The Secret Wedding Dress (12 page)

“Are you gonna get married again? You said you and Mama got ’vorced.”

“Rianne, eat your waffle before it gets cold. I promise you, I have no plans to marry again.”

“Why?”

Unintentionally, Joel squeezed too much syrup on his own waffle. “Maybe I haven’t found a woman willing to answer
all your
whys,
” he said, staring with dismay at his swimming waffle.

“Sylvie let me ask as many
whys
as I wanted the day we made cookies. And when she showed me how to cut out Barbie’s dress.”

Joel knew beyond a doubt he was not going down that winding path with Rianne. “Which reminds me of what I meant to say before this conversation got off track. We need to go out this morning and buy you a new dress.”

“Goody, goody!” Rianne paused to swallow a bite of syrup-soaked waffle. “I don’t guess there’s time for Sylvie to sew me a dress, is there?”

“Definitely not. And if you see her between now and the wedding, I forbid you to ask her. Is that clear? I happen to know her schedule is full right up to wedding time.”

“What’s she doing?”

“A lot. Delivering dresses. Oh, and the women in the wedding party are taking the bride-to-be to lunch. What else did she tell me? I know…this morning Sylvie’s helping decorate the church. Like I said, she’s booked up.”

“Okay. Maybe I should I ask if she wants me to feed Oscar.”

“I’m sure Sylvie’s planned for that. But it’s good of you to offer. Hey, wanna help me buy a wedding gift? Now, there’s a chore I hate. Buying presents. Maybe that’s why guys get married,” he muttered. Then, afraid how that sounded, he laughed. “I mean…women like to shop a whole lot more than most men, Rianne.”

“I like to shop. Can we buy new shoes and socks to go with my dress?”

Joel sat for a moment contemplating future parties, school dances, proms and a myriad of other teenage activities. That would entail dresses, makeup and so on. He’d already had a taste of buying tap and ballet outfits. Odd how easily women handled purchasing soccer shoes, Little League uniforms and football helmets for their sons. Shopping genes had sure
bypassed him. Although, he thought wryly as he rinsed off their breakfast dishes, men managed to acquire a lot of know how about such issues as front versus back bra closures.

“Why are you smiling?” Rianne asked.

Caught, Joel quickly sobered. “You know me, snooks, I just had an idea for something funny for one of my cartoon characters. Which reminds me, if people we meet ask what I do…like what’s my job, just say I work at home, okay?”

“Why?”

“How did I know that would be your next question? Because…the paper I work for is in Atlanta. People in Briar-wood, North Carolina, won’t ever see Poppy and Rose.”

“Oh. Mommy saw them somewhere way far away, ’cause she said so.”

“She did. My strip is syndicated in some other papers. Big daily papers. Briarwood’s newspaper is a small weekly.”

She shrugged. “I’m going upstairs to check my Barbie case for a color dress I want us to buy for me.”

“While you’re up there, straighten your bed so that lazy cat will come down to get her breakfast.”

S
YLVIE GOT UP EARLY
to prepare for her busy day, but found herself stuck on the phone with Dory, who was saying, “Why didn’t you invite your studly neighbor to Kay’s wedding? I’ll tell you why. Because he’s available, and you’re afraid to take a risk again, Sylvie, after you got burned by that jerk in New York who stole your virginity—and your work.”

“Dory, that’s private! And…who said Joel’s available? Not him. Did he?”

“Aha, I hear interest in that question.”

“How can you hear anything, Dor? You never listen. I can’t believe you and Carline made a midnight end run around me. You guys hoped I wouldn’t see you—that’s why you paid Joel a late-night visit.”

“It wasn’t
that
late. Honey, we love you. Joel Mercer is
new blood. You’ve dismissed every other single male we’ve tried setting you up with.”

“At least you admit that’s why you took him casseroles,” she grumbled. “And haven’t you forgotten Buddy Deaver? Carline already fixed me up for the wedding. Who knows, maybe tonight I’ll discover ol’ Buddy and I are soul mates.”

“Pu…leese! That is
so
not going to happen. Carline must think you’re totally hopeless. I saw Buddy in town yesterday. He hasn’t changed. That’s why I felt your situation deserved drastic measures, hence the casserole run. Promise me that when Mercer shows up tonight, you’ll introduce him around. You are his nearest, dearest neighbor, after all.”

