Reluctant Witness (53 page)

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Authors: Sara M. Barton

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BOOK: Reluctant Witness
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“But I’m sure I can find you
something....”

“Perhaps on another visit,” I countered.
“Today just isn’t the right day.”

While Clovis got changed back into her street
clothes, the consultant continued her sales pitch to no avail. I
pulled the shop manager aside and explained it wasn’t anyone’s
fault. “There are other forces at work here. If and when she’s
ready to try on dresses again, we’ll call for another
appointment.”

“Don’t worry about it. It happens sometimes.
Brides get cold feet,” she said with a pleasant, practiced
smile.

“Indeed,” I nodded, not bothering to explain
further. I was pretty sure that wasn’t the problem, but why waste
my breath trying to explain it to a stranger who didn’t know what
Clovis was facing?

When we got outside, the bride-to-be seemed
to lose what little steam she had left. “Who am I kidding? I’m just
not up to this. Maybe I should just postpone the wedding, until my
mom’s feeling better.”

“What’s not working for you?” Nancy inquired,
carefully watching her. I knew the look she wore; Nancy was
determined to find out what was bothering Clovis and she was
prepared to dig her heels in until she got the truth.

“Nothing. I just don’t feel like dress
shopping.”

Nancy glanced at me, her concern obvious, and
gave me a silent appeal to do something. I stepped in and took the
bull by the horns.

“Can I give you a piece of advice? My mom had
cancer and it was a tough couple of years. We thought about
postponing some of our big family events, but you know what my mom
said? Those were the only good times she had to look forward to,
and if we canceled them, she’d always regret it.” I choked up,
remembering those last difficult months of my mother’s life. I’d
give anything to have my mother with me at my wedding. “It was
important to her that we enjoy the time we had with her and do
things that made us stronger as a family. I don’t know where I
would be now without those memories to remind me now of how
important love is....”

We stood there for a few seconds in silence,
collecting our thoughts in our effort to regroup and save what was
left of the morning.

“Of course!” Nancy slapped herself on the
forehead. “What an idiot I am!”

“Excuse me?” I found myself taken aback. I
had no idea what she meant.

“Why are you an idiot?” Clovis wanted to
know. “I’m the one having a problem.”

“You always dreamed of doing this with Julie!
How could I be so dumb?” the mentor-turned-substitute mother
wondered aloud. “We can video chat, so she can see you in the
dresses and tell us what she thinks of each one.”

“Oh.” It was one tiny word, but the way
Clovis uttered it, it became a sigh. One look at the bride and I
could see she hadn’t even realized how much she missed her mother
being part of the festivities.

Nancy pressed on. “Will that make you feel
better, Clovy?”

“Yes. Yes, it will.”

“Perfect. Now, shall we go back into the
store?” Nancy turned to me. Glancing at my watch, I realized we had
just over a half an hour until the next appointment. I shook my
head.

“Let’s move on and start fresh,” I suggested,
knowing Clovis needed a little time to wrap her head around the
dress-buying process, especially now that her mother was going to
be included. I gave Clovis directions to the second shop, just a
few blocks away. By the time we entered through the front door, we
were optimistic that this buying trip would yield success for the
bride.

Julie was home when Nancy called to explain
the dilemma. She promised to settle herself in her favorite chair,
prepared for the onslaught of phone calls that would follow.

In the meantime, I took the shop manager
aside and explained the reason for our time constrictions. The
particular dresses we were looking at were available for rush
delivery from the manufacturer. Perfect Bride would ship the gown
on Monday and it would be in seamstress’s hands by Tuesday.

“Don’t worry about it,” Kathy promised. “As
long as the alterations aren’t complicated, we’ll figure out a way
to get it done in time. I’ll smooth things over with Dorena.”

Clovis decided the first dress was too puffy
at the waist.

“I can fix it,” the seamstress insisted. “You
come in for a couple of fittings between now and the wedding.”

“A couple of fittings? How long will that
take?” the bride wanted to know. Nancy turned the phone towards the
woman who was pinching fabric and pinning it back.

“Nervous brides gain weight or lose it in the
months leading up to the big day. We do a little here, a little
there, until it is just right. You’re going to look beautiful,”
Dorena assured her, pulling the fabric tighter.

