Every Bride Needs a Groom (23 page)

“Yep. Twiggy was busy with a customer and they needed the help. He stepped right up.”

“Whoa. I think we're witnessing a real live miracle, folks.”

Brady and I talked about the changes in my brothers all the way back to the bridal shop while we nibbled on some of
my aunt's oatmeal cookies. I also opened up and spilled the whole story of Alva and Queenie. Why I felt so comfortable talking to Brady James, I could not say. But he had great insight, particularly when it came to my grandmother and aunt.

“Time has passed, Katie,” he said. “And hearts change. Some grow harder. Some soften. But God can still mend relationships, even after all this time.”

“Would you pray about that? I'd love to invite Alva to Queenie's birthday party.”

“When is it?”

“Two weeks from Friday. In Fairfield.”

“I'll pray, I promise.” He gave me a thoughtful smile. “The way you talk about Fairfield makes it sound so great. One of these days I'll have to go there myself. Meet Queenie in person.”

“I'd like that.” I found myself smiling as the words came out. “A lot.”

I snuck a peek at him out of the corner of my eye. He gave me a little wink and my heart did that fluttering thing again. Gracious. If this kept up, I'd have to go find a cardiologist.

Right in the middle of my heart palpitations, Brady switched gears, talking about the one thing I'd avoided all morning: his call to his mother.

“I think she was surprised,” Brady said. “But I explained the whole thing and told her that Madge didn't want you to say anything.”

“We can totally cancel the dress order, Brady. I don't mind.”

“No, it would break her heart. She loves that design. And she still wants to go through with the photo shoot. She's just trying to come up with a new angle for Jordan's article. She said something about calling you the Someday Bride.”

“The Someday Bride?”

“Yes, the bride who's been dreaming of her big day all her life. The one who plans everything in advance.”

“That would be me.”

“Yep. You and thousands of other women. She thinks it'll make the article more interesting that the girl who won the dress doesn't have a fixed date. Or a fixed groom.”

“Or a fixed
anything
.” I sighed.

“Oh, I don't know about that. I think you've got a fixed attitude. You're a hopeless romantic.” His convincing smile won me over.

“Well, true. And I guess there are a lot of other hopeless romantics out there,” I said.

“Yep. And they're not all women either.” A playful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Gracious. Was this sweet guy flirting with me, or what?

Before long we were engrossed in a lengthy conversation about the photo shoot.

“Because Mom can't come back for the shoot, she wants me to go along and represent the bridal shop,” Brady said. “You okay with that?”

“Of course. Sounds like fun.”

“Dahlia will come too. She'll take care of the dress and make sure it looks great. And I'm sure Madge will be there. We'll make a party out of it.”

“Dahlia?” My thoughts reeled backwards in time to the conversation I'd overheard in the fitting room, the one where Twiggy said she felt sorry for the poor, pathetic brides who didn't yet have a groom. “Do . . . do Dahlia and the others know? About my situation, I mean?”

“They do.” He gave me a tender look. “But you won't be hearing a word about it. Mom made a point of telling them to handle it like the pros they are.”

“Do you think it changes their opinion about me?”

“Not a bit. Now stop fretting, okay?” He started talking about the various photo op places we'd seen at the stockyard. That conversation somehow shifted to goats, then to horses. This provided the perfect segue to talk about my life back in Fairfield, which I did with abandon. Brady seemed to hang on my every word, genuinely interested in what I had to say.

When we arrived back at the bridal shop, I found Dewey and Dahlia in the parking lot working on my car. Now, I'd seen Dahlia at work behind the sewing machine. I'd watched her pin and tuck hems. But I'd never seen her under the hood before. With my brother speaking so enthusiastically about all things mechanical, the girl practically swooned. Go figure.

We joined them, but only for a moment. I could tell from my brother's crooked smile that he wanted to be left alone with the Swedish beauty. Okay then. I'd give him some space, especially if it meant he would fix my car.

“See now why I left it in his capable hands?” Brady said as we walked toward the store. “I think he's trying to impress Dahlia.”

“No joke. Well, if he keeps on impressing her, I might just get an oil change and tire rotation out of it, so don't bother him.”

