That Wedding (17 page)

"Yeah, I do." I sigh. There's something I need to tell Phillip, but it's gonna be hard to talk about. "Phillip, I have a confession. I kinda lied when I said I'd never planned my dream wedding. Well, I didn't really lie, I never planned it, it's just there was this time when my mom and I talked about my wedding when I was little. I just always sorta assumed that's how it would be."

Phillip rolls in the hammock and faces me. "Tell me about it."

"We were at a wedding. I was young, maybe eight or nine. Mom pulled me on her lap and said,
Someday, you're going to get married just like this
. And since then, that's how I always thought my wedding would be. The wedding and the reception were held in a big ballroom. I remember being impressed by the huge sparkly chandeliers. I told her I wanted candles like the ones flickering on our table in my bedroom. She told me I couldn't have candles in my bedroom, but that I could have them at my wedding. She told me candlelight is romantic and that my wedding would be romantic because the day would be all about love. I told her the bride looked like a princess, and she told me that someday, when I married my prince, I would too. I told her I wanted to marry daddy. I remember the way she laughed. I loved her laugh. She told me I couldn't marry daddy because he was her prince. That I would find my own prince someday. I remember there were gorgeous flowers on the tables and a huge cake that had as many layers as my age. I think it was eight. We ate cake, and then my dad scooped me up and danced with me."

I'll never forget dancing with my dad at that wedding. The way he twirled me around, the smile on his handsome face, how he seemed so big and strong compared to me, how I always felt safe when I was with him.

"That sounds beautiful." Phillip studies my face closely then runs his fingertip across my cheek and feels my tears. "Are you crying? You never cry. The last time I saw you cry was the night of the funeral."

I shrug my shoulders. "I try not to cry. I want my parents to be proud of me, so I have to be strong. And you've seen me cry. I cried on the beach in Cancun."

"You were drunk."

"I also cried on stage at our engagement party."

He runs his fingers through my hair. I lean closer to his neck and smell him. Phillip always smells so dreamy.

"Twice in four years." He kisses me softly and says, "You know, you don't have to be so strong. Especially with me."

He's so sweet. I feel so incredibly lucky. Really, that's what makes me feel like crying. I love him so much, and I'm still so afraid of losing him.

"You don't have to shut your emotions away. It's okay to feel sad. It doesn't make you a crybaby."

I nuzzle my face into his neck and kiss it. "I know, Phillip. I love you, and I don't care what anyone thinks about our fast engagement. I can't wait to marry you."

He leans back and smiles at me. "Do you really mean that?"

"Of course, I mean that."

"Hmm, well then maybe now would be a good time to tell you the rest of it."

"The rest of what?"

"When we move, I want us to buy a house together."

"Well, yeah, it wouldn't make much sense to get separate places."

"I also think we should be married when we buy the house."

"But that means...."

Phillip shakes his head. "Yes, that means we'd need to get married soon."

"Really soon."

"Yes," he says tentatively.

I snuggle back into his shoulder and let out a contented sigh. "Okay."

"Okay?" he asks with disbelief. "You're agreeing, just like that? No fight? No freak out?"

I kiss his shoulder then up the side of his neck. "I'm done freaking out, Phillip. Why would I freak out when I've never been happier in my life?"

Back in our room, I change into a sexy little nightie. While we're brushing our teeth, I say to him, "You know, we still haven't discussed what you're going to pay me. I'm very expensive."

He looks up and down the nightie, which is a very sheer lacy thing, as in no lady parts are being hidden, only slightly obscured. "Yeah, I figured."

"Maybe we should discuss my salary in bed?"

"Oh, no," he tells me seriously. "I never mix business with pleasure. And if you're gonna work for me, there are gonna have to be a few rules."

"Work for you? No way. I think I need to be an independent contractor or something."

"No go. You work for me, or no deal."

I put on my pouty face.

He smiles, smacks my butt, and winks at me. "Now go get in bed, and we'll discuss your career."

I'm pretty sure I can work this to my advantage.

I wake up early. Way early. My mind is reeling over all I agreed to last night. I think about how I didn't freak out. About how I know Phillip's the one. About how I'm gonna have to plan a wedding fast. About how his parents are going to be the ones to freak. How his mom is going to push me to plan the wedding the way she thinks is best. How I want to plan the most amazing, romantic wedding ever. I was serious when I said I can't wait to marry Phillip.

We're sitting in bed eating breakfast when I tell Phillip I have a few demands. "You know, I was pretty amazing about this whole change jobs, move to a new city, plan a quick wedding thing."

"I was pretty shocked about that. I really expected you to throw a fit."

"Well, I do have a stipulation."

He rolls his eyes at me. "I should've known you'd have demands."

"Not demands. Just one demand. One I'm very serious about."

He tilts his head at me and looks concerned. "Okay, what is it?"

"We aren't telling anyone about this when we get back. I'm talking NO one. Not Danny, not Lori, not your parents, NO ONE. We need some time. I'm gonna go back, quit my job, but not tell anyone. I think since we just finished that design project, they won't ask me for a two week notice. If they don't, then I'm gonna spend the week doing some wedding planning. I need to gather ideas on my own. We need to talk about things, figure out what we want. The minute we tell your parents, they're going to ask a million questions. Your mom's gonna be the one to freak. I want to have some sort of a game plan first. I want this wedding to be about us. About our relationship. I'm not going to let your mom make me do stuff. You're gonna have to stick up for us. If this week goes well, we'll tell your parents next Sunday at dinner. Can you agree to that?"

Phillip shakes his head and smiles at me. "Yeah, I'm good with that." His face gets that soft look, the look where I swear he can see straight into my soul. "You know, even though your parents are gone, they're still with you."

"Yeah, I know, and I think they're really glad I'm with you."

I bought every bridal magazine available at the airport and excitedly looked through them on the flight home. I even marked a bunch of things I thought were pretty. Phillip started out strong, but pretty soon his eyes glazed over, probably from having to endure page after page of white lace, and he was asleep.

I have no idea what I want for my wedding.

But I do know one thing. I know who I want to marry.

I can't believe I did it, but this morning, I walked into my boss's office and told him about my new job offer. As expected, he didn't ask me to give two weeks notice. He was excited for me, wished me the best, and offered the company's services for anything I needed outsourced. I cleaned out my desk, said goodbye to everyone, and was back home by noon.

I hope the rest of our plan goes this easy.

Since the main focus of most bridal magazines is the wedding gown, I figured that might be the best place to start. I call Katie and Lisa and ask them to join me. They've been advising me on what to wear since we were kids.

We meet at a bridal store, and Lisa immediately takes charge. She's running from dress to dress, screaming, giggling, basically making a fool out of herself over fabric and lace. She's ooh and aahing over dress after dress, saying, "Oh, this one. This is ah-mazing!"

Never once does she ask me what I want. Of course, she knows me. Knows I probably don't have a clue. Which is probably a good thing because after seeing all the dresses in the magazines, how do you ever pick one? You could try on dresses for years.

I sit down next to Katie. "How did you decide which dress to buy?"

"I think it's kind of like choosing your husband. You keep trying them on until one seems right."

"We may need cocktails for that," I joke.

Katie laughs then whispers to me, "Lisa dreams of a huge ball gown. You know that's what she's gonna make you try on. I made the mistake of taking Eric's sister shopping with me. She was mad we were getting married before her, and I think she wanted me to look bad. My suggestion is to try on a dress of each silhouette. See what looks good on your figure, and then try on those types of dresses."