“But the wedding is in two weeks,” Julie
pointed out.

“Two weeks? Oh, I do not think it is
possible. That is not much time,” she clucked, shaking her head.
“Most brides buy the dress months in advance.”

Kathy stepped in to explain to both the
mother of the bride and the seamstress that despite the fact it was
a rush job, it could be done. Dorena didn’t seem quite as sure as
her boss did, until we all gathered around Nancy’s phone and she
saw Julie’s chemo cap. A little jolt of understanding seemed to
pass through her as she blustered her way out of the corner she was
in.

“You leave it to me. If I can get the dress
in the shop by Thursday, I can get it done in time.”

“Thank you,” the relieved mother told her.
“It means a lot.”

“Okay,” said the consultant. “Back to the
dressing room, so you can slip into the next one.”

“We’ll call you back in a couple of minutes,”
Nancy promised Julie.

“I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere.”

We hit pay dirt on the fourth dress. The
moment she stepped out of the dressing room, Clovis was
beaming.

“This is it,” said the lawyer. “This is the
one.”

“You’re sure? You absolutely, positively,
most definitely need to be married in this dress?” Nancy played
devil’s advocate, testing the waters.

“You don’t like it?” Clovis’s face fell. “I
think it’s lovely. What don’t you like about it?”

“Answer my question, toots. Is this or is
this not the dress?” demanded the experienced mentor, with all the
grace of an investigator breaking down a suspect’s story. I rolled
my eyes in response and broke in.

“Clovis, she’s busting your chops, to make
sure you love it,” I informed the nervous bride-to-be. “So, do
you?”

“I do!”

“Let’s see what Mama says,” Nancy suggested,
turning on her camera for the last time as Julie answered the call.
“It’s not official until we get her approval. Now twirl around and
strut your stuff, Clovy.”

The delighted bride studied her reflection in
the mirrors, turning this way and that. It was obvious to the
expanding circle of women around Clovis that this was indeed the
dress. A moment later, we heard an excited shout from Julie.

“Yes! That’s it! It’s perfect!”

Nancy summoned Clovis to the phone. “Pull
yourself away from the looking glass, Alice. Your mama wants to
speak with you.”

Ten minutes and a few tears later, a very
happy bride finished the conversation with her mother. “She says
yes.”

“Excellent. Now get changed back into your
clothes, so we can grab some lunch. I’m starved.” Nancy gave her a
playful push in the direction of the changing room. “And by the
way, I’ve never seen you look lovelier.”

 

Chapter Forty
Seven

 

We spent the rest of the afternoon ticking
things off Clovis’s to-do list. By the time we got back to the
bungalow, David and his friends were busy in the backyard, pulling
weeds. Trays of colorful annuals were ready for planting.

“White begonias and pink impatiens. Lovely,”
I smiled. “They’ll make a nice backdrop.”

“I hope so.” David leaned back on his heels.
“We may be cutting it short a bit. What if they don’t bloom before
the wedding?”

“They’ll be fine. Just spray them with liquid
fertilizer once a week until the wedding.”

Nancy had something on her mind and she
shared it later that evening, as we were getting ready for bed.

“Change in plans, Marigold. You’re going to
stay here until after the wedding. Your job is to make sure this
all goes off without a hitch. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Whatever Clovis needs, we’re going to make
it happen. This is going to be the best damn wedding anyone’s ever
seen!”

We dropped Nancy off at LAX Sunday afternoon
for her flight back to Atlanta. She promised to return four days
before the wedding and pitch in with the preparations. After
hugging the bride-to-be, she asked if she could speak privately to
me for just a moment. Pulling me aside, she had some final
instructions.

“Listen, kid, if her mother is as fragile as
I think she is, she’s going to need some help in making it through
the big day. Call Julie and find out exactly what she needs in the
way of oxygen and anything else. Be honest with her. Tell her your
own experience with your mom. And get a room ready for Clovis’s
parents to stay in, so her mother can nap when she’s tired. You and
I can bunk together when I come back.”

“You sound like you’ve had some experience
with this,” I remarked, surprised.

