Picture Perfect (Weddings by Design Book #1): A Novel (10 page)

I sighed.

“Here’s another little tidbit—one I learned from an awesome trio of godly ladies from Splendora. There’s no storm too big to praise your way through. You might not feel like it, but praising God in the middle of the tough times is really the best way to shift your focus and to build your faith.”

“Praise.” I chewed on the word, deep in thought.

What I could never admit to Bella—or anyone, for that matter—was that praising God didn’t come as naturally to me as it once had. Oh, there had been a time just a few years ago when I could keep my praise pom-poms bouncing up and down with youthful enthusiasm. These days, however, I just felt tired. I’d packed my pom-poms and replaced them with a more jaded view of life.

“I know what you’re thinking, girl,” Bella said. “Remember, I said I’ve walked a mile in your shoes. You’re thinking that praising God takes energy and you don’t have a lot of it.”

“You’re pretty good at seeing inside my head.”

“Told you, we’re two peas in a pod. Been there, done that. But if you want change, whether it’s in your personal life or your business, there’s really only one way—you have to start thanking God for it now, before you ever see a thing. In all things give thanks.” She grinned.

“In all things? When my parents are putting me through a guilt trip or when the rent is due on the studio?”

“All things, girl. Oh, speaking of your rent, don’t let me forget to pay you for today’s photo shoot.”

I’d just put up my hand to argue that point with her when she shut me down. “Anyway, let’s get real, Hannah. We really need to be praising even more during the rough times. That’s probably why the Bible calls it a
sacrifice
of praise.”

“Ah, sacrifice. A word I know well.” I chuckled.

I thought about how ironic it was that Bella and I had both lived here on the island for so many years, but we hadn’t really known each other until today. Of course, she was a few years my senior, so we hadn’t been schoolmates. Still, how had so much time lapsed without us meeting and becoming friends?

We didn’t get a chance to wrap up the conversation because Rosa and Mama entered through the back door with Earline close behind. Minutes later, D.J. swept into the room, planted a kiss on Bella’s forehead, and banished her to the living room, taking her spot at the dishwasher.

Really? Are you sure you don’t have an unmarried brother somewhere?

Maybe not. But now I understood the point of Bella’s passionate conversation. She’d put in the hours building her business and had trusted God with the details. As a result, he
had blessed her with a husband who adored her and complemented her in every way.

Seeing it all in perspective made me want to try all the harder so that my story would have the same happily-ever-after ending. Now all I had to learn to do was praise my way through it.

Both your friend and your enemy think you will never die.

Irish proverb

I
had to practically tear Mama and Earline apart around 5:30. We had to get home—and quickly. Dad would be waiting for his dinner at 6:01. No veering from the usual plan.

As we prepared to leave, Mama offered tearful hugs all around, her voice emanating with joy. “I feel like my whole life has changed in a day,” she said. “Promise me we’ll do this again.”

“Of course we’re doing it again,” Rosa said. “Hannah invited us to your Bing and Bob party. And you’ll have to come back over here soon so we can talk about your upcoming episode on the Food Network.”

“I still can’t believe it.” Mama’s eyes glazed over. “I’m going to be on television.” She gave me a “what will your father say about this?” look, and I just grinned. Likely he would flip out—at first—then get used to the idea. Surely Mama worried in vain.

We arrived home in record time, and she reached into the refrigerator to pull out some leftovers, which she quickly crafted into a typical McDermott meal. “After what we’ve eaten today, it doesn’t look like much, does it?” Mama grinned. “But that’s our little secret.” Her eyes widened. “You will keep it secret, won’t you, Hannah? The part about me cooking Italian food, I mean.”

“I think it’s silly that you don’t want me to mention it. He’s going to have to know before that television episode hits the air. But I’ll keep it to myself . . . for now.”

“Thank you. I just don’t want to stir the waters. Yet. My day will come. I know it will.”

No doubt it would. In front of millions of television viewers, no less. The idea made me giddy and nervous all at the same time, especially when I remembered that—heaven help me—I’d agreed to do the show too.

Dad arrived home at 5:58, and we were seated around the table at the usual time, having our usual conversation and sharing in our usual fare. Afterward we settled in to watch our usual Saturday night television show,
Stars Collide
.

