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Authors: Melody Carlson

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BOOK: Glamour
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Once we’re resettled in the conference room, Fran opens her notebook. “We still need to get some more monologue critiques from you,” Fran tells Paige. “To go with the actual fashion show.”

“And I can be totally candid and honest?” Paige asks Helen.

“In a dignified, ladylike way,” Helen tells her. “We want to keep Paige Forrester on the high road.”

Paige nods. “This is going to be fun.”

“Maybe you should help,” Fran tells me. “Can you come up with some good comments?”

I grin at her. “Oh, yeah, I had some opinions.”

She turns to Leah. “Why don’t you get them scheduled for next week?”

“I’m on it.” Leah gathers her things and leaves.

“So are you girls excited about your mom’s big day tomorrow?” Helen asks as the four of us linger in the conference room. Paige gives her a blow-by-blow of everything we have to get done by then. Hearing the to-do list, I’m actually feeling overwhelmed.

“Maybe we should let them get on their way,” Fran says to Helen.

“Sounds good.” Helen nods. “I think we’re done here.”

“Are we still okay with JJ getting some footage
after
the wedding?” Fran asks us. “During the reception?”

“Absolutely,” Paige assures her. “In fact, I’ve hired JJ to tape the wedding ceremony as well.”

“We’ll combine it with the wedding dress shopping as well as the wedding dress fashion show,” Fran explains to Helen. “For a wedding special that will play in late June.”

“Wonderful!” Helen claps her hands.

“You’re both still coming to the wedding, right?” Paige asks them.

“You bet.” Helen smiles. “I’m a sucker for a good wedding.”

Fran nods. “I’ll be there.”

We all head our various ways, but as Paige and I are about to split up in the parking lot (she insisted we come
separately because there’s so much to do today), she hands me a list.

“What’s this?”

“Your to-do list for the day.”

“Okay … “ I glance over the list, which isn’t too overwhelming and is mostly what I thought I was going to be doing anyway. And then I see it ends with Acapella’s. I know Acapella’s is a swanky salon, but I’m not sure why I’m going there at four thirty. “Am I supposed to pick up something at Acapella’s?” I ask.

“I scheduled appointments for all three of us several months ago.”

“Really?”

“Yes! Won’t it be fun?”

“Sure. But will we be late for the rehearsal?”

“My plan is that we’ll go directly from Acapella’s to the rehearsal. So make sure you take what you want to wear with you.”

“Okay.”

“Maybe you should tell Blake to pick you up at Acapella’s. I’ll just take Mom with me.”

We reach her car, and I just don’t want to go into the recent events with Blake and why he won’t be with me tonight. So I nod and smile instead. I can explain later. Besides, Paige will be going stag, or whatever girls call it, tonight too. Maybe she and I can get in some sister time together.

I run around town, doing last-minute things that should’ve been done last week. When it’s nearly four, I’m thinking a couple hours of pampering at Acapella’s is sounding pretty sweet. So I swing by the condo, grab my dress and shoes for tonight, and just as I’m going down the stairs, Grandma Hebo is coming up.

“Grandma!” I shriek happily.

We hug, and she explains that she’s on her way to the hotel where some of our other relatives are staying and where tonight’s rehearsal will happen. I tell her I’m on my way to the salon and that Mom and Paige are there too.

“Well, come on down and meet someone before you go,” Grandma tells me. She leads me to a car where an older man gets out, and my grandma introduces me to Howard Stack —
her boyfriend!

I try not to act shocked, but I cannot believe my grandma has a boyfriend. This is so out of the blue. “Nice to meet you,” I say as he shakes my hand.

“I’m looking forward to meeting the rest of your family,” he says politely. “I’ve heard such good things about you.”

“And he watches your TV show,” Grandma tells me. “In fact, I’ve actually seen it a few times myself.”

“But you don’t have a TV,” I point out.

Howard chuckles. “That’s how we got connected. She wanted to come over and use my TV.”

“So we could say that you and Paige brought Howard and me together.”

“Interesting.” Then I apologize and tell them I have to run. “But I’ll see you tonight at the rehearsal dinner.”

They wave and I hop into my Jeep, where I simply shake my head. My grandma has a boyfriend. That is just crazy.