“I am not hopeless! And Joel’s not going to Kay’s wedding. Furthermore, I warned him what you two schemers are up to. If that’s your only point in phoning this morning, hang up and let me get ready to go decorate the church.”

“There’s nobody who loves weddings more than you, Sylvie. You love the flowers, dresses, matching napkin colors to cake decorations, the works. Mom said she surprised you the other night with a visit and you tried to hide the fact that you’re sewing on
the dress
again. When will you admit you want to take that walk down the aisle as much as the next woman?”

“Goodbye, Dory.” Sylvie hung up, knowing the dress form in the corner mocked her words. She hated the way her sister’s last jab had left her trembling. Didn’t anyone understand how much the truth hurt?

Wanting to weep, but refusing to give in to the feeling that always overwhelmed her on the day of a wedding, Sylvie hurried out to feed Oscar. She glanced into Mercer’s backyard. Thank goodness Fluffy was nowhere in sight. Speeding through her remaining chores, Sylvie grabbed the keys to the Mutt Mobile and loaded the gowns she needed to store at the church. Seconds before taking off, she made one last survey to see that she hadn’t forgotten anything, and saw Joel back out of his lane.

He sure was easy on the eyes. Given the slightest encouragement,
she could do something stupid like fall for him. For that reason, she was very glad Joel had no interest in attending Kay’s ceremony. She was exceedingly vulnerable at weddings.

The bout of blues Dory had instigated with her phone call soon disappeared. Sylvie did love the pomp and circumstance of weddings. Her fascination with them had begun at age ten. Her aunt Gail, her mom’s sister, married a man she’d met in New Orleans. They’d booked an historic plantation, and Gail’s gown came straight out of
Gone with the Wind.
Nan Shea had taken her daughters to New Orleans for two whole weeks while she helped her sister prepare. If Sylvie shut her eyes, she could still relive every fabulous hour of those fourteen days.

Dory and Carline had whined constantly and begged to go home. Sylvie sat and drew pictures of Gail’s gown and her bridesmaids’ dresses. She sketched the arch, the candles, the flowers and the cake. And, oh, those glorious hats. Aunt Gail gave Sylvie permission to take home a stack of old bridal magazines. She still had pages from them in her files. Every year thereafter, Sylvie had saved up her allowance to buy the current bridal magazines on the market.

She owed her grandmothers for noticing her interest and encouraging a desire to learn to sew the delicate fabrics. Although most people thought Sylvie’s real talent lay in new designs.

But…she still liked sewing gowns designed by others.

“Sylvie, is something wrong?” Kay asked an hour later, midway through the frenzy of decorating the church.

“Nothing. Why?”

“You seem, I don’t know, distracted.” Kay looked worried. “It’s not because you think I’m making a mistake marrying David, is it?”

“Heavens, no!” Sylvie hugged the jittery bride. “You should know me, Kay. I’m always preoccupied on wedding days. I want every detail to come off exactly as I see it unfolding in my mind.”

“Knowing you, they will. Hey, do you think it’s too late
for me to call and invite your neighbor to the wedding? Carline delivered gifts to the apartment this morning and suggested it. She said it’d be a nice gesture, since he and his daughter would have a chance to meet everyone then. I thought about mentioning it the other day, but I was afraid it would be tacky.”

“You were perfectly right, Kay. Carline’s hormonal, remember. I’m sorry she added to your wedding-day anxiety.”

“And yet, she has a point. I just phoned David and dumped the decision in his lap. All he has to do today is pick up the rings and his tux. He knows where Joel Mercer lives, so there’s no reason he can’t run out there.”

Sylvie frowned. “Surely he won’t go.”

“I guess it’s doubtful. Guys don’t do spur-of-the-moment stuff like that. Would it be the faux pas of the decade if he did ask Joel? You act like it’d be terrible. I can borrow your cell and call Dave and nix the idea once and for all.”

“Don’t be silly. Joel and his daughter drove off right before I left the house. My only concern is that Dave would make a wasted trip across town.”

“Oh, well.” Kay relaxed enough to grin. “If you think my nerves are shot, he’s a basket case. A drive from one side of town to the other could only calm him.”

The women shared a laugh at the groom’s expense. And Sylvie proceeded to the next item on her lengthy list, which included lunch with Kay and a trip to the beauty parlor.

Late getting home to exercise Oscar before her shower, Sylvie was driven by the ticking clock and Buddy’s imminent arrival. After she showered, she noticed that Joel’s van was back. Since she had other, more pressing concerns, she dismissed him from her mind.

