That Wedding (36 page)

Our amazing Kansas City strip steaks are being delivered. For some reason, we decided it would be very cool to have the steaks carved like an ice sculpture. The steaks are somehow standing on end, and they've been carved to look like a crocodile. Now you would think this might look a little scary, but at the time we picked it out, Phillip and I thought it was adorable because it looked like the crocodile was smiling at us and wishing us a happy life. He was a cute crocodile, like the one from Peter Pan.

But just as our guests are oohing and aahing over our creativeness and how real they look, the crocs come to life, jump up out of the wedding plates, and start to eat up all our guests. One by one, I watch my guests get swallowed up by their crocodile steaks. I start to scream!

Phillip wakes me up.

I tell him about my horrible dream. "What do you think it means?"

"Maybe you're afraid no one will come to the wedding. That we won't have any guests."

"No, that can't be it. These people were already at the reception, and who comes to the wedding and skips the reception? I mean, the reception is the best part."

"People that don't wanna get eaten by a crocodile, perhaps?"

"Smart ass. Well all I know is, I'm not getting the steak."

"I guess I might have to agree with that. Maybe we should call Amy in the morning and go with the filet medallions instead."

I look at Phillip. He has pillow head, and the side of his cheek has red lines across it from where he was sleeping on his hand. I grin at him and move my hands under the sheets. "You know, I think I'm so scared, I might not be able to go back to sleep. You might have to distract me."

He pulls me closer to him as I run my hands down his abs. "How am I supposed to do that?"

I press my lips against his yummy smelling neck, graze my tongue down the side of it, and rub my hand between his legs. "I bet you can think of something."

We're in New York, and Lori is quite prepared with a car to drive us around and a list of stores for us check out. She says, "Jade, if you can't find a dress here, you're doomed."

"Nothing like a little bit of pressure to start my day," I mutter back.

"You didn't get coffee yet, did you? You're always cranky without coffee. Did you eat breakfast?"

"Um, no." She sighs at me. "Don't give me that sigh. I'm going to try on wedding dresses! I needed to look perfect, so I spent a lot of time getting ready." I lean over and whisper in her ear, so the mom's can't hear. "Plus, Phillip would NOT let me out of bed. He's insatiable."

Lori giggles with me then asks the driver to stop at the next coffee shop. She comes back with a latte and a chocolate chip scone for me. I'm happily sipping coffee and thinking about how Phillip looked when I left this morning. All those sexy muscles lying there naked, twisted up sheets down by his feet. The way his eyes sparkled when he spoke. How I can't even remember what he said because I kept thinking how I just wanted to take my clothes off and pounce back on top of him. I think about what I would've done. How I would've run my hands across his broad shoulders. How I love the way his abs feel in my hands. How muscular his butt feels when he's.........

His mom interrupts my thoughts by shoving a file folder in front of me. Mrs. Diamond tells me they clipped out some photos of dresses they thought I should try on.

I thank them and flip through the photos, not really looking at them. My mind is back to sexy places.

We went to a few boutique stores. I tried on some dresses, but nothing wowed us.

Around noon, I'm introduced to a bridal consultant named Hillary. She's short, blonde, and extremely peppy. I like her enthusiasm right away.

Hillary says, "I'm going to steal the bride away for a little while. Enjoy some champagne, and we'll be back out looking like a bride."

Hillary leads me back to a dressing room, where we sit down. "So tell me about the groom."

"His name is Phillip Mackenzie, and I've known him my whole life. He was my best friend growing up, my college roommate, and we got engaged a couple months ago on our first date."

"Wow, really? I've never met anyone that got engaged on their first date. So how about your budget?"

I tell her my dress budget. She nods and says, "Have you tried on any dresses?"

"I've tried on about thirty."

"And have you liked any of them? Do you have pictures of dresses you like?"

"I have a stack that people think I should try on. I don't want to waste our time though. I know that none of them are the one."

"Okay, why don't you tell me what you liked or didn't like about the dresses you've tried on."

