A Wedding in Truhart (5 page)

“What?” asked June. “You will make such an impression coming down the grand stairway at the club. Honestly, Charlotte, they'll be talking about it for years to come.”

“Yes, but it's really out of my price range.” She told us the price and I was the only one who looked shocked.

“Oh, honey,” said the sales attendant. “Believe me, everyone thinks they can't afford the dress. But remember, you only get married once . . . Well, I got married four times, but who's counting?” She laughed at her own joke and looked nervously at the camera.

“You know, honey, we all want this wedding to be perfect for you. I am sure your family and I can work something out to make this happen.” June looked at me for support. She got no response on my end. I didn't have the financial authority to make this decision. The dress cost more than the total budget my mother had already figured out for the whole wedding.

“No. I told you, June, Henry and I are both working. We want to handle a lot of the costs ourselves.”

Scarlett laughed. “Oh, you kids! You're so practical these days.” She looked at the camera and leaned forward. “In my day we knew how to enjoy each moment. God, I would have never bought anything or taken a risk if I thought I had to
afford
it first.”

June and Scarlett nodded to each other. Everyone started talking at once. Except me and Charlotte. She caught my eye in the mirror. Was she pleased? I couldn't tell.

Charlotte had never been a fussy dresser. Maybe it was our Midwestern roots, but we had always shared a similar taste for simple styles. A little black dress that looked nice on most people was divine on Charlotte. She would do nothing more than twist her hair in a graceful chignon and add a pair of chic earrings and heads would turn. It was her trademark. For all the glitz and glamour of this magnificent dress, the first dress was simply Charlotte. Sadly, I was the only one in the room who felt that way.

It took me a moment to realize that the camera had cut away and was focused on me.

“Well, Annie? What do you think?” Charlotte asked.

Why did I have to be featured in this decision? I didn't want the responsibility. I felt like a jury foreman who had been told to make the life-or-death decision on the fate of the favorite local son.

The room grew quiet and I saw the camera cut away to Charlotte and back to me.

“It is very beautiful . . . and so is the first dress . . . it was so simple and elegant.” I could feel my face turning warmer under the glare of the other women. “Of course this dress is so detailed and umm . . . well, fancy . . . I can't imagine the number of hours that were put into making it.” I was blabbering like an idiot. I looked at everyone as they leaned forward in their chairs and at Charlotte, who seemed so unsure. Was she just looking for my approval?

I curved my lips into a smile and hoped my nose didn't grow longer. “But, if this is the one you like the best, you should get it.”

The other ladies exhaled an audible group sigh. Charlotte glanced back in the mirror and smiled tentatively.

“Well, I know Henry is going to love it! You will be everything a man dreams of in a bride,” said June with a confidence that put me to shame.

Charlotte's eyes lit up and I knew the moment she made the decision. Her tongue touched her top lip just like it used to when she was a little girl deciding on her favorite ice cream flavor at the Dairy Cow.

“Yes, I think I'll take it.”

“W
hy don't you just drop us off at the Fifth?” Charlotte asked

June when we climbed back in the limousine.

I had no idea what
the Fifth
was. And it was the last thing I cared about right now. We had stayed at Bellasposa for an hour, waiting for Charlotte to work out fitting details for her dress and to wrap up a few shots with the camera crew. After calling to make sure my mother and Aunt Addie were on the mend, I spent the time trying to reconcile the Charlotte I knew and this stranger she had become. She seemed dependent on everyone else's opinion, especially June Lowell's.

“The Fifth is Nick's apartment building. Henry is over at Nick's watching baseball,” Charlotte explained. “He invited us to come over after we finished this afternoon. Is it okay with you? I know Nick would love to see you.” The mention of Nick made my heart miss a beat.

Oh, this was just perfect. After the scene at the bridal salon, I would probably do my usual foot-in-mouth routine and make an idiot of myself when I was around him. Hopefully there would be no breakable crystal or hornet's nests.

“Can I come too?” asked Jessica. She perked up at the mention of her older brother.

“No, Jessica. You don't need to pester everyone,” June said.

“It's not a problem, June. Really. Jessica can hang out with us girls while the guys watch their baseball.” Charlotte put a hand on Jessica's shoulder and was immediately rejected as the girl squirmed away.

“I like baseball!” insisted Jessica.

“Well, all right. But have Henry make sure Jessica is home before eight. We have guests coming for dinner tonight and, Jessica, you promised to play piano for us.”

Jessica rolled her eyes and dropped her head back against the seat. “I don't want to play the stupid piano for your friends.”

“I told the Frasers that you would play for them, dear. We wouldn't want to disappoint them, would we?”

“Mom, I hate it when you do that.” Jessica rolled her eyes and stared at the ceiling of the limousine.

