An (Almost) Perfect Love Story (Love Story Book Three) (12 page)

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Authors: Rachel Schurig

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BOOK: An (Almost) Perfect Love Story (Love Story Book Three)
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I squirmed in my seat. “Everything’s just been crazy.” I didn’t say the words I was thinking, that I had never imagined I’d be planning a wedding without my mother at my side. Clearly, she wanted to be involved, but how could I have fun letting her help when the mere sound of her voice made me want to get violent? It had been far easier to just ignore the whole wedding thing all together.

“Ash,” Ryan said, his voice serious. “Think about how many times we imagined this. How many times have you and I sat and mooned over your dream wedding?”

I managed a smile. Ryan was right. He and I had spent an inordinate amount of time watching wedding-based reality shows and talking about my future fairytale big day.

“I just want you to forget about all the family crap for an afternoon, you know? Just enjoy yourself.”

“I can do that,” I said firmly. I was letting my parents’ problems get in the way of enjoying something I had dreamed about for years. It was silly. I stood and headed into the changing room, determined to have fun with my friends and live out my wedding dress fantasy.

Janet started me off with an assortment of styles based on the pictures we had given her. First up was one of Ryan’s picks, a snug-fitