Текст книги "That Wedding"

Автор книги: Jillian Dodd

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

This past weekend, Lori gave me a book that was written by both a mom and daughter about planning the daughter's wedding. She thought it would give me some insight as to what my mom would have been thinking and feeling if she were here with me now.

But I got more out of the book than I expected.

I realized that I've been kinda selfish. This wedding is not just about me and Phillip. It's really the merging together of families, and those families have dreams of their own.

So if you're planning a wedding someday, here's my advice to you.

And notice that I'm giving this advice before I put my plan into action, so that way if this all ends up with me screaming in a bathroom, What the hell was I thinking, you will do it regardless of my outcome.

I thought back to when we were doing the guest list. Mrs. Mac asked me a question about our plans, and I sort of shut her down and told her that we'd tell her when we figured it out. Like she was just a guest. I realized that Phillip's mom has probably been both dreaming about and dreading the day her precious son will get married. She's inviting her friends, and I'm sure she has something pictured in her mind about how it should be.

So now that Phillip and I have a lot of the basics planned out, I've decided to ask the other important people in my life what they'd like to see happen at the wedding, or their dream way of having it.

Who knows, they may have some amazing ideas.

This morning, I met Phillip's mom at the Diamond's for Mrs. D's wonderful cinnamon coffee cake.

I took my idea board and inspiration powerpoint. I told them about all the food Phillip and I picked out, about the rooftop ballroom, and how I wanted it to be romantic. I also told them that Phillip has had about all the wedding planning he can take. He wanted a say in the things that were important to him, like food and alcohol, but the rest is just fluff to him. I invited them to come to Kansas City with me on Thursday to meet the wedding planner and help me with the rest of the decor details. I still have to pick the flowers, the cake design, and finalize all the reception decor. They were especially thrilled when I set a stack of bridal magazines in front of them and told them to go crazy.

After that, I go in the study to talk to Mr. D.

I ask for his opinion. Ask if there's anything he'd like to see happen at the wedding.

He thinks about it for a minute. "I know alcohol is one of the most expensive parts of a wedding, but it would be nice if there was a secret stash of good scotch for us old guys to enjoy. I'd also love to smoke a cigar in your dad's honor."

Phillip had mentioned that a scotch and cigar bar would be so cool. Plus, I'm getting him an engraved humidor as his wedding gift, so it would be perfect.

And then it hits me. I never asked Mr. Diamond to walk me down the aisle. I was gonna ask him the night he told me he was holding my wedding money hostage. I've been a little mad at him since, honestly.

But I look at him. The man who's helped me though every major crisis, from financial to what to major in. Who has gently guided me down the path to adulthood. Who has done way more than I'm sure my parents ever imagined he would when they named him executor of my trust. He treats me like his daughter. And he wants to toast my dad at my wedding?

He sees that my eyes are filling up with tears and says, "Honey, I'm sorry. I didn't want to upset you. I know it's very hard on you not having him here. Maybe it's a bad idea."

"You didn't upset me. I think it's a wonderful idea. I got tears in my eyes because I have a big favor to ask you, and it seems like I all I ever do is ask you for favors."

"Don't be silly," he says. "I loved your parents, and you know you're like a daughter to me. I'll always do anything in my power to help you in whatever way you need."

I smile at him through crocodile tears. "So does that mean you'd consider walking me down the aisle? Standing in for my dad?"

He sits there for a minute, which I have to say I appreciate. He understands the gravity of this to me. He's even a little choked up when he replies, "I'd be extremely honored."

Phillip walks in the door with beer under his arm and a magazine in his hand. "Look, I found a wedding magazine we haven't looked at yet! This one looks cool too. It has spreads on real weddings."

We sit at the kitchen table, drink a beer, and flip through the pages. We're halfway through when Phillip stumbles upon an idea that hits his hot button.

"Look at this!! They had custom Nikes made as gifts for the groomsmen! Look, they put their names and the wedding date on the shoes too. That is THE coolest wedding thing I have ever seen! I'm doing them. We'll do black shoes with a dark purple swoosh!"

Phillip is really excited, and I don't want to like burst his bubble or anything, but tennis shoes at a formal wedding? With tuxedos?

Um, no.

No freaking way.

"Uh, Phillip, our wedding is formal. I don't think you can wear Nikes."

He raises his eyebrows and gives me a little smirk. "It's my wedding. I can do whatever I want. Plus, you got purple shoes. You showed me them."

