Authors: S. A. Wolfe
Lauren comes out from behind the screen with her stunning gown sweeping across the floor. “Oh, my God!” We haven’t looked in the mirror yet, but her horrified expression says it all. “Jess, that doesn’t fit you. It looks like you’re wearing a bedspread!” Lauren exclaims,
Jess clutches the top of the dress to keep it from sliding down her chest. She has absolutely no curves to fill the gown.
Lauren turns to Emma whose dress is too short and too tight. “Oh.” Lauren lets out a small, high-pitched gasp. “You look like a hooker.”
Lauren looks at my dress and her mouth drops open. My dress is longer than Emma’s, but the cleavage problem is much worse and totally inappropriate for a church wedding.
“Don’t say it.” I try to pull the dress up to cover my breasts better, but there isn’t enough material.
“You look like the madam that runs the brothel where these two work,” Lauren says angrily. “And these aren’t champagne. It’s poo brown!”
“It’s Band-Aid brown.” Jess can’t help herself.
“I will fix them, Lauren,” my mother says calmly. If anyone can take charge in a room of girls gone mad, it’s my mother. “Go over there and let them do your hair and makeup. I’m handling these dresses.”
“What if they run to the outlet mall and just get some new dresses? The J. Crew store, anything. Someone will have dresses ready to wear,” Lauren says frantically.
“We have ninety minutes until the service. There isn’t enough time to shop for new dresses. I will repair these, and you all will look lovely for the service and the photos. Please, go sit.”
Nina takes her distraught daughter over to the stylists, who wisely turn her around so Lauren will face the window and not be able to watch her dysfunctional bridesmaids.
“This is when a shot of whiskey really comes in handy. Too bad we have a pregnant bride. I can’t even give her a joint.” Lois sighs, shaking her head.
“Maybe we need that joint to go out in public in these dresses.”
My mother shoots me her fed-up look.
“You’re going to need chicken cutlets,” Emma says to Jess.
“What?” Jess asks, confused.
“You don’t have any boobs,” I explain. “You’re going to have to stuff rubber boobies in your bra to fill out your dress.”
“I’m not stuffing fake poultry in my dress. Pam can take in the top.”
“I can’t take it in that much,” my mother mutters.
An hour later, after my mother cuts ample amounts of material from Jess’s dress and adds it to Emma’s and the top of mine, we have somewhat presentable attire.
Lauren walks across the room with the statuesque grace of a runway model, her natural beauty shining through with her long, blond hair swept up into a simple chignon and her honey-colored tan that is complemented by the ivory silk. She chose a minimalist approach to her makeup, a little blush and peach-toned eye shadow. She doesn’t need much since her megawatt smile is breathtakingly beautiful.
“Oh, Lauren,” I stutter. “You are the most beautiful bride. I might cry.”
“Don’t you dare because then I’ll cry and my wedding will really go to shit.”
“What do you think?” my mother asks Lauren, who is studying our dresses.
Each dress has been given its own unique twist, whatever my mother had to do to make all three work together. They are all the same length and all strapless, of course, but each one had to be altered in a way to fit Jess’s skinny body, Emma’s athletic form, and my voluptuous shape.
“I’m still not fond of the color, but the dresses actually look nice.” Lauren smiles and claps her hands together. “They’re each a little different, but they go together, and you all look great.”
Jess gave in to stuffing her bra and is showing off a little cleavage. Her dress has been shortened so it sits below the knee and is gathered along the sides with ruching. Emma had material added to lengthen her dress and to give her more room in the bodice, so she has an interesting seam of asymmetrical ruffles. My dress was given some extra bands of both ruffles and ruching to cover my chest and flatter my hourglass figure.
As the stylists apply our makeup and work the curling irons to give all three of us long, loose curls, my mother huddles with us while Nina distracts Lauren from all the busy details.
“Listen,” my mother whispers to us. “Whatever you do, don’t sit down quickly or move fast in any way. The polyester mesh material shreds very easily, and when I repositioned the zippers, I noticed the material pulling away. It practically disintegrates, so be very careful.”
“How are we going to dance in these things?” Jess asks.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “We just have to make it down the aisle and then pose for the photos. Then who cares what happens to the dresses. By the time we’re at the reception, everyone will be drinking and won’t give a flying kcuf what we look like.”
