Every Bride Needs a Groom (18 page)

I'm a romantic, and we romantics are more sensitive to the way people feel. We love more, and we hurt more. When we're hurt, we hurt for a long time.

Freddy Fender

O
ur morning at the stockyard stretched across the lunch hour. Brady insisted on buying me lunch at a barbecue place that turned out to be almost as yummy as Sam's. The conversation went really well until the end of the meal when he brought up Casey.

Brady took a swig from his glass of tea and then leaned
back in his chair. “Tell me about your fiancé, Katie. Where did you meet him?”

“Is this for the article?” I asked. “Because if it is, I'd rather not.”

“No, not for the article.” He gazed at me from across the table, a pained expression on his face. “I'm not all business, you know.”

“I-I know.” I gave a deep sigh. “I'm sorry, Brady. I have a lot on my mind today.”

“Like what? Stressing over the photo shoot?”

“Not really so much that.”

“Your wedding?” Brady grabbed the bill, then pulled out his wallet.

“No, trust me. Not that.”

“It's coming together like you'd hoped, then?” He gave me an inquisitive look as he placed a credit card with the bill.

I shook my head. “I'm not saying that either.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“You and your mom are doing a lot already. Too much, really.”

“Never too much for you, Katie.” As Brady spoke these words, he reached across the table as if he wanted to take hold of my hands. He stopped just before touching me. “I-I'm sorry.”

“Sorry for what you've done for me?” I asked.

“No. Not at all.” He pulled his hands back and passed the bill off to the waiter, who'd appeared at his side. “You've been really easy to do for. And I'm glad—really, really glad—that you're the one who won the contest. We wouldn't have gotten to know you any other way. So I'm grateful.”

There was a genuineness in his voice that touched me to the core. For whatever reason, his kindness stirred up emotions in me that I hadn't felt before. In that moment, I knew what I had to do.

“Brady, there's something I need to tell you. It's really important.”

“Of course. What is it, Katie?” I could read the concern in his eyes, which did little to squelch the gnawing in my gut.

“It's about my wedding.”

He put his hand up. “I might work in a wedding shop, but I need to give a little disclaimer that I stink at wedding stuff. So if you're looking for my advice or my input, it's probably going to stink. I might just ruin your big day.”

“Oh, trust me, you're not going to be the one to ruin my big day.” I sighed. “It's too late anyway.”

“Too late? What do you mean?”

The waiter returned with the check and Brady glanced at it, took his credit card, and signed the receipt.

“Brady, I just feel like I should tell you that—”

His cell phone rang, and he groaned as he glanced down at it. “I'm sorry, Katie. It's my mom. She knows we're out looking for the perfect site for photos, and I think she's anxious.” He shrugged and answered the phone. Seconds later, the two were engaged in a lengthy conversation about various places at the stockyard that would be good for pictures.

A short time later Brady ended the call and then leaned my way. “I haven't been very good company, I'm afraid. And I guess that call doesn't really prove what I said earlier, that I'm not all business.”

“It's okay,” I said. “It really is.”

We could talk later. Or not. Why I felt like baring my soul to this handsome basketball player, I could not say. I barely knew the guy. Still, he deserved to know the truth. Maybe if I could get him to understand my situation, he could help me figure out a plan to let his mother know before the photo shoot.

“I promise not to ruin the rest of the afternoon with business stuff. Where would you like to go next?”

“You're not ruining my day at all, Brady. I've really enjoyed being with you.” And I had. More than I'd imagined. “And I know the perfect place we can go. My country girl roots are about to be exposed.”

“Oh?” He rose.

“Yep. It's the perfect place.” I stood and faced him. “The petting zoo.”

“The petting zoo?” He chuckled. “Now, that's a first.”

“Do you mind? I'd love to.”

“Don't mind a bit.”

His leisurely manner continued as we walked down Main Street toward the pen where the animals were kept. At the entrance we bought some feed for the goats and then went inside the covered area.

“We're the only adults in here.” Brady laughed as he looked around. “That's a telling sign, don't you think?”