“Terry’s mom had two heart attacks before she
was fifty; she was on her last legs when he finally popped the
question. We had planned to have a big summer wedding, but instead,
we got married just before Thanksgiving, with a handful of people
there. Best decision I ever made. Gloria was a wonderful woman and
she raised a wonderful son. I just wish my mother-in-law had lived
long enough to enjoy her grandkids.”

“Life never seems to give us what we want,
does it?” I sighed.

“No, kid. You’ve got to take happiness where
you find it and make the most of it, because the world can be a
cruel place. We should never squander love. It’s too precious a
commodity.”

The time flew by as the wedding day drew
near. Every day I had a list of tasks to accomplish. Clovis had her
final fitting for the dress. The flowers were ordered, the menu
decided, and the tent, tables, chairs, flatware, and dishes were
rented.

Julie and I talked by phone several times.
She wanted the bride and groom to have dancing, but every time I
raised the subject, Clovis refused, until late one night during a
conversation about the wedding, she revealed the truth. She didn’t
want her wheelchair-bound mother to feel bad that she couldn’t
dance with her father. I passed this along to Julie the next
day.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” she growled. “What
is wrong with that girl?”

“Would you like me to make the arrangements?”
I laughed.

“Please do, Marigold. We’ll pay for it. It
will be a gift from her father and me.”

“I’ll add a sound system. We can program the
music. Do you have any favorite tunes?”

“Are you kidding? I started a list the day
after I met David! I knew he was going to marry my little
girl.”

“Great. And I’ll ask David for his list of
tunes, too. This will be a nice surprise for Clovis.”

As an event planner, I was fairly experienced
in keeping things on an even keel, so I had little trouble keeping
Clovis on track as the days ticked down to that all-important
weekend. By the time Nancy arrived, there were only minor items
left on the to-do list, but it was nice to have someone ready to
take them on. Much of her time was spent keeping Clovis
laughing.

Julie and Bob drove down from Monterey on
Thursday, taking their time. When the car pulled into the driveway,
Beatrice barked. We all filed out to greet the parents.

“Here we are,” Bob announced, “with bells
on.”

“I can’t believe I’m getting married the day
after tomorrow,” Clovis gushed, hugging her father and then her
mother.

It was obvious Julie was tired after the long
drive, but after a two-hour nap in the guest room, she was raring
to go, determined to join us for dinner.

We had a cookout in the backyard with David
and his parents. I made sure to include foods Julie told me she was
able to eat. I wanted her to feel like she was a part of the
celebration, not an afterthought.

On Friday morning, Clovis started to lose it.
Was it seeing her too-thin mother struggling to stand up from her
wheelchair or just the normal wedding jitters? We never did have a
chance to find out. Julie asked us all to excuse her as she sat her
daughter down in the living room for a serious talk. When they
emerged an hour later, Clovis was red-eyed, but relieved; the
mother-daughter talk seemed to do the trick.

The rental company arrived just after eleven
to set up for the reception. The men made several trips to and from
their truck, unloading equipment. Once the tent was set up, I gave
Bob the design chart and put him to work as supervisor for the
table set-up and the dance floor assembly.

Clovis met with her assistant in the office
out behind the house, to finish last minute paperwork for some
upcoming cases and inform clients she would be on her honeymoon for
the next couple of weeks. She had another lawyer available to
consult, should the need arise.

Julie rested in the living room, joined on
the sofa by both Cooper and Beatrice. I made a strawberry protein
shake for her and grabbed a couple of magazines, in case she wanted
some light reading.

Nancy and I got busy with the pink, orange,
and yellow floral arrangements for the guest tables. We spent an
hour snipping stems on an assortment of roses, carnations,
alstroemeria, statice, and lilies, tucking the blossoms into clear
glass vases. Once we were done, Nancy left to pick up the wedding
dress at the shop and I started the wedding bouquet.

Grabbing two white roses from the bucket of
water, I carefully taped the stems together before adding another
pair. I continued the process until I had a dozen blossoms taped
together. When the bouquet was done, I placed it in the
refrigerator. Tomorrow I would wrap it with satin ribbon before
handing it off to the bride for the walk down the aisle.

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