Emma laughs.
“Seriously, at the end of the night, we’re going to burn these crap-brown dresses with the unity candle so we never have to see them again,” I explain.
My mother chuckles. “After all the work I just put into these dresses, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you say that. But I am worried about those zippers tearing out.”
“I have an idea,” I say.
The stylist holds up a hand mirror so I can see my hair and makeup.
“Super. Thank you,” I say flatly. “Are we done here? I need to take care of something.”
“You’re done,” Lois nods approvingly.
I walk quickly out of the room, mindful of the fragile fabric, and find the men’s changing room. I barge in to find them all dressed, shooting Nerfballs at a net hanging from a high beam in the ceiling.
“Whoa! Hey, you.” Cooper smiles, striding towards me, looking gut-wrenchingly handsome in his black tux. His hair is pulled back in a low, short ponytail and he is clean-shaven. I’ve never seen him without the stubble.
On their own volition, my hands reach up for his face. “Wow.”
“Hmm. I clean up pretty good. I think I deserve a kiss for this. And your sunburn is gone. Your skin is glowing. I want to bite you.”
“Can’t do,” I inform him, still cupping his smooth cheeks. “You’ll ruin my makeup, and we have an emergency. I need your help.”
“Is something wrong?” he asks, resting his hands on my waist.
“We’re wearing disposable dresses, no time to explain.”
His gaze sweeps down to my strappy heels and up to my cleavage in appreciation. “You look amazing. I want to find a coat closet and show you how many ways I appreciate this dress.”
“Very sweet. Is that a quote from a Pablo Neruda love poem?”
Cooper grins. “What do you need?”
“I need a stapler. And fast. I know there’s one in the secretary’s office in the rectory, but it’s locked. I need you to go in there and get at least one stapler, if not more.”
“Why don’t you ask Father Pat for the stapler? He can open the office.”
“He’s in the middle of the service before Lauren’s, and we need the stapler now. I know they have one because, one summer, I worked in the office as an assistant. I need you to do this because we are having issues with these dresses, and … just do it, please.”
“You want me to break into the rectory and steal staplers?” He feigns disapproval. “If I do time for this B and E job, you better be there for my regular conjugal visits.”
“You got it.” I give him a thumbs-up and get a whiff of his soap and deodorant mingling together in the best
kcuffing
aphrodisiac. “I will do anything you want in that coat closet tonight. I’ll do it on a train, in a plane, in a boat … whatever you want.”
“Excellent.”
“Meet me back at the women’s dressing room.” I do a fast, robotic wiggle-walk to our room where I find Lauren pacing again.
When Cooper is there in less than ten minutes, I don’t bother to ask how he broke into the church’s office. He hands me two large staplers and four mini ones before I push him back out the door.
“What are you doing?” Jess asks as I unzip her dress and begin stapling the zipper trim onto the flimsy fabric, hiding the staples under the seam.
“Giving us extra protection and a little extra time before the dresses rip apart.”
“Well, be careful back there. Don’t staple my skin.”
“Brilliant,” Lois adds.
“Not my first choice, but not bad, honey.” My mother picks up a stapler and works on Emma’s dress and then mine.
Lauren watches nervously. “I really wish I could have that whiskey,” she mumbles.
“Sweetie,” I say, putting down the stapler and walking over to Lauren. “Your wedding is going to be beautiful. It already is.”
Lauren smiles. “I love you for saying that.”
“It’s true, though. And I love you.” I give her a light hug without crushing our dresses. “And I have something for you.”
“Don’t make me cry,” Lauren warns as she steps back and blots her eyes with a tissue.
I pull a small, silk pouch from my bag and drop a dainty necklace into my palm. “I don’t want to ruin your neckline and minimalist approach with your gown, so I won’t be offended if you don’t want to wear it.”
Lauren takes the necklace with the tiny gold heart-shaped locket and holds it up.
“I made it for you. The locket is marked with 1914 and faded initials on the back, but you can make out the word
love
. It has the original baby blue velvet backing inside of it. It’s something old and something blue, and I thought it would be subtle enough to wear with your dress. I used very small chain remnants with a few of those itty bitty rosary beads you found.”