The opening song kicked in—the new one, with Sierra Caswell’s voice strong and steady—and I managed to calm down. The show began, and I laughed right away as my favorite characters—Angie, Jack, and Basil, the Greek talent scout we all loved to hate, played by Brock Benson—swept me away to worlds unknown. Laughter ruled the day.

My father dozed off in his recliner after the show ended,
and I headed upstairs to call Scarlet. With so much brewing, I had to fill her in. She answered on the third ring, and I dove right in, telling her all about my day. I shared the part about Armando—handsome, conceited Armando. I told her about Drew coming to my rescue. I even told her about my heartfelt conversation with Bella Neeley.

“Wow. Sounds like quite a day.” She chuckled. “And to think I spent the whole day in the kitchen baking.” Off she went on a tangent, telling me about a new recipe she’d concocted for Italian cream cake.

Ordinarily I zoned out during her recipe-a-thons, but I was intrigued by this one. Likely it had something to do with the fact that I would soon appear on the Food Network.

“I’ve never been much for time in the kitchen, but after today I can see the appeal,” I said.

“And you’re over this whole ‘I have to prove myself to Bella Neeley because she holds my future in her hands’ thing?”

“Yeah.” A sigh followed my words. “I feel like a real goober.”

“And all of this competition stuff with Drew.” She paused. “He’s a nice guy after all?”

“Yeah.” I couldn’t deny it, could I? He was a nice guy. Maybe a little too nice.

“Are you still worried that he’s your Jacquie Goldfarb?”

“Oh. Hmm. Not sure.”

After my whole coming-clean-with-Bella speech, I’d kind of forgotten that he was supposed to be my archnemesis. And every time I thought about Brock Benson coming to town, I realized that Drew and I now had something in common. Something big. I did my best to relax and think more clearly about all of this. Why see him as my competitor? Why not just view him as someone who understood my business and had similar goals?

Oblivious to my whirling thoughts, Scarlet continued to gab. “Hey, do you ever wonder what became of the real Jacquie Goldfarb? I mean, do you keep up with her on social networking sites or anything?”

“Keep up with her?” To be honest, I hadn’t. In fact, I’d gone out of my way to avoid finding out what had become of her. “I just know that she left for college and then moved away somewhere.”

“No idea where?”

“Nope.” I shrugged. “Never really cared to know.”

“You should try to track her down. Find her on Facebook.”

“Why? So I can see with my own eyes that she’s living in a mini mansion in Beverly Hills with the perfect husband and 2.5 kids?”

Scarlet chuckled. “I’d like to see a photo of 2.5 kids. Can’t imagine what that would look like.”

“It would look kind of like the family I spent the day with—pretty ideal. And I’m not sure I need to see just how perfect Jacquie’s life is.” A dark cloud hovered over me, casting its shadows on what had, until this moment, been a pretty blissful day.

Thanks, Scarlet, for bringing this up. I owe you.

“Still, seeing her again might help you jump this hurdle. You could talk through your feelings. Get it all out in the open.”

“Please.” My frustrations mounted. “You don’t know me very well if you think I would actually do that. I’d probably just end up making small talk or wishing I hadn’t found her in the first place.”

“C’mon now. Surely you’d come up with something to say to her, wouldn’t you?”

I paused to give my answer careful thought. “I’m not sure.
It’s not really her fault she always beat me out at everything. I’d probably just say, ‘Hope you’re having a great life.’”

“What if you found out she’s a supermodel, living a life of big money and high fashion?”

I shrugged. “Wouldn’t really matter, I guess. I never aspired to be a supermodel. I would just wish her well and go on with my life. No problem.”

Scarlet’s voice tightened. “What if you found out she had her own photography studio in Houston and just made
Texas Bride
’s top ten list of photographers in the state?”

Alarm bells sounded. My heart suddenly felt like lead. “Is that true, or are you speaking theoretically?”

“Speaking theoretically.”

I felt as if I’d lost a hundred pounds in an instant. Man. “Scarlet, I really don’t think we need to be having this conversation. I mean, honestly, what difference—”

“Let’s be gut honest. What if you found out she’d married some guy who treated her bad, and as a result of her sad, defeated life, she’d packed on eighty pounds?”

“No way.”