“Maybe, but it doesn't matter. I love animals. I miss them.” I knelt down in front of the first cage and dumped some of the feed into my palm, then passed it off to a baby goat.

“Whatever you say.” Brady followed my lead and tried to do the same, but a goat snatched the feed cup straight out of his hand.

“Ha. Looks like you're not as fast in the pen as you are on the court.”

“Hey now.”

“I'm serious. When you hang out with animals, you've got to think quick.”

“Obviously.” Brady stuck his hand inside my cup and grabbed some feed, then passed it off to a baby goat, which licked his hand clean. “See there? I'm a fast learner.”

“You're good with animals.” And people. No one could deny this guy was great with people.

I knelt down for some time, the weirdest emotions rippling over me as I tended to the goats. I was struck by feelings I hadn't experienced for a while—homesickness, and heartsickness too. A lump rose in my throat.

“Casey has goats,” I whispered.

“Casey?” Brady tried to dump more of my feed into his hand but missed. It landed in a clump on a goat's nose. “Oh yeah. The fiancé.”

I sighed. “The fiancé. Only . . . not.”

“Not? He doesn't really have goats, you mean?”

“Oh, he has goats. Four of them.” Tears sprang to my eyes. “I miss them.”

“The goats or the fiancé?” Brady set the feed cup down on a post and stared at me.

“All of them.” Being around these animals had stirred up far too many emotions. When I shut my eyes I could see myself standing on Casey's property. Running in the field. Playing hide-and-seek as kids. The scents, the noises of the animals in the background. All of it melded together in my memory, in my heart. And in that moment, though I could never have predicted it, tears flooded willy-nilly down my face.

“Let's get you out of here.” Brady's voice startled me back to reality. “I think the scent of the goats is getting to you.” He helped me stand and then slipped my arm through his to walk me out of the petting zoo, back to Main Street. I didn't say a word the whole time. I couldn't, not with all of the sniffling going on. We finally came to a stop at a lamppost near the parking lot. Brady reached into his pocket and came out with a handkerchief, which I used to blow my nose.

“I don't know what happened back there, Katie,” he said.
“But we're not coming back to the stockyard for the photo shoot. This place is obviously too emotional for you.”

“I'm sorry. I really am. I just don't think I can do it, Brady.”

“The photo shoot, you mean?”

“No. Well, yes. The whole thing. All of it. The dress, the photo shoot, the—” I stopped myself before saying anything else. “I tried to tell Madge, but she wouldn't listen. This isn't what you think it is. I'm not who you think I am.”

He stared into my eyes with the sweetest, kindest expression on his face. “I know exactly who you are. You're Katie. From Fairfield.” A little wink followed as he added, “Enamored by goats.”

“Right. But the rest of it . . . it's not what you think.”

“Katie, I've had the strangest feeling all along that you don't like the wedding dress design. Is that it?”

“Oh, I totally love the design. It's not that at all.”

“You're not happy with the way the interview went yesterday?”

“The interview was a farce.”

“A farce?” He shook his head. “Explain.”

“It was a farce. I'm a farce. The wedding . . . is a farce. And the fiancé?” I pinched my eyes shut. “He's the biggest farce of all.”

“Wait. Are you telling me that you're not really engaged to Casey Lawson?”

My nerves really kicked in now. I shook my head. “I . . . I'm not engaged to Casey Lawson.”

“He broke your heart?” Brady's jaw twitched. “If he did, I'll hunt him down and—”

“It's not like that.” I paced the sidewalk. “I mean, he did break my heart, but not today. It was a couple weeks ago. Before I ever met you.”

“Huh?” Brady's confusion was evident by the expression on his face. “What are you saying?”

“I'm saying that he broke up with me right after I found out I'd won the dress. The engagement was off—really, it didn't even exist at all. I was never going to marry Casey.”

Brady scratched his head. “Of course you were going to marry him.”

I put my hand up. “Let me rephrase that. In my imagination I had the whole thing planned out. The entire wedding was strategized from beginning to end. I could tell you anything you wanted to know about my big day, but I couldn't tell you anything about what my life would be like after that. I planned for one thing and one thing only . . . and it didn't happen.”