Brady laughed and opened the door to the shop. True to his word, Beau was behind the counter, working the cash register. He punched a few keys and then spoke to the young woman standing on the other side of the counter. “That will be $695.14, ma'am.” His Texas drawl sounded even thicker today.

“My goodness, with such a handsome fella waiting on me, I'll happily spend that much and more.” The girl smiled. “Thanks for the recommendation about the shoes to go with my bridesmaid dress. I think they're a perfect match.”

“Yer welcome, ma'am.” He took her credit card and rang up the transaction, then closed the drawer and handed her a receipt. “Have a great day.”

“Oh, I have already.” She winked.

This didn't appear to go over well with Twiggy, who approached at just that moment. She glared at the young woman and showed her to the door. Wow. Looked like things were really stirring at the bridal shop today.

Beau looked my way and his cheeks flushed. “Well, hey, Katie. Didn't see you come in.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I, um, well, I'm helping out.”

“So I see.”

“He's had a hankerin' to work in a bridal shop for years.” Jasper's voice sounded from behind me. “I guess it's been a secret desire none of us knew about.”

Beau gave him a warning look. Just as quickly, his expression softened. I noticed his gaze shifting to Twiggy, who greeted an incoming customer at the door. “I have secret desires, all right.” He sighed and took a few steps toward us, away from the counter. His next words came out sounding a bit strained. “Houston, we have a problem.”

“What's the problem, little brother?” Jasper elbowed him in the ribs. “Can't choose between the satin and crepe for your gown?”

“It's Mama.”

“Mama's never been a problem for you, little brother,” I said. “She thinks you hung the moon. You're her baby.”

“Mama's
always
been a problem for him,” Jasper argued. “He just never saw it till now. The apron strings are choking the life out of him.”

“I'm not really saying Mama's the problem,” Beau said. “I
guess I'm the problem because I've let her pretty much rule my life. I'm just saying there's going to be a problem with Mama when she finds out that, well . . .”

“You've fallen and you can't get up?” Jasper gave him a look.

He nodded. “Yeah.” A broad smile lit his boyish face. “And I don't wanna, either. Get up, I mean.” Another lingering gaze at Twiggy followed. From across the room she turned away from the customer and gave him a little nod.

Jasper whacked Beau on the back. “Don't you worry about Mama. She wants her boy to be happy. She always has. It'll be hard to hear that you've developed an interest in a girl, but she'll get over it.”

“She wants me happy, sure, but she also wants me close to home. Now that I . . .” He scratched his head. “I'm just confused.”

“When she meets Twiggy, she'll love her.” Something occurred to me in that moment. “Hey, I have an idea.” I snapped my fingers. “You guys should invite the girls to Queenie's birthday party. Seriously. It's two weeks from Friday, at Sam's. That's the perfect opportunity to introduce them in a friendly setting. Everyone will be in a celebratory mood.”

“Take Twiggy to Fairfield?” Beau looked more than a little concerned.

“I'm trying to picture Crystal hanging out at Dairy Queen.” Jasper shook his head. “Nope. Just ain't happening.”

“Well, how do you know unless you take them there? At the very least, you can introduce them to Mama and Pop. It's the right thing to do.”

“Kind of like you introduced them to Brady?” Jasper gave me a knowing look. “Like that? I mean, you two are an item, right? I'm not blind.”

“We're not an item, Jasper, and you're completely chang
ing the subject.” I swallowed. Hard. “Anyway, I think it's a good idea.”

“For you to introduce Brady to the folks?”

“No, for you guys to introduce the girls to the folks.”

He shrugged and we ended the conversation, but I couldn't stop thinking about what he'd said. Sooner or later we would all have to cross the great divide between Fairfield and Dallas. Between now and then, however, I'd have to figure out a way to invite Alva to go with me to Queenie's party. And I might—just might—work up the courage to invite a certain basketball player to join us too.

Hope is a gift we give ourselves, and it remains when all else is gone.

Naomi Judd

J
ust two days before Queenie's birthday party, I tried on my finished dress in preparation for the photo shoot. I could hardly believe how wonderful I felt with it on. Dahlia got so excited that she decided to Skype the whole event with Nadia.

“Turn around, Katie.” Nadia's voice sounded from the speaker on Dahlia's laptop.

I complied, showing off the mid-length train on the back of the dress.