"Phillip, I got purple satin Badgley Mischka heels with crystal detailing. They aren't black leather Nike tennis shoes. I don't know about this, Phillip. I'd need some convincing."

He looks at me for a beat then strips off his shirt.

Which totally make me laugh. "That's not the kind of convincing I meant, Phillip. Look at these pictures. Their wedding was outside, and they're wearing khakis. It was very informal."

"I don't care. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging me to wear these shoes."

I'll admit, Phillip with no shirt is already pretty convincing, but I say, "I see you shirtless every day. I don't think that's gonna do it."

He picks me up and moves me to the couch. Takes off my sweater. Kisses my entire upper half.

Every. single. inch.

My collar bone, down my arms, my neck, my chest, my stomach. When he gets to my stomach, I'm about to tell him he can have whatever he wants, please just take off my skirt.

He takes off my shoes instead. He gently massages my feet, kisses up my legs, and then finally pulls off my skirt.

And he's right.

I'm pretty sure I'll be letting him wear whatever shoes he wants.

When I watched the show My Fair Wedding, the thing that struck me most about the episodes was not how beautifully the weddings turned out. What struck me was how you watched each bride grow up in front of your eyes. The process seemed to give them all a kind of bridal confidence, and I feel like I've sorta gotten my own bridal confidence. At first, I was just plain freaked out by the whole thing. When I first started planning, I wanted total and complete control. Then I realized I couldn't do it by myself, but I still held tight, only allowing Phillip, Lori, and Amy into my wedding planning world.

Now that I've given up control, I realize that you can't do it yourself, and you shouldn't try.

Mrs. D said something on the drive down about how happy she is to be helping because she didn't get to help plan any of Danny's wedding. So needless to say, both her and Mrs. Mac are brimming with excitement. When I watch them hug Amy, their new best friend, I think I just grew up a little more. I don't have my parents here, but I do have some very special people in my life.

And I'm gonna start celebrating that.

They had some great ideas that we incorporated into the wedding plans. We planned out the weekend's events, starting with a welcome basket in each room and ending with a farewell brunch on Sunday. Mrs. Mac had great ideas about what to put in the baskets. My only real contribution was that I wanted some chocolate included.

Big surprise.

And Mrs. D hit it out of the park. She recommended having chilled buckets of beer waiting for the guests upon check in.

I'm pretty sure our friends are gonna go crazy over that type of welcome.

We got to play around with place settings and decided on deep purple glass chargers, deep purple water goblets, clear champagne glasses with silver trim, white dinner plates, and an adorable multicolored salad plate. On top of all that is an icy purple napkin. When Amy handed me a princess crown napkin ring that was Phillip's idea, I almost cried.

Everything went well until they completely disagreed with me about the one thing I'm most looking forward to. Phillip and I decided to meet in private before the wedding. When he sees me in my dress for the first time, it will be just the two of us and a photographer.

Mrs. Mac says, "JJ! He can't see you before the wedding. It's BAD LUCK!"

Mrs. D agrees. "Plus, you're getting married on the thirteenth."

"Phillip and I want to have some private moments on our wedding day. If he sees my dress as I'm walking down the aisle, I won't get to talk to him. I want to hear what he thinks. Then we're gonna go take photos in front of our fountain."

They're both shaking their heads at me when Amy says, "You know, if we do most of the photos before the ceremony, that means we all get to enjoy the cocktail hour. Otherwise, the guests will enjoy it while you take photos."

Neither one of them want to miss a second of the cocktail hour, so Mrs. Mac finally says, "Well, if you make it special, it'll probably be okay."

"I'm so excited about Phillip seeing my dress in private. Instead of worrying about walking down the aisle and not tripping, I'll be able to focus on him, to remember what he looks like the moment he sees me. I wanna take his breath away."

Mrs. D gushes, "Oh, JJ, the way you talk about it makes it sound so much more romantic. I wish I could've done that when I got married."

"While we're on this subject of walking down the aisle," Mrs. Mac says. "I wanted to ask if you'd mind if Phillip escorted Doug and I. Traditionally, an usher would escort me down the aisle. Doug would follow behind, and then we would be seated. Phillip and his best man would be standing at the altar already. I was at a wedding recently where the groom seated his parents. I thought it was really special, but I don't want to upset you."

"Why would that upset me?"

Mrs. Mac looks at me with real concern. "Because your parents aren't here to walk with you, and from what Phillip said, you're walking down the aisle by yourself."

"I thought about walking by myself, like as a way to honor my parents, but I changed my mind. I asked a special man in my life to give me away."