“It's really not going to happen? Is that what you're saying? No wedding?” Brady's expression shifted from concern to frustration. “Please tell me this is some kind of sick joke so that I don't think you were just taking advantage of my mom.”

“I never wanted to take advantage of her . . . or you. And I do hope to get married someday.” I glanced at his face. The clenched jaw clued me in that he was angry. Who could blame him? “I'd love to wear the dress your mom designed for me. But it's not going to happen anytime soon. Casey . . .” The tears came in earnest now. “Casey took off for Oklahoma.”

“Oklahoma?” Wrinkles formed between Brady's brows.

“Where the wind comes sweepin' down the plain.” I gave a deep sigh. “And I'm just plain stuck being a wannabe bride with an MIA groom.” My voice began to quiver again. “Only, I didn't know he was going to be MIA. I was sure Casey was the one. So sure that I made plans as if he'd already popped the question.”

“Wait. You're saying he never did?” Brady raked his fingers through his hair.

“Not technically. But don't you see? The point is, I was so busy planning for my fairy-tale wedding that I overlooked my very real life.” Tears came with abandon now as I felt the release of my words. “I'm an idiot. I wanted the wedding. I wanted it so bad that I entered the contest thinking it was inevitable. Only, it wasn't. And . . . he wasn't. And . . . we weren't. Nothing was inevitable except the part where I came out looking and feeling like a fool. I wanted the dress. I wanted the church. I wanted the invitations.”

“Wanted it so much that you didn't mind putting my mom on the spot?” A flash of anger sparked in his eyes.

“Trust me, I never wanted to hurt her. I came that first Saturday just to tell her I couldn't go through with it. But something—someone—stopped me.”

“Someone?” He gave me a knowing look. “Let me guess. Madge?”

“Yeah.”

“So, no wedding and no groom . . . but she still wanted you to take the dress?”

“You've got the picture. She didn't want to get your mom worked up before leaving for Paris. She thought it would be better to let sleeping dogs lie.”

“Do you mind if I ask what you planned to do with this dress if you weren't going to wear it?”

“I don't know.” I squeezed my eyes shut and willed myself not to cry. “Sometimes I think the whole wedding thing was just a big fantasy, something I dreamed about but was never meant to have.”

“You wanted the wedding, or you wanted the groom?”

A lump rose in my throat and I tried to speak around it. “I wanted him too.”

“Wanted . . . as in past tense?” For whatever reason, the
hopeful look in Brady's eyes gave me the courage to speak my mind.

“Wanted. Past tense.” I paused. “Casey is a great guy. He would've looked great in the tux. And he would've been smashing in the wedding pictures. And if you want the truth, I'm sure he would've made a great dad to our kids, even if he is a Presbyterian.”

“Wait. What does being Presbyterian have to do with anything?”

“I have no idea, really, but it factors in. Ask Queenie.”

“Well, if I ever meet her, I will.”

“Point is, he wasn't the right guy for me. The wedding was never supposed to happen. It's so obvious now. I had to come all the way to Dallas to see what I couldn't see in Fairfield. I was just blinded by . . .”

“The idea?”

I sighed. “Too many years reading bridal magazines.”

“Don't let Jordan Singer hear you say that!” Brady rested his hand on my shoulder and smiled.

“Jordan Singer.” I hesitated. “The photo shoot. I-I can't do it. You see what I mean? How can I go on the cover of a bridal magazine wearing a dress that was never meant for me?”

Brady didn't respond for a moment. Instead, he started pacing. And pacing. And pacing some more. His expression shifted several times—from confusion to frustration to resignation. Finally he came to a stop in front of me, a more peaceful look on his face.

“Okay, it's clear we've got some things to figure out. But maybe Madge was right. Maybe you should still take the dress.” Brady shrugged. “Just because the fiancé wasn't the perfect fit doesn't mean the dress won't be. And just because the wedding isn't pending doesn't mean you're not going to someday be a
beautiful bride. I say you put on the wedding dress, hold your head up high, and march into that photo shoot with a smile.”