“Great job, Dahlia.” Nadia sounded impressed, but she didn't gush. Maybe it wasn't in her nature to gush. “It's going
to be perfect for the photo shoot. Now, Katie, I don't want to tell you how to pose for the photos, but do your best to show off the dress if you can, okay?”

“I will.”

“Since we're billing you as the Someday Bride, I thought it would be nice to give you a stand-in groom. You okay with Brady playing that role? I think his basketball fans would eat it up, and it would certainly increase the sales for the magazine.”

“Brady?” I felt my cheeks grow hot.

“Sure.” Nadia's businesslike voice clipped along at a steady pace. “Ask him to put on a tuxedo and go along for the ride, okay? If the photographer asks for a groom, he'll be ready to go.”

“You don't think that'll confuse his fans?” I asked.

“We can explain that he's a good sport.” She grinned. “Get it? Good sport? It'll show that he's a team player, and that should make Stan happy.”

“I doubt it,” Madge called out. “That old coot's never happy.”

Nadia laughed. “True. But let's just play out this day like the fairy tale it is. And remember, Katie, you represent every someday bride. I ran the idea by Jordan Singer and he thought it was perfect. His readers will eat it up. You've spent your whole life dreaming of the perfect dress, the perfect wedding . . .”

“The perfect groom.” Madge elbowed me but I shushed her.

“Well, do your best not to get the dress too wrinkled on the ride over there, okay? Are you riding in Brady's truck?”

“Yes ma'am. My car would never make it.”

“You don't have to call me
ma'am
, Katie. Just Nadia will do.”

“Yes ma'am.” I put my hand over my mouth and giggled. “Sorry!”

“Dahlia, go ahead and bustle the gown now,” Nadia said. “When you all get to the stockyard, keep the dress bustled until
the last minute. God forbid you should drag that train in the mud or”—she shuddered—“anything else. There are animals everywhere, after all.” She paused, but before anyone could get a word in edgewise, she added another thought. “When you're ready for the first shot, unhook the bustle and let down the train, but be very careful.”

“Will do, Nadia,” Dahlia said. She went to work bustling the back of my gown, carrying on all the while about the embellishments on the bodice and the gorgeous ruffles on the skirt. “I daresay even Ms. Loretta Lynn herself would be happy to wear this dress.”

“We might just have to ask her that question,” Nadia said. “I'll ask Jordan to try to contact her.”

Wow. I could hardly believe it. Maybe Queenie's favorite singer would put her stamp of approval on my wedding dress. The one I wasn't getting married in . . . at least not anytime soon.

When we ended the Skype session with Nadia, Crystal and Twiggy went to work doing my hair and makeup in preparation for the event.

I noticed Crystal's silence while the other ladies gabbed. “Are you okay?” I asked.

“Hmm?” She shrugged. “I guess. Days like this are hard.”

“Why?”

She sighed. “I sometimes wonder if I'm ever going to get married. I guess I'm just one of those someday brides that Nadia talked about.”

“Aren't we all?” Dahlia asked.

“Count me in,” Twiggy said. “I'm a someday bride too.”

“Looks like we're all in the same boat,” I said.

Crystal took a seat on the bench. “By the time I'm engaged, I'll be an old woman.”

“Like me?” Madge's voice sounded from behind us.

“You're not old, Madge.” Dahlia walked over and gave Madge a kiss on the cheek. “You're forever young.”

“And you're still a someday bride too.” Crystal gave Madge a knowing look and then giggled.

“With hips like mine, I'll never fit into an A-line gown,” Madge said.

“When the time comes, you're going to be a beautiful bride, Madge,” Dahlia said. “I'll make your dress myself and you'll look like a million bucks.”

“Whatever. I was never meant to be a beauty queen. And the only thing polished about me is my wit. No one can argue that point.” Madge winked. “Truth is, I'm doing the best I can. All women my age are. And if we don't look the part—if our makeup isn't perfect, if our figure isn't the same as it was when we were teens—then the world will just have to go on spinning anyway. I have it on good authority that we all age. Our bodies change. Don't believe me? Look at Robert Redford.”

“True.” Crystal's nose wrinkled.

“And Jamie Lee Curtis. She's never been one to disguise her age.”

“I'm going to age like Dolly Parton,” Crystal said. “That woman is per-
pet
-ually thirty-nine.”