Mrs. D's eyes flood with tears. She turns to Mrs. Mac and says, "She asked Chuck."

I drop the moms off then head home. When I walk in my condo, the lights are dimmed, my mom's crystal candlesticks are holding dark purple tapers, the table is set, and I can smell Italian food.

Phillip takes my coat, kisses me, leads me over to the table, and pulls out a chair for me.

"What's all this for?" I ask.

"This is a big thank you for including my mom. She called me before you guys headed back home and said it was one of the best days she's ever had. She's very excited for our wedding and very happy that you included her." He pours us champagne then says a toast. "In exactly two months from today, we'll be on our honeymoon."

"That's a good reason to celebrate, and I'm glad I invited them. Her and Mrs. D had some great ideas for everything from the welcome gifts to the reception. They adored Amy, loved tasting the cake, and we had a lot of fun."

Phillip takes my flute and sits it on the table. "You know, I think maybe dinner can wait." He takes my hand and leads me into the bedroom, where there are even more candles lit.

He strips off my clothes and massages my entire body with an amazing smelling lavender body oil. I could care less about dinner. All I want is him.

"I'm gonna be nicer to your mom more often. I'm just saying."

Phillip and I stop by his parents' before heading to Neil's to watch the Husker game. I'm updating Mrs. Mac on a few wedding details when she lets out a big sigh. "I still haven't found a dress. Ashley and I have gone shopping a lot, but I just can't seem to find anything. The wedding is going to be so pretty and romantic. Is it bad that I don't want to look like the mother of the groom?"

"What do you mean?"

She frowns. "I know I'm the mother of the groom, but I don't want to look old. All the dresses Ash likes, I've felt like my mother."

"Ashley doesn't have a whole lot of patience either. I'm sure she gets mad at you when she likes something, and you don't."

"Exactly. I let her pick out the dress I wore to her wedding, and I hated that thing. I looked like a banana."

We laugh. Ashley's wedding was very yellow.

"Let's go shopping today," I suggest.

"But the Husker game is on soon, and I thought you had a party to go to?"

"Even better," I sort of shock myself by saying. "That means the stores won't be crowded. And we see Neil all the time. It won't kill us to miss it."

Somehow, possibly a miracle sent down from God himself, I'm able to convince Phillip and Mr. Mac that they need to skip watching the game and come with us.

That it's important.

Mrs. Mac sweetened the deal when she promised to record the game and make her gorgonzola stuffed burgers with mushroom wine sauce for dinner. Who could refuse that?

Mrs. Mac and Ashely have been shopping in bridal stores, looking at typical mother-of-the-groom dresses. I suggested we look at holiday dresses instead. Phillip whined and said he couldn't shop on an empty stomach, so we headed to an upscale mall and had lunch first. We even had wine. I joked and told Phillip since he was whining, he needed wine.

As we walk out of the restaurant and head toward the dress shop, Phillip says, "Hey, do you mind if Dad and I go to the jewelry store while you try on dresses?"

I was ready to lay into Phillip because the whole point of this shopping trip is to find his mom a dress and not sneak off to the jewelry store, where they're probably hoping to find a TV.

Phillip's mom looks at me, sees I'm about it blow, and says happily, "That sounds like a plan. We'll text you when we find something."

She makes a beeline to the dress shop, so I follow along. When we get out of earshot of the guys, she grabs my arm. "JJ, you never, EVER, tell your man NOT to go in a jewelry store. Seriously."

And I realize she probably has a point.

We go to a great little boutique that's fully stocked with holiday dresses, so we have a lot of nice dresses to choose from.

"Do you have a preference as to what color I wear?" she asks.

"What do you think would look good?"

"Well, I showed my friends a picture of the bridesmaids dresses and told them your colors. They thought either silver, light purple, dark purple, or black."

"Hmm, I love black dresses, but I'm afraid you'd blend in with the boys. Your son is getting married. I think you should stand out."

With that remark, I make her cry. "I'm so lucky to be getting you for a daughter-in-law," she tells me while wiping the corners of her eyes.

With our criteria in mind, we enlist the salesperson's help and find six dresses for her to try on, but kinda like with my dress, one just stands out.

The dress is a gorgeous deep purple color. It's strapless with an empire waist, and the skirt flows perfectly over her curves. The bodice sparkles with matching purple beading, and the color looks beautiful with her complexion. Phillip's mom is looking hot, honestly, in this dress.

