Mother of the Bride (14 page)

Dan. She loved him more than she had ever thought it was possible to love another human being. She loved his body and his mind and his heart and his soul. It was as if he was the missing piece of her that she had been lacking until she'd met him. Laughing, she slid on top of him and kissed and tickled him till he was begging for mercy. The two of them reached for each other at the same time, as need overwhelmed them.

Hours later she woke curled up against him, rain spattering against the window and balcony. She reached for her phone. Shit! It was two o'clock already. She couldn't believe it. They had slept for ages.

‘Dan!' she shook him awake.

He moaned against her, his arm snaking lazily around her waist.

‘Dan! Wake up!' She raised her voice, trying to get his attention. ‘Get up! We've so much to do. If we're lucky we'll make it to the stationers to look at the invitations, and I want to show you the wedding rings I saw in Weirs on Grafton Street.'

‘Can't we leave it today?' he protested. ‘I'm fed up looking at wedding stuff!'

‘No, we've got to get going!' she insisted, trying to push and shove him out of bed. ‘This wedding is about what we both want.'

‘Look, Amy, you just go and choose what you want. I'm sure it'll be fine with me,' he said, trying to appease her.

‘Dan, this is
our
wedding. You have to be involved!'

‘I am, I promise.' He laughed. ‘We've got a date booked, a church booked and a venue booked! What more do you want?'

‘Dan, there is more, a lot more!' she countered, thinking of all the things that had to be done to get them up that aisle and married. ‘A whole lot more.'

‘Why can't we just keep things simple? It's all getting to be such a fecking hassle!'

‘Daniel Quinn! Don't you dare call our wedding a hassle! I've been dreaming of my wedding since I was a little girl.'

Dan closed his eyes, wishing that somehow he could make it all go away. ‘I didn't mean it like that.' He tried to explain, realizing that no matter what he said he was on a losing streak. Disgruntled, he gave in and sat up and swung his long legs out from his side of the bed.

‘Hurry up,' shouted Amy, racing for the bathroom. ‘I want you to see the cream linen invitation. Then there is the classic white, and some lovely embossed ones, and a really unusual stencilled design. We have to work out the wording and how many we need to order so we must confirm our numbers.'

Dan groaned. The guest list was proving to be an absolute nightmare as they both tried to decide what friends to invite or not and how many relations they were having along.

‘If we rush we should make it to the jewellers, too, just to get an idea about our rings,' bossed Amy. ‘And tonight there is a great band playing in that bar down in the IFSC. They played at Tara's cousin's wedding and she said that they were brilliant. We should really go and watch them.'

‘I've arranged for us to meet up with Liam and the lads for a few drinks later,' Dan protested.

‘We'll do that later, but we'll go and have a drink or two on our own and listen to the band first.' She smiled, closing the bathroom door behind her.

Daniel stared at the floor. He normally loved Saturdays and Sundays, but ever since they had got engaged his favourite days had been swallowed up with organizing things for the wedding. Was it
any wonder so many people were happy to stay the way they were, and refused to make it official?

As Amy let the hot water flow over her skin and face, and rubbed shampoo into her hair and scalp, she mentally ran through her to-do list. It would be great if Dan and she got a few more things done this weekend. She would get some sample invitations to show her family. They had made a rough guest list. They tried not to add names to it, but the list was literally growing by the day! God only knows how many people they'd end up with. Carmel Quinn had been in a bit of a huff when they'd told her last week that she could only bring sixty people to the wedding at most. It was up to her to choose who she and Eddie wanted to invite!

She had seen some photos of bridesmaid dresses in one of the Irish bridal magazines and was itching to go shopping with Ciara and Jess. Then she had all the bouquets to sort out and of course she had to order the cake.

She had intended cooking a nice dinner for Dan later this evening, but instead they could grab a pizza in town before they went to listen to the band.

The water coursed over her, and Amy let the bubbles run down her shoulders and back. She shrugged, trying to ease the knot of tension in her neck, and wished that her thoughts weren't quite so crowded with things to do and lists and plans for the wedding.

‘Where are you off to?' Paddy asked, as he pored over Saturday's
Irish Times
, which he had spread out on the kitchen table.