"I hate hoop skirts. I don't want anything heavy. I wanna be able to move."

"Got it. Now describe to me how you want to look on your wedding day."

"No one has asked me that question before."

"Well, I'm going to help you find the perfect dress. It's my job to ask the right questions."

I think about how I want to look. "I wanna look timeless. I want my daughter to look back at my dress twenty years from now and not know when I got married. I kinda want to look like Grace Kelly. Not her wedding gown, that was too lacy. More like the fifties classic strapless dresses. But no, that's not really right either because I don't want to look dated. I definitely want strapless. I want the dress to be soft and light, so I can move around in it. I thought I wanted something very tailored and plain, but when I try on dresses like that, they don't seem dressy enough, so I think I need a little bling. I know most brides probably come in and know exactly what they want. Like they want to look a certain way, but all I want is for Phillip to think I look amazing. I did try on a dress of each silhouette. Everyone thinks I look best in a strapless mermaid style. I sort of feel like a bridal failure."

"You're not a failure. You just haven't found the right dress yet. You've told me a lot about what you want and don't want. I'm going to pull a few dresses. Be right back," she says in a very chipper voice.

I say a silent prayer that Hillary can figure me out.

That today I will find my dress.

While I'm waiting, my phone buzzes. I pull it out of my purse.

Following is a photo of a woman that you'd assume is a bride, since she's wearing a veil and dressed in all white. I'd say she's probably a very naughty bride. She has on a white lace corset, sheer lace thong, fishnet thigh highs, and patent leather platform heels.
Only the classiest shoes for this bride
. Over all of this is a sheer robe. The robe is sporting a feather collar, or maybe it's a white boa, I'm not sure. She also has extremely big hair, bright red lipstick, and a cherry halfway in her mouth. Maybe that's a new wedding dessert I should consider.

Ha!

Hillary walks back in the room with four dresses. There must be something about having a complete stranger see you practically naked that makes you feel like you can talk to her about anything. While she's getting me all done up, I find myself telling her that it's kinda hard for me to be picking out a dress without my mom. I tell her how my mom loved bling and how I used to fight against it, but the older I get, the more I don't mind just a little bit of sparkle. For some reason, it makes me feel more like her.

The first dress she puts me in is actually quite pretty. I know for sure, it's not THE dress, but it's probably the first one that I don't dislike. It's a strapless mermaid style dress. It has just a bit of bling across the waistline, but the rest of it is pretty plain. Like the simplicity of the design is what makes it gorgeous.

I show Lori and the moms.

"This isn't the one," I say, "but it's very pretty, don't you think?"

Lori loves me in strapless, and the moms love the mermaid style. Maybe we're getting somewhere. Maybe today I will find a dress.

Eight gowns later.

Hillary knows more about me than my best friends. Not only have I told her about my parents, but I told her how we were going to have a long engagement, but moved it up. How the wedding is going to be romantic. How the date magically fell into place. How it's the day after my parents' anniversary. How I feel like they gave me a wedding gift.

I tell her about the ballroom, the candlelight, and the food.

When she goes to grab more dresses, I'm embarrassed to realize that I've been totally spilling my guts to her.

We've tried on beautiful dresses, but none of them are right. I'm starting to feel like a failure again. And I'm not the only one that's feeling that way. Hillary doesn't seem as chipper. Lori and the moms are starting to look bored and frustrated with me. They've loved quite a few of the dresses, and I'm pretty sure they think I'm nuts.

Naked is starting to sound better and better. Maybe I could just buy a veil and have one of those artists come paint my body white.

Ha! If the Chiefs make the playoffs, I could leave the paint on, add some red and yellow, and go to the game! I'd probably get on TV. Like if I didn't get arrested first.

Hillary is a very patient trooper though, and she comes back in with four more dresses. She's just about to put me in another dress, I already know I'm going to reject, when my cell rings. I had left my phone sitting on the chair, so I can see that it's Phillip calling me.