“Use your imagination.”

I would have to, to imagine Jacquie as anything other than slim, trim, and fit. Still, who ever knew?

“I saw this once in an
I Love Lucy
episode.”

Of course you did.

“Lucy was jealous of Ricky’s old girlfriend. She pictured all sorts of things about the woman in her mind. In the end, the old girlfriend showed up in town and she was . . . well, let’s just say she was no beauty queen, okay?”

“Ah.” Maybe I could learn a few lessons from Lucy, after all.

“The point is, I think you need to try to contact Jacquie just to lay this to rest. It doesn’t matter what happened yesterday.
You can’t let who or what she turned out to be rule what you do. We weren’t designed to worry about what others think. There’s only one opinion that matters, and I have it on good authority that he thinks you’re pretty swell.”

“Swell?” I grinned. “Who says
swell
?”

“God does. He told me you’re swell and I believe him. So there.”

“I see.”

“No you don’t. That’s the point.” The emotion in her voice intensified. “It’s pretty clear you don’t see just how swell you are or you wouldn’t always bring up Jacquie Goldfarb when you’re feeling down.”

“Hey, you brought her up this time.”

“I just beat you to the punch, that’s all. I knew it was coming. It’s inevitable.”

“Hmm.”

“Look, Hannah, here’s what I think. You might not be able to turn back the clock, but you can always wind it up again.”

“Huh?”

“Start fresh. If you can get past this, we can spend our days talking about that great business you’ve built and the number of clients you’re getting, now that the article in
Texas Bride
is out. We can also talk about how great it is that you have the opportunity of a lifetime shooting Sierra Caswell’s wedding, and how you go to bed at night thinking about the various camera angles and lighting problems.”

“How did you know that?”

“How did I know that?” She laughed. “You’re so funny, Hannah. I’m your best friend. It’s my job to know all of that, in the same way that you know I go to sleep thinking up cake recipes and decorating tips. We’re two peas in a pod. Only, not.”

“Oh.”

“So, promise me you’ll pray about trying to find Jacquie so you can put this behind you. Okay?”

After an exaggerated hesitation, I finally managed a quiet “Yeah.”

We ended the call, and I changed into my nightgown, wondering how my happy-go-lucky mood could have so easily shifted. Several minutes later I climbed into bed, snuggled under the covers, and reached for my laptop on the bedside table. Scarlet’s words bounced around in my head. Did it really make sense to look for Jacquie on Facebook? Of course not. Only a glutton for punishment would go looking for her archnemesis from the past. Right?

I paused to think it through before making a move. If I could talk to Jacquie Goldfarb again, what would I say? What would I secretly be hoping for? A chill ran through me as I contemplated my motives. The devilish side of me would hope for the worst, while the angelic side of me would wish her the best.

Likely she’d married a wealthy man, lived in a mega mansion in Houston, and spent her days at the country club or on the tennis court. Or maybe she had achieved fame or stardom in her field—whatever that happened to be. Yes, surely she had made something big of her life. She’d always been larger-than-life.

Then again, why would I want to know? It’s not like we could possibly have anything in common. And after years of battling the knots in my stomach every time her name was mentioned, resolution just seemed impossible. Not that contacting her would resolve anything, anyway. It would probably open a Pandora’s box and fill me with even more angst than before.

Yet something inside of me propelled me forward. I just couldn’t seem to help myself. After signing onto Facebook, I hesitantly typed in her name. A handful of names came up, most with slightly different spellings. Scrolling all the way down to the bottom of the page, I came across a match. To the left, the photo of a woman’s face—a familiar face—greeted me. There she was, in all of her glory—as beautiful and perfect as ever. Jacquie Goldfarb.

I read her profile information and tried to make sense of it, but it didn’t seem to compute.
She’s a realtor?
Odd. I’d never pictured her in that line of work. Stranger still, I’d never imagined her to be single. Last thing I heard, she and Matt Hudson—my near-miss prom date—were engaged. Weird.

I looked at Jacquie’s photo, wondering what her life in Houston was like. My imagination took off sprinting as I stared at the screen.

And stared at the screen.

And stared at the screen.

Until my curiosity got the better of me.

It took about three minutes to work up the courage, but I finally did the unthinkable.

I sent her a friend request.