‘I'm going looking for bridesmaid dresses with the girls,' explained Helen, who was already dressed and ready for today's big shopping expedition. Amy, organized as ever, had worked out quite an itinerary of places to go and emailed them to her, Jess and Ciara. ‘Amy's meeting us in town.'

‘It's a nightmare!' Fran had warned her. ‘There'll be blood and tears before the day is out! Katie and Lisa and the two other bridesmaids we had, Tina and Mary, were like lunatics . . . it was so embarrassing in the shops. I kept trying to pretend that I wasn't with them. Most of the stuff is awful – you wouldn't put it on a cat – so you can't blame them for not wanting to try it on.'

Helen hoped Fran was exaggerating. She thought it would be fun to go shopping for the bridesmaid dresses with her two daughters and Jess, who was generally very affable and easy-going. For the past few months she had pored over bridal magazines like
Wedding Day
,
Bride
,
Beautiful Brides
,
Your Wedding
and
The Irish Bride
. She loved reading them and studying various styles of weddings. It had become almost an obsession, and she enjoyed looking at the
photos and menus and reading about the different bridal dramas and problems.

She had showed photos of some dresses to Ciara, who had pretended not to look at them, and she had even caught Paddy glancing at the magazines, and been glad that he was showing some interest, despite his constant grousing about the wedding costs being way over budget.

‘Ciara, get up!' she shouted up to her younger daughter. ‘I told Amy and Jess we'd meet them in town in about half an hour.'

She immersed herself in the weekend magazine supplement as Ciara appeared in a long grey T-shirt and a pair of Simpsons' socks. Her black hair was in a tangle, her eyes still sleepy as she filled a bowl with yogurt and muesli.

‘I'm meant to be studying,' complained Ciara.

‘You can study tomorrow,' suggested Helen, worried as her younger daughter had been off-form over the past few weeks, and still looked washed-out.

‘I wish that I didn't have to go!' Ciara sighed heavily. ‘I don't want to be a crappy bridesmaid and wear a stupid dress.'

They had been over this umpteen times. ‘That is why Amy wants you and Jess to choose exactly what you'd like,' Helen said firmly, putting her mug in the dishwasher. ‘She's keen you'll both be happy with your dresses.'

Ciara yawned.

‘Ciara, I want you showered and ready to go in a few minutes,' Helen bossed, not brooking any more objections. ‘The wedding is only four months away and you need to get a dress.'

When they got into town, Amy and Jess were already in the Powerscourt Centre, busy looking at the huge range of bridesmaid dresses on display.

Helen took a deep breath; there were literally hundreds of styles. Where should they begin?

‘I think we should start with a style first, and then see about a colour,' suggested Amy, who was brimming over with enthusiasm.

‘I'm not wearing pink,' Ciara said stubbornly.

‘We'll see,' said Amy, ignoring her younger sister's objections.

‘We can go long, mid-length or shorter and just above the knee,' Helen said.

‘I haven't got great legs,' admitted Jess. ‘I'm not really a dress type of person.'

‘OK, then let's start with these.' Amy and a shop assistant picked out four floor-length dresses in various styles and colours, asking the two girls what size they were. Ciara was a standard size ten but Helen pitied poor Jess, who said she needed a sixteen, but ended up having to try on an eighteen. Amy sent the girls into the dressing rooms with the dresses.

‘I'm not coming out in this,' shouted Ciara. ‘It's awful.'

Peering in between the curtains, Amy and Helen had to agree the long mauve silk dress did nothing for her. It looked like a nightdress, swamping her skinny frame.

Jess looked marginally better, although the full length and material added pounds, and made her look even plumper.

‘Try this gold empire style,' suggested Amy, passing them each another dress.

Emerging from the dressing rooms, Ciara and Jess burst out laughing in unison: they both looked pregnant.

‘I don't think a long length does anything for the girls,' suggested Helen. ‘Maybe they should try on something a bit simpler and less fussy.'

‘I love the colour of this dress,' said Jess, appearing in an oyster-coloured silk knee-length with a lovely swing to the skirt. ‘But the bust is far too small for me.'

