so often. Thank you for that.”