A Bride After All (15 page)

“A
lways a bridesmaid,” Marylou said on a sigh as she handed Chessie a bouquet of petite purple calla lilies. “You’re in a rut, darling.”

“I know. I’ve got to start carrying more bridesmaid gowns. We’re just lucky I had these two on hand, because I didn’t have the time to order them. You look pretty good, by the way, Ms. Matron of Honor.”

Marylou went over to the mirror and inspected her appearance in the dusky violet gown. “I do, don’t I? I’m not too crazy about that title, Matron, but it’s probably better than being the world’s oldest bridesmaid. At any rate, this will be one night Ted doesn’t fall asleep in front of the TV.”

“No, no, too much information,” Chessie teased her, and then quickly attempted to change the subject. “Have you ever been at a wedding here in Packer Chapel before, Marylou? It’s so beautiful, and perfect for a candlelight ceremony.”

“Not just anyone can get married here. Wasn’t Nick smart to be a Lehigh University graduate?”

Chessie smiled. “Yes, I’m sure that’s why he picked Lehigh, just in case he wanted to get married here someday. Come on, we should go join the other bridesmaids.”

“In a minute. I want to talk to you for a minute.”

“Oh, God, I was afraid of that,” Chessie said, shaking her head. “All right, get it over with, whatever it is.”

“See how compatible we are? You know just when to give up. I appreciate that. All right, here goes. Claire looks like someone out of a bridal magazine in that gown, doesn’t she? We both sure do know how to pick them, the right gown for the right bride. And when we put those two things together—well, I’ve got a great idea.”

“Uh-oh,” Chessie said, looking toward the door as if eager to escape. “The last time you told me about a great idea you had, I ended up all but kidnapping poor little Stefano.”

“Like you didn’t enjoy it,” Marylou said, dismissing Chessie’s protest with a wave of her hand. “No, what I’m thinking is, if we could help Claire slap together a wedding like this in six short weeks, then
we’re sadly wasting our talents if we stop with just Claire’s wedding. I think we ought to expand the business. Still Second Chance Bridal, but we’ll be more of a full-service establishment. Wedding planners. Second chance wedding planners.”

“We,” Chessie repeated. “As in you and me we?”

“Yes, as in partners. People should go with their strengths, Chess, do what they do best. And we’re
good
at this.”

Chessie didn’t want to admit it—and that was an understatement—but Marylou’s proposition intrigued her, a lot. “You know, Marylou, that isn’t a half-bad idea. Let’s talk more about it next week.
Now
can we rejoin the others? Claire’s walking down that aisle in five minutes.”

“Not yet. I’ve got another question, as long as I’ve got you here. Are you going out to dinner with him, or not?”

There was no sense pretending she didn’t understand the question. And clearly Marylou had planned the timing of that question so that she had to answer it or else throw Claire’s wedding into chaos. “You are a mean and twisted woman, Marylou.”

“Yes, I know. So? You can’t really go out to dinner with him. I mean, not unless you’re planning to dump the soup course over his head.”

“I never should have told you Rick called me. But he’s only going to be in town for a few days,” Chessie said, edging toward the door. “Where’s the harm? I mean, he just wants to apologize.”

“Oh, honey, no, he doesn’t. I don’t know what he wants from you, but it isn’t a chance to crawl on both knees, asking your forgiveness. You can’t go.”

“We’ll talk about this another time, too,” Chessie said, heading for the door. “Besides, can I help it if I’m curious?”

“And you know what curiosity did to the cat,” her friend reminded her as they rejoined the others in the larger room.

Chessie put down her flowers and walked in a full circle around Claire, inspecting the gown for any problems. As if a gown like this, worn by a woman like Claire, could present any problems. “Nope, I can’t see a thing I’d change. You’re perfect.”

“I feel like a fairy-tale princess,” Claire confided quietly as Marylou handed her a bouquet of miniature ivory calla lilies, only slightly larger than the nosegays the bridesmaids would carry. “Thank you. I never thought I could feel this way. There’s just something so
right
about everything. I’m not even nervous. Not a single butterfly. Although I can’t wait to see Nick. Isn’t that remarkable?”

“It’s time, we need to line up for the processional,” Claire’s father said, poking his head into the room. “I found your ring bearer in the Men’s Room, trying to put his suspenders back on. Why he took them off remains a mystery, but he’s ready now. Right, buddy?”

Nick’s son stepped into the room, his hair a little
stiff where someone had slicked it down with a wet comb, it appeared, and looked at Claire, his eyes wide with wonder. “Wow,” he said, and then grinned. “Dad’s going to go
nuts
.”

“See? Out of the mouths of babes. We’re good at this,” Marylou whispered to Chessie as they took their places in line, just as the organist began the traditional Wedding March.

The soft light from dozens of candles lit the chapel as Chessie stood in her place and turned to watch the bride make her way down the aisle on her father’s arm.

Claire was a beautiful woman. She’d been especially beautiful waiting to walk down this aisle and marry Nick.

But when she’d seen him, waiting for her, Claire Ayers became, for that one special moment, the most beautiful woman in the world. And then Chessie tore her gaze from her new friend’s radiant face to look at the groom, see his reaction.

Nick, bless him, had tears in his eyes. What had Marylou said to her that day in the salon? Yes, she remembered. She’d said that Nick had cried
the way a really caring man cries. Honest
…
real. Not a question in my mind—he’s a keeper.

Chessie loved her job, but every day she was reminded that it wasn’t the gown. It wasn’t the flowers or the church or the band at the reception or the exotic honeymoon. It was the man. It was the woman.

Nick and Claire knew that, and their belief in each other, their trust in each other and the love they so obviously shared, lit up the chapel like a thousand suns.

Yes,
Chessie told herself as she dabbed at her moist eyes with the tissue she’d hidden in her flowers,
I believe in second chances. I do…