I couldn't decide if I should feel sorry for Jessica or not. Sensing my gaze upon her, Jessica turned her head and our eyes met. For a split second I could see the pain of a teenager reflected in her gaze, then she made a huffing sound in her throat and looked out the window, ignoring the conversation in the car the rest of the way.

The limousine dropped us off on the sidewalk in front of a towering high-rise made of glass and steel. This was where Nick lived? As Charlotte and June arranged a ride home for Jessica, I craned my neck to see the top of the building. The neighboring high-rises cast strange shadows across the façade, and I had to shade my eyes from the glare of the sun against the glass.

When we entered the gaping lobby a man behind the desk recognized Charlotte and waved. We walked past endless walls of gray granite toward a bank of stainless steel elevator doors. I tried to shake off my mood. A dull ache had started behind my eyes. I was just tired, I kept telling myself.

The three of us were quiet as we waited for elevator doors to open. When they finally did, we entered and I retreated to the corner with my back against the wall and drew in a deep breath.

“So . . . you okay, Annie?” Charlotte asked.

I paused for a moment. Then I answered very slowly, “I'm okay, Charlotte . . . and you?” It was a simple question, and I wasn't sure she understood all the meaning I had put into it.

“I'm great,” she said, turning her eyes to the numbers above the elevator door.

Finally we stopped on the twenty-sixth floor. I walked off the elevator first and paused in the long, dark hallway.

“Why don't you go on in; we'll be there in a moment,” I said, turning to Jessica. Jessica looked at us with sudden interest. After a moment, she reluctantly slouched away and I made sure she was out of earshot before I turned to Charlotte.

“Charlotte, I had no idea there were going to be cameras. I am surprised you made today a TV show,” I blurted out.

“It was only a last-minute idea. And it's not like the wedding is actually going to be a TV show, Annie. Just a segment on
The Morning Show
. Our ratings were slipping a little and Scarlett thought this might get us some viewer interest. It's harmless really,” she added. “She thought it would make a great story about the trials and tribulations of getting ready for a wedding. And according to the surveys, our female audience relates to me.”

I wanted to say that most women weren't going to relate to someone who bought a dress that cost as much as a small car. But I took a breath and pointed out, “You have always said you planned on preserving your privacy if you made it big. I never thought you would take your once-in-a-lifetime chance to shop for a wedding dress and let America in.”

“Oh, come on, Annie. It's no big deal.”

“What comes next, TV cameras at the wedding?”

Her eyes widened and she backed up until her shoulders hit the wall.

“Oh, Charlotte! Tell me you aren't going to make your wedding the story featured in the eight o'clock segment!”

“No. I wouldn't do that.”

I had said too much. I could see tears forming in her eyes and a tremble in her lips. Charlotte looked like I had run her over with a tractor instead of a few words.

“You don't understand. It has been really hard . . .”

I hadn't seen her tears in years. Not since Dad died. I took a deep breath. Suddenly I felt ashamed of myself. It was obvious this wedding was stressing her out. And here I was, adding to it. I put my hand on her arm. “Listen, honey, I didn't mean to upset you . . . I am so sorry. I was just worried.”

“Why are you worried? I'm marrying the man of my dreams. Don't you like Henry?”

“Henry's great!” I didn't need to lie about that.

She started to say something, then stopped and took a deep breath. “You know . . . it's just hard to plan a wedding.”

I placed my hands on her shoulders and looked into her soggy eyes. We never argued and I didn't want to start now. I pulled her close and hugged her.

“I'm not having the wedding on TV,” she mumbled against my shoulder.

“I'm sorry. I didn't sleep all that well last night and I wasn't expecting to be videotaped this afternoon.”

“You don't like the dress, do you?”

I looked over her head at the wall behind her, trying to keep my voice calm. “I love your dress . . .”

“No you don't,” she said, pulling out of my arms so she could see my face.

I put my hand under her chin. “Listen to me, honey, I am telling you the truth. That is one of the most beautiful dresses I have ever seen.”

Her lips formed a tentative smile. “Really?”

“Yes.” I didn't add that it swallowed her up like a marshmallow. If she loved it, well then, that was all that mattered.

With our arms around each other we walked to the door of Nick's apartment. Jessica had left it cracked open and we could hear the baseball game on TV. Stepping inside, we moved slowly down a long foyer with bleached wood floors and bare gray walls that made me feel like we were in an empty exhibit at the New York Museum of Modern Art. I followed Charlotte as she turned the corner into a huge open space and for a moment I just stared.

Henry, Jessica, and several men sat on a white leather sectional that took up the middle of the room. I didn't see Nick.

Henry spotted us and jumped up. He walked over to hug both of us.

“I hope you had a great time shopping for a dress. Of course, you would look great in a potato sack,” he said, putting his arm around Charlotte. He rubbed his hand along the back of her neck and I saw her relax.