Mom and Paige are already at Acapella’s when I arrive, and before long we’re all being manicured and pedicured and coiffed and pampered. As the stylists work, I tell Mom and Paige about Grandma Hebo’s boyfriend. Naturally, this brings on speculation and humor, and it feels like we’re three old girlfriends just out having a good time.

“I could do this every other day,” Paige says as we’re all relaxing in the big leather recliners at the pedicure station.

“I feel so spoiled,” Mom admits. “But I like it.”

By six thirty we are finished with our appointments and in the dressing room getting ready for the rehearsal. Paige’s phone rings, and suddenly she is jumping up and down in her underwear, squealing like she’s won the lottery.

“What is it?” Mom asks as Paige hangs up.

“Dylan!”

“Yeah?” I peer curiously at her. She doesn’t normally do the Snoopy happy dance when Dylan calls.

“He’s here.”

“In LA?” Mom blinks.

“He made it after all. He’s on his way here to pick me up. So I won’t be the only one without a date at dinner tonight after all.” She frowns at Mom. “I was going to give you a ride to the—”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,
my date
is picking me up.” Mom looks at her watch. “I’d better hurry. Jon said he’d be here by six forty-five.”

“And Erin’s going with Blake, so I guess we’re all set.”

As we scramble to get dressed and do our final primping, I just can’t bring myself to tell them that Blake won’t be at the dinner tonight. For one thing, they’ll want to know why. And then they’ll probably feel sorry for me. I just don’t think I can deal with all that in seven minutes or less, so I say nothing.

But I am determined not to feel sorry for myself tonight. This is about my mom and Jon, and I don’t want anything to put a damper on it. At the rehearsal, when I’m asked where Blake is, I simply say that something came up and he couldn’t make it tonight, but that he will definitely be at the wedding
tomorrow. No one seems to question it. And, as far as I know, since he was invited, he will be at the wedding tomorrow. He just won’t be
with
me.

The rehearsal goes fairly smoothly. We all realize it will be a bit different at the rose garden in the park tomorrow, but this was the best we could do for an evening rehearsal. For the dinner afterward, also in the hotel, I sit with Grandma and Howard, who fortunately don’t know anything about Blake, so there are no sticky questions for me to answer.

Instead we talk about cameras and photography. It turns out that Howard has been taking photos for decades and has just recently decided to step into the digital world. I’m thankful for the distraction of explaining all the latest, greatest technology to him. Because, frankly, I’m practically the only one here without a date tonight, and it feels a little lame.

Chapter
8

On the morning of Mom’s wedding, I call
Blake. “I need a really huge favor,” I tell him.

“What?” He sounds like I woke him up.

“I know we’re not together, but last night at the rehearsal dinner, my mom seemed concerned about me being alone. Dylan arrived yesterday for Paige, and even my grandma has a date. I don’t want mom getting worried if it looks like you and I aren’t speaking to each other. I just don’t want to be that one gray cloud on her otherwise sunny day. You know? So, I’m begging you, Blake, could you please just
act
like you’re with me today?”

“Okay.”

I’m surprised but relieved. “Okay then. Well, thanks. I appreciate it. I just don’t want Mom heading off to her honeymoon all worried that I’m back home dying of a broken heart.” I instantly regret that last bit.

“Not that there’s any chance of that,” he says wryly.

I let that comment pass. “So do you want to just meet there then?”

“Works for me.”

As I thank him again, I can’t help feeling like I just hired an escort. Really, how dumb is this? Maybe I should’ve just told my family the truth. What difference does it make? Or maybe it’s my pride … maybe I’m embarrassed to be dateless at my mom’s wedding. But if that were the case, why didn’t I just call someone else? There are plenty of guys in our college fellowship group who would willingly escort me to a wedding.

“Erin,” Paige is calling to me. “Come help me with this.”

And that’s how the morning starts and keeps on going — Paige calling the shots and me answering. By one o’clock we have ourselves and our mother pretty much together, and we’re actually not feeling too stressed. Mom looks elegant in her satin dress and pearls, her hair swept up in a French twist, her makeup done perfectly by Paige.

“The limo will be here in about ten minutes,” Paige tells Mom.

“A limo?” Mom blinks.

Paige grins. “You bet. We are going out in style.”

I’m opening the chilled sparkling cider that Paige insisted we must use to toast with before leaving the condo. I fill three champagne glasses, hand one each to Mom and Paige, then start the first toast.