“Imogene, it’s lovely. I had no idea you were making this for me. Of course I’m going to wear it.” Lauren looks weepy as she hands it to her mother.
“Don’t cry!” I point my finger at Lauren as Nina laughs and clasps the chain around her daughter’s neck.
By the time we walk down the hall to meet the groomsmen, we’re each wearing at least a few dozen staples in our dresses and itching from a few poorly placed ones.
“Carson, you shaved!” Jess shrieks happily.
He gives her that same smug smile that Cooper gave me, although Carson didn’t tie his hair back. His eyes glaze over as he notices his wife’s new bosom.
“Don’t get too excited.” I lean in towards him. “They’re not real. Jess needed a little extra padding and lift.”
“I’m wearing rubber breasts,” Jess mutters to him.
“Sorry, babe.” He’s still staring at her chest. “You still look like a goddess.”
Cooper puts out his arm for me, his gray eyes serious. “Ready?”
“Yes.” I take his arm as we line up behind Leo and his parents. As Eleanor hands out our bouquets, my fingers tremble so much I drop the flowers. Cooper catches them before they hit the floor and returns them to me with a wink.
I can’t stop looking at Cooper as I hear the chamber quartet begin to play a beautiful, classical piece while Leo joyfully walks down the aisle with his mother and father, high-fiving people along the way, which makes everyone laugh.
The rustic, old church is exquisitely decorated and the pews are packed with half the town, but I’m giddily holding onto Cooper and so excited to be with him I don’t recognize a single face as we walk down the aisle. He looks down at me and gives me a small smile before releasing me to the bride’s side of the altar. Emma and Dylan come next, looking perfectly relaxed and happy, as any newlywed couple would be. Carson and Jess follow, Jess twitching as if she’s trying to adjust her dress without using her hands. I glare at her and try to subtly shake my head
no.
“The cutlets are going south,” she whispers angrily as she passes me to line up next to Emma.
As the joyful music heightens and everyone stands for the bride, I put aside my worries and failure as a maid of honor to watch my best friend walk down the aisle, holding on to both of her parents. Ugly bridesmaid dresses and staples aside, she is a beautiful bride, and I’m so overcome with happiness for her I have the urge to weep. I do not cry at weddings or births of babies, but something has changed intrinsically, making me want to weep at the sight of Lauren’s beaming smile.
When she turns to Leo and his face breaks open into a wide grin, I almost lose it. With Cooper staring at me, raising a questioning eyebrow, I take a deep breath and pull myself together until the service is over.
When the photographer herds us outside for an extensive photo shoot, I clutch tightly onto Cooper’s arm.
“Are you all right?” He looks concerned.
“A little light-headed from the excitement, I guess. I didn’t eat breakfast.”
“Then we need to get you to the reception before you faint. Just keep holding onto me.”
I sway a little like a drunk when the photographer pulls me away from Cooper and has me pose with Lauren and the bridesmaids. Then we do more group photos where I gladly cling to Cooper’s arm with a death grip.
Archie appears with a very attractive, older woman who looks closer to his age and isn’t someone who is part of Lois’s circle of friends. He is absolutely bouncing with delight as he wrangles the wedding party into three different limos. I ride with Cooper, Emma, Dylan, Jess, and Carson while Lauren and Leo and the parents ride in separate limos.
The reception is held in a historic hotel, and as Cooper and I wade through the tables of party guests to the head table, I glance around and notice familiar faces. Well, more like familiar ex-boyfriends. Oh, God, Cody Aasland, Mr. Quarterback, is here and Jeremy! I see a couple of more mistakes from high school and college. It’s a kcuffing wanker convention.
I take my place at the U-shaped head table between Lauren and Emma with Cooper across from me between Leo and Dylan. Lauren is going with an unconventional reception, letting a few of us give the toasts. Leo is going to speak first, then me, and then Cooper. I pull out my little notes from my cleavage, but they’re smudged from my perspiration.
“Oh, great,” I mumble.
When I down the glass of champagne the minute it’s poured, the waiter does a double take and quickly refills my glass that I promptly empty again. “I will be your best customer tonight.” I tip him with a twenty, two fives, and four quarters, two dimes, and six pennies. It gives him a good laugh.