She loves it. She's grinning, holding the skirt, and twirling around. "Do you think I'm too old to wear a dress like this? Everything Ashley and I tried on at the bridal store looked much more matronly. I'm the mother, can I wear a dress that looks like I belong in a nightclub singing?" But then she's like, "But look at the way it twirls when I dance, and it's surprisingly lightweight even with the beading. What do you think?"

"You haven't tried them all on yet, but this is my favorite. You look gorgeous, and I don't think you should look matronly. You certainly don't look old enough to have a son who's getting married."

"You just sold me," she giggles. "But this is fun. I think I'll try on the rest."

"Let me take pic of you and send it to Mrs. D, so we can get her opinion."

I take a pic of her and send it off. She's in a silver sequined gown that's so heavy she can hardly walk when Mrs. D texts back, LOVE IT!!

She tries on the other dresses then puts the purple one back on. I text Phillip to come look at it.

Phillip says, "Damn, Mom, are you sure that dress isn't too sexy?"

Mrs. Mac blushes, and I could've sworn I saw Mr. Mac slide him a twenty.

After she buys the dress, Phillip says, "Hey, we haven't registered yet, and they have great dishes. Wanna go register? We also need to look at wedding bands."

I've been dreading registering because Lori told me I needed to picture what kind of dishes I would want to serve my children holiday dinners on. What dishes I want to feed Phillip a lovingly made dinner from every night. What color my kitchen would be, so my mixer would match.

Registering felt like an overwhelming task, but it wasn't.

We walked in, looked at the fine china patterns, looked at each other, and said, "That one." Then we picked out flatware, and Phillip's dad picked out a stemware pattern that I love. It's gorgeous heavy crystal, but the glass is cut in a modern way.

Phillip's mom showed us the items that she loves to use when entertaining, and those things that are too much of a hassle to deal with. Like real silver. Yes, it's shiny and gorgey in the store, but who has time to deal with it?

And instead of registering being a chore, it was a breeze. I think Phillip and I were just overwhelmed with all of the possibilities and here, with their help, all the picks we made, made sense. She even suggested we register for a few holiday pieces. She said people will love knowing we'll use them every year.

When we were done, Phillip took me over to look at wedding bands. I was a bit overwhelmed by all the sparkle in the case, but I didn't see one that was slightly curved like my ring. "I don't think any of these will fit my ring. I don't really need a wedding band, Phillip. My engagement ring is enough."

"No way, Princess. You're not getting out of wearing a wedding band that easy. I want everyone to know you're married." He touches my ring finger. "I also heard you talking to Lori about what kind of band you thought would look pretty, so I had one made. We snuck over here earlier to see if it was finished. Wanna see it?"

I have to control myself not to jump up and down in the middle of the store and scream, Of course, I wanna see it!!!

A salesperson brings out a box and sets it in front of me. I slowly open the lid.

"Holy shit!" I say loudly. Everyone in the store turns to stare at me.

I lower my head and say breathlessly, "Phillip, it's gorgeous."

My engagement ring has an X on each side that's filled with baguette diamonds. The wedding band has three rows of the same baguettes. I take my engagement ring off, so I can try it on.

Phillip slides the band on my finger. "Just think, the next time I put this ring on your finger, we'll be saying our vows. What do you think about writing our own vows?"

I'm pretty sure I'd agree to just about anything right now. Vows, murder, cheating, armed robbery, yeah, whatever, I'm in.

I hold the ring up, watch it sparkle in the lights, and then put my engagement ring on top of it. "Sure, Phillip. Vows, yeah, we can do that." I look at my hand some more. "Wow, this is pretty amazing."

"I think you're just easy to impress with a little bling."

He gives me a sweet kiss on the cheek while I think, This is a hell of a lot more than a little bling.

I decide to take a lesson from Mrs. Mac and not say a word. Because if he wants to think this is a little bling, I can't imagine the day he tries to impress me with some big bling.

We're worn out from our annual Thanksgiving football game and stuffed from Thanksgiving dinner, but we headed to the bar to meet up with our friends. It's become a tradition too.

Danny and Lori are in town, so they joined us.

I ask Lori, "Have you thought of any baby names yet?"

"A few. I kinda like Sloan or Carly for a girl. And we've been thinking about some meaningful names. Like Hayden Fry was a great football coach, so Danny thought Hayden might be cool for a boy. I don't know that much about football, so I suggested Madden."

"I love that name!"