“Here’s to the best mom ever,” I say, “and to all the good times we’ve had together. And here’s to many, many more!”

We clink glasses and sip, and then Paige makes a toast. “Here’s to a great marriage with a great guy.” She winks at Mom. “And to a great honeymoon!”

“That reminds me,” I say suddenly, “I was supposed to have your bags at the door for the driver to take down. Are they in your room, Mom?”

“Wait,” Mom says. “I need to make my toast.”

So I pause as Mom raises her glass. “Here’s to the two best daughters any mother could ever want. Here’s to your careers and your futures. May they be as bright and beautiful as you two are.”

We have a group hug and try not to cry. The next thing we know, the driver is knocking on the door and we’re scrambling to get Mom’s bags and gathering up the miscellaneous things that need to go to the rose garden with us. Finally we’re almost out the door, but Mom stops, takes one last look inside the condo—almost as if seeing if for the last time—then closes and locks the door.

“It’s the beginning of a new era,” she says in a serious tone.

Then to brighten the mood, I begin to sing “Here Comes the Bride,” and Paige joins in as we troop down the stairs in our wedding garb. But as we’re getting into the white limo, I see tears in my mother’s eyes. So Paige and I make small talk as we ride. Paige talks about details in regard to the wedding. I tell Mom about some of my favorite spots in Paris, although I’ve already written them down for her. I think we’re mostly just trying to fill the air, keeping things light and happy. I know I’m having a hard time holding back the tears.

But once we’re at the garden, we’re distracted with getting ready, and soon the ceremony begins. The wedding goes fairly smoothly, thanks, I’m sure, to Paige’s meticulous planning. It is so beautiful in the rose garden. My mom was right to pick this place. The roses are in full bloom and the golden afternoon sunlight filtering through the trees is magical. And when I see Jon slip the ring onto Mom’s finger and look into her eyes with that expression of pure devotion on his face, I feel sure she’s in good hands.

Then I see Mom’s face, just before they kiss, and she looks radiantly joyful. That’s when I give up trying to hold back my tears. Paige and I are both crying, but they’re happy tears. Mom has had so much sadness in her life that it would be impossible not to be glad for her now. I even think my dad is happy, and I feel him with us.

After the wedding and some photos in the rose garden, the wedding party relocates to the hotel where the reception is being held in a ballroom. Although the wedding was small and intimate, and I think absolutely perfect, Paige convinced Mom to invite more guests to the reception—as well as to pull out all the stops. And when Mom protested that it would be too expensive, Paige and I offered to cover the expenses. It’s not every day that daughters get to pay for their mom’s wedding reception.

I’ll admit that I wasn’t too thrilled about this reception idea at first, mostly because Mom had been dragging her heels, but now that we’re here and I see all these people together—all of Jon’s and Mom’s TV industry friends, plus ones that Paige and I invited, as well as old friends and family—I realize this is one fun group of people.

Blake is keeping his word by pretending to be “with” me. We sit side by side at the main table, smiling and acting congenial, but in reality we are barely speaking. We’re like actors playing roles, and I can tell he’s not enjoying it any more than I am. Then, after toasts are made and food is served, the dancing begins. Paige worked it all out: Mom and Jon dance to “The Way You Look Tonight,” which is so romantic. After that song ends Jon invites Paige to dance, and Mom invites Jon’s only son, Robert, to dance. Then they break midway and Jon asks me to dance. Meanwhile Paige
asks Dylan. By the third song, I’m expected to ask Blake to dance, so I do.

“Thank you for cooperating with this,” I say to him with a stiff smile.

“You’re welcome.” He matches my smile with one that’s equally stiff.

“You’re a good sport and I appreciate it.”

He just nods.

“And if you want to take off early, I’ll understand.”

He gives me a curious look. “So … are you asking me to leave?”

“No, of course not.”

“But you’d rather I wasn’t here.”

“I didn’t say that, Blake.”

“You didn’t have to.”

We continue to dance in silence now. I’m so frustrated I can’t even think of anything to say. Part of me wants to ask him why he is acting like such a jerk. Another part wants to tell him I’m sorry. Instead, I do nothing. When the music ends, Blake formally thanks me for the dance, makes an elaborate bow, and walks out of the ballroom. I glance around to see if anyone witnessed our mini drama, but thankfully everyone seems more interested in their own dramas … or rather, romances.

BOOK: Glamour
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