“Hello! I'm Richard,” said a shorter, dark-skinned man who rose from the couch to greet me. He wore a smile that lit up his face, and he tried to block a taller blond man who introduced himself as Kevin.

“Ignore these two clowns, Annie. They may be my groomsmen, but they aren't good enough for you and they don't know a thing about baseball,” Henry said.

I laughed and found myself relaxing around Richard and Kevin. They reminded me of Ian's friends back home, never serious and highly competitive about their sports. After a moment, Henry murmured something to Charlotte and the two of them wandered off toward the windows.

Richard handed me a beer and we all moved to the couch for an exciting third-inning rally. As they were engrossed in the game, I had a chance to get a better look around. Steel-framed windows made up the outside wall. The other three walls were white and blank and rose up at least fifteen feet to the ceiling. Other than the sectional, the only piece of furniture in the space was a glass table in front of the couch. In fact, the only sign of human habitation in the entire room was the gargantuan flat-screen TV mounted on the wall and several beer bottles on the glass table.

Jessica brooded from the corner of the couch. I tried to talk to her while Kevin and Richard yelled at the umpire for a bad call.

“How is school going?” I asked her.

“Fine.”

“What are your favorite subjects?”

“I don't have any.”

I asked her a few more questions, but she looked at me like I had two heads. I remembered my own mother's personal mantra during the teenage years: Don't take it personally. I'd repeated it often to myself when I'd taught high school, and this was a perfect occasion to use it again.

I restlessly grabbed my camera out of my purse and wandered over to the window. I was an avid baseball fan. But I had to admit, if it wasn't a Detroit game, I usually lost interest. The sun was setting lower over the Atlanta skyline and I wanted to get a shot of the orange and violet ribbons peeking out between the buildings.

“What do you think?”

I turned to see Nick standing behind me. My heart did its usual cartwheel and I wanted to slap it down.

He stood with his hands in the pockets of a worn-looking pair of jeans. An untucked blue-striped button-down hung lazily over his pants. That, plus the fact that he must have forgone a shave in the morning, made him pure
GQ
material.

He stared at me like he was waiting for something and I realized that I had forgotten his question.

“Do you like it, Bump?” he repeated.

I blinked, on the verge of making an inappropriate comment about his appearance. Then I realized he meant the room.

Did I like it? It was a masterpiece of modern architecture and design. It could have been on the front cover of one of those expensive magazines that most people never actually bought. The view of the Atlanta skyline was magnificent. I suspected he had a lot to do with this building's design and architecture. And looking at him now, as he watched me for my reaction, I knew he was proud of it.

But it was like Charlotte's dress.

It wasn't Nick. At least not the Nick I remembered.

Nick was raised in a house with antiques, scuffed wood floors, and dogs in every room. I wouldn't call the Conrads' house in Truhart cluttered, but it was homey. Walls were lined with hand-painted pictures and family photos. Furniture that his father and grandfather had made graced every room. I knew for a fact that his dad Russell had taught Nick how to make his own furniture. The two had spent many hours together, hammering away in the barn. I had a vivid memory of the day Nick had shown us the first piece of furniture he made. I remember how he ran his hands along the finely sanded arms of the rocking chair and his eyes lit up.

Where had all those little pieces of Nick gone?

The pounding behind my eyes returned. Would it be cruel if I told him that all the place needed were some inscriptions on the walls and a few urns? “It is really . . . clean. And so . . . white,” I said instead.

Nick's mouth looked pinched and I thought he was going to smile, which would have been crazy, given the intensity in his eyes. He shook his head with a grimace and hugged me, planting a kiss on my cheek that made me feel branded. “Never mind,” he said in my ear. “I can always tell how you feel about things, even when you don't say a word.”

I started to protest but was too overcome by his nearness. I breathed in the faint musk he was wearing, resisting the urge to lick his neck. When we broke apart I felt heat seeping across my face. I needed to find a corner to hide in before I made a fool of myself.

“How was dress shopping?” he asked.

“Great. Charlotte found a beautiful dress that everyone liked a lot.”

Nick tilted his head and I hoped he wasn't reading my mind again. Instead he looked across the room. “Well, it's Charlotte. What could look bad on her?”

“Of course.”

I, on the other hand, would have looked like a white goose in Charlotte's dress. Charlotte was the only one who had inherited my mother's petite beauty. I was just awkward and tall.

“I didn't get a chance to tell you last night, I saw your mom last week. She said you've been busy,” I said.

“We've been getting a lot of corporate business lately. It's been crazy. I was just on the phone in the back room, dealing with a new client.”

I nodded and looked out the window, wondering at how successful he seemed to have become.

Nick came to stand beside me. “That's Peachtree Center over there.”

“Oh.” I aimed my camera in the general direction and released the shutter.

“And that other building is the Sun Trust building.”

I lowered my camera and nodded. He was standing close enough that I could smell that musk again.