"I do too, but he thought it was hilarious that the only name I knew was from an Xbox game. Of course, he idolizes Tom Osborne, the great Husker coach, but I don't care for either Tom or Osborne as a first name. Danny thought Osborne Diamond sounded super awesome. I didn't mind that until he told me he'd call the kid Ozzy. Um, no. I don't think so."

Phillip, who's been drinking all day and is a little tipsy, says sillily, "I know! You could name your daughter Carat. Get it? Carat Diamond."

Katie and Lisa both say at the same time, "Hope! What about Hope Diamond?"

I didn't partake in the drinking today.

I know, shocker, right?

I didn't drink earlier because I'm so competitive when it comes to the annual football game. Then after the game, when I was stuffing myself with turkey and all sorts of other goodies, I kept drinking water. I'm hoping the water will absorb some of the hundred million calories I consumed and will quickly flush them out of my body. I want to make sure my wedding dress fits!!

Phillip's doing shots with the boys, so I'm being responsible and am just sipping on a martini. I wanted a raspberry martini, but Lori made me get a cosmopolitan just so she could smell it. After a few minutes of her sniffing my drink, I begged the bartender for a nonalcoholic version. Now she's torn between loving the feel of the martini glass in her hand and being horrified that people will think she's drinking alcohol.

She rolls her eyes at Phillip's suggestion of Carat Diamond and continues our conversation. "I think Damon is my favorite for a boy."

"Damon Diamond. I like that."

"Another Big D," Joey says, slapping Danny on the back.

"Really, it should be Double D," I stupidly say. It causes all the guys to hoot and holler.

What is it about boys and boobs?

Neil yells, "Double D! Aw yeah, baby. Gotta love those. You should definitely pick a D name for your daughter. Lori's got big cans, maybe your daughter will too."

All the guys laugh and start coming up with D names. They throw out Darcy, Daisy, Daniella, and Dani."

Danny says, "We can't give a girl the same name as me, that would be dumb. I do think Destiny would be kinda cute though."

Joey giggles. "Destiny Diamond. That totally sounds like a stripper name. That'd be so hot."

"You know, I've kinda been freaking out over being a father, but then I read in a men's magazine somewhere that as long as you can keep your son off the pipe and your daughter off the pole, that you've done a good job."

Lori is sitting next to me. She hasn't moved an inch, but I swear, I just felt the earth shift. Like she's a volcano waiting to blow.

She gives Danny the evilest stare I've ever seen. Way worse than the death stare she gave me at her candle passing. And that almost killed me.

Danny is kinda drunk, and he's having fun, goofing around. I don't think he realizes that this is in no way funny to Lori.

She grabs his hand across the table to get his attention and says madly, "I've been puking daily, listening to classical music that I hate, and drinking only organic juices. I haven't had a cup of coffee, a diet coke, or a beer in months. I've painted the nursery with nontoxic paint, so the baby won't get cancer, and bought baby Einstein toys. And you mean to tell me, your only goal for our child is to not be a stripper or a drug addict?"

"We're just messing around, having fun. Relax, Lori," Danny says.

She pulls her hand away from him. "You're right. That's exactly what I need to do." She says, "Excuse me," to the table and slides out of her chair.

Her and her baby bump make their way up to the bar. A few minutes later, she comes back with two shots of tequila and a pack of cigarettes.

She's about to make a point, I think.

Danny and the boys are still enjoying the baby name game. Danny's laughing hysterically about another stripper name.

Neil says, "How bout Dakota Diamond? She could wear a cowboy hat, boots, and a rhinestone thong."

The guys all laugh hysterically. Phillip is wiping tears from his eyes. The only time Phillip laughs so much he cries is when he's drunk.

I watch Lori open the pack of cigarettes, take one out, put it in her mouth, and light it.

She takes a pretend drag, slides a shot glass in front of me, and says loudly, "To my future child."

I hold my shot glass in the air while I kick Danny under the table.

He looks at Lori in horror and grabs the shot glass away from her. "What the hell are you doing?"

Her voice is surprisingly calm as she says, "Why should I make all these sacrifices for our child when your expectations are so low?"

"We're just teasing. I have goals for our child. Big goals. And I'm so proud of all you've done. I'm sorry, baby."

What a suck up.

Lori seems to be appeased though. She smashes out the cigarette, moves the ashtray as far away as she can, and then announces that she has to pee.

When she's safely in the bathroom, Danny turns to me, clinks the shot glass against mine, and downs the shot. Then he takes mine and downs it too.

Somehow, I don't think it will be his last of the pregnancy.

"This isn't going to be easy, is it?" he asks.

I just smile at him because I really don't have an answer.