Her biggest concern at the moment—the car her date arrived in and parked at her door. Not his father’s Caddy. That would’ve been preferable. The car sitting in her drive was bright blue, low slung and possessed a feral growl. Sylvie had to consciously bite back a word she never uttered. But…surely
anyone who drove a high-powered sportscar went by Jarvis, rather than Buddy.

Peering out a side window, she saw he wore a tuxedo and carried a plastic corsage box.

Sylvie drew back. What now? Should she lose the corsage that matched all the other bridesmaids’? Wear two flowers? Yikes!

Since Buddy was obviously trying to make a good impression, she opted to wear his flower now and tell him she’d exchange them at the church.

“Hi,” he boomed through her screen, standing too close for Sylvie to open it and let him in. “Sylvie…I don’t know if you remember me.” He fiddled with his skewed bow tie.

“I do. Oh, you brought me flowers. That was sweet. But…did Carline mention I’m in the wedding party?”

“Mother bought the gardenia. You don’t have to wear it if you’d rather not.”

She forced him back by opening the screen. Lunging toward her, he grabbed and pumped Sylvie’s hand up and down until she thought her arm would fall off. His palms were slick with perspiration. Obviously Buddy-Jarvis-Deaver’s cool facade was all in his automobile. She finally wrenched her hand free. “Ah…let me grab a wrap for later. I’ll, uh, wear your flower until the ceremony, Buddy. That way, if they run pre-wedding photos in the paper, your mom won’t feel her effort went to waste.”

“That’s good of you. I see you know how Mother is.”

Sylvie wouldn’t touch that remark. Plus, she did remember Buddy after she managed a close-up. He wore the same buzz cut that had set him apart in school. And his stubborn cowlick remained, parting his hair smack-dab in center front. One thing had changed, though—he used to be painfully shy. On the drive to the church, during which Sylvie would have preferred silence, Buddy talked nonstop, boring her with stock market statistics for the entire year.

Every
so often, Sylvie glanced his way, hoping he’d run down. Unfair of her? Perhaps. Her eyes crossed when he started probing her finances and that of her family. But when he said, “I’m glad you offered to go to the wedding with me, Sylvie. I haven’t seen these characters since high school. I know after you reintroduce me they’ll all ask what I can do for them in the current stock and bond market.”

“Buddy, uh, Jarvis,” she blurted, not caring if she sounded disgusted. “Weddings are social occasions. You can’t use Kay and Dave’s special day to shove your business ventures down the throats of their guests.”

He gunned the high-powered motor petulantly, even though he’d just entered a restricted speed zone that curved into the church parking lot. “I thought you, of all people, would be financially savvy. Mother said you worked in New York City. Practically Wall Street.”

“The garment district is not on Wall Street.”

Buddy launched another incomprehensible diatribe explaining market growth. Sylvie knew then that it was going to be a long night.

J
OEL HEARD
Sylvie’s date drive in. Actually, he’d been watching at the window. However, he identified the honeyed growl of a Lamborghini seconds before it made the swing into Sylvie’s drive. A sportscar aficionado, but forced to sell his Porsche—which hadn’t been half the car parked at Sylvie’s—in exchange for a van, Joel all but drooled down the glass. This dude obviously didn’t have a baby and all the kid paraphernalia to transport to and from a sitter. That was when Joel had kissed his Porsche goodbye.

Gripping the curtain in one hand, Joel pictured Sylvie’s previous date. That guy’s car hadn’t exactly been the vehicle of a pauper.

Straining for a better glimpse of the car, he saw the couple exit the house. Each could have stepped out of a fashion ad. Armani tux, he guessed, having occasionally traveled in
exalted circles. And Sylvie appeared très chic in a long, slinky dress reflecting the iridescent colors of the fading sun.

Joel caught the turn of the man’s head and jerked sideways so as not to be seen with his nose glued to the window. He hurried to another spot to follow the departure of what he considered to be one of the world’s most well-honed automobiles. That tail fin was pure beauty.

“What’cha doin’, Daddy?”

Joel jumped guiltily back a second time. He hadn’t heard Rianne enter the room. “Hey, baby, don’t you look spiffy?” Making a huge show of bowing, Joel extended a hand. “May I have this dance, fair lady?”

She twirled around until her pale-blue organza dress stood out like a bell. “I brought down the ribbon that matches my dress. Will you tie it in my hair like the lady at the dress store showed you?”