Helen laughed, as Jess was literally bursting out of it.

The dress fitted Ciara perfectly but made her look as if she needed to go to the doctor for severe anaemia.

‘The colour is barf!' she said, sticking her tongue out.

An hour later they had exhausted every possibility in the shop and hadn't found a single dress that either girl liked or fitted into properly.

‘Let's try Coast!' suggested Amy. ‘They do great cocktail, dinner and party wear.'

Coast, up on Stephen's Green, was busy, but they bagged a sales assistant and a dressing room. Helen found a comfortable seat from which to survey the proceedings. There were racks of pretty dresses, she thought. They were bound to find something here.

Ciara liked a grey fitted cocktail dress with a tight skirt.

‘I'd never fit into that,' pleaded Jess.

‘Anyway, the two of you are not wearing grey, black or brown to my wedding,' insisted Amy, as she trawled through the displays.

‘This pale pink with the floral hem is very popular for weddings this year,' said the assistant, ‘and also lots of people are going for this red with the white tie bow for their bridesmaids.'

Amy didn't really want her bridesmaids dressed like everyone else, but agreed to the girls trying them on.

Ciara looked fabulous in the red, with her long mane of dark hair and pale skin. Even though you wouldn't have expected it to, it suited her Goth style.

Jess emerged from the dressing room puce with effort. ‘I can't even get the zip up,' she explained. ‘There's no give or stretch. There's no way I'll fit into the bloody thing.'

‘That's the largest we have,' said the assistant loudly, embarrassing Jess even more.

‘But I like the red,' said Ciara, getting stroppy.

‘Well, you're not having it,' snapped Amy, putting the red dresses back.

‘Why don't we take a break and all go for a coffee?' Helen said diplomatically, sensing the heated atmosphere and leading them over to the café upstairs overlooking the Green.

‘Well, at least we know now,' she ventured, sipping her frothy cappuccino, ‘that the girls don't suit floor-length and that we need a material with a bit of softness and give in it for Jess, nothing too tailored. There're bound to be loads of places that have lovely dresses.'

‘One of the teachers in my school got married last August, and got her bridesmaid dresses in Monsoon. They looked lovely in the photos,' Jess ventured. ‘It's only down the street, so maybe we could have a look there.'

The Monsoon dresses were beautiful – full of colour and detail and sparkling beadwork – but were a little bit too ethnic-looking to Amy's mind.

They tried the other high-street stores like Laura Ashley and Next and found nothing suitable. One sample dress in one of the big stores was so dirty-looking that Ciara refused to put it on. ‘I'd get a disease from that!' she said, pointing out the grease and make-up and sweat-stains that spoiled the plum-coloured satin shift.

Footsore and weary, they soldiered on, crossing the Liffey to Arnotts and Clerys, at both shops drawing a blank.

‘Some of the dresses are so fussy,' complained Amy. ‘Why can't someone design a simple bridesmaid-style dress that comes in two lengths and a huge range of colours that everyone would wear? It's not rocket science, surely!'

‘This is torture,' complained Ciara, downing tools and sitting on a stool. Helen could see that Jess was about to join in the protest, too, so she suggested feeding the troops at the nearest fast-food outlet.

‘We can go to the Food Emporium,' coaxed Amy. ‘We can get everything we want there, and eat quickly, and get back out shopping.'

Thirty minutes later, revived, they set off again, this time deciding to hit three bridal boutiques in the city centre.

Pink, pink, and more pink and plum was all they seemed to offer.

‘I'm not wearing any of them,' swore Ciara, as she pulled on a blossom-pink off-the-shoulder ballet-style dress.

‘You used to have something like that when you were younger,' Helen remembered.

‘We had matching ones,' Amy joked. ‘I was about eleven or twelve and Ciara was four or five! We were like two ballerina girls!'

‘I think the colour drains me,' said Jess, pirouetting in the mirror.

God give me patience, thought Helen. Her feet were killing her. She suspected she was getting a blister and she didn't know how much more of this trying-on she could take. Anything that suited one bridesmaid seemed to look awful on the other, and the things the girls liked Amy didn't! They were never going to find dresses.