This led to an interesting discussion about country music, which led them back to talking about my gown. I swished and swayed, checking out the dress from every angle, and gave a blissful sigh. I caught a glimpse of Madge in the mirror, staring at me like a proud mama hen. I couldn't help but smile.

Several minutes later, Brady appeared at the fitting room door. I hardly recognized him in the sleek tuxedo, but he took my breath away. Literally. “Whoa.” I didn't mean to say the word aloud, but who could blame me?

“Wowza.” Madge whistled. “You clean up nice, boss.”

“You can say that twice and mean it.” I bit my lip to keep from saying anything that might embarrass either one of us. “You really do look great, Brady.”

“I look like a cake topper.” He checked his appearance in the mirror and groaned. “Don't I?”

That got me tickled. Before long I was laughing so hard the girls had to stop working on my makeup. I promised Crystal that I'd double-check my appearance before the shoot began and take care of any necessary touch-ups.

“Trust me, you're the prettiest bride to ever grace the cover of a magazine.” Brady gave me an admiring look. “You won't need to change a thing.”

“Aw,” all of the females said in unison.

“Thank you, Brady.” I gave him a smile and then tried to look as if his words hadn't affected me. The heat in my face gave me away, though.

Dahlia's eyes narrowed. “Boss, are you flirting?”

“Me? Flirting?” He cleared his throat.

“Well, it's time to get this show on the road.” Madge put her hand on Brady's back and nudged him out the door. “We've got a full day ahead of us. C'mon, folks.”

Brady extended his arm. “Are you ready, Katie?”

“As ready as I'll ever be.”

I held tight to his arm as we walked through the shop, so as not to get tangled up in the cumbersome ruffled skirt. Several people stopped me to comment on my gown. I felt like a princess wearing it.

Just before we reached the door, a young woman entered. Madge reached for her walkie-talkie and whispered, “Incoming Joie de Vivre.”

“Joie de Vivre?” I stopped in my tracks, intrigued by this one.

“Rediscovering life after a recent catastrophe,” Madge explained. She gestured to the woman, who stood off in the distance, examining a gown. “Her name is Penny Jones. And she's our most recent Joie de Vivre Bride.”

“I'm not sure I understand,” I said.

“Notice the smile on her face? It's as broad as the sun up above. But the mist of tears in her eyes? They tell a different story. This is a young woman whose first husband passed away in Afghanistan. She didn't think she would ever remarry. But then she met her current fiancé, and hope, once dead, sprang to life.”

“Joie de vivre. Hope springs to life.” I whispered the words, realizing how closely they matched my situation, then threw my arms around Madge's neck. “Madge, you're a remarkable woman. So intuitive.”

Brady let out a snort. “You mean nosy?”

“No, I mean intuitive.” My heart flooded with joy for her. “She sees things that the rest of us don't see. She even notices the little things.”

“In spite of all my flaws?” She quirked a brow.

“I see no flaws in you. In fact, you're the most beautiful woman here,” I said. “And I really mean that. Your heart makes it so.”

“I might have to argue that point.” She leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. “I would argue that you're the most beautiful. I haven't known you long, kid, but I can say in all honesty that they grow 'em sweeter in Fairfield.”

“And I might just have to agree.” Brady placed his hand on my back and smiled.

“Yep.” Madge nodded. “Now listen up, you two. Once we get to that photo shoot, I'm counting on you to knock 'em dead. Take the best possible pictures for
Texas Bride
and show the
world that Cosmopolitan Bridal is the best place on earth to buy a wedding gown.” She glanced at the Joie de Vivre Bride. “I've got a customer to take care of, but Dahlia and I will meet you there in a few minutes, after I make sure the other girls are okay to manage the store without us. Now scoot.”

Brady kept his hand on my back, gently guiding me out the door. In that moment, with the eyes of everyone in the store on the two of us, I felt like a bride. I felt lovely. It had nothing to do with the makeup or the hair, though those things certainly didn't hurt. No, what I felt came from a deeper place than that. Madge had touched a nerve with her joie de vivre comment. With those words, hope sprang to life. I would one day wear this dress for real. It would be more than just a pipe dream. In the meantime, Brady and I would play the role of cake toppers, giving the photographer all of the pictures he needed for the magazine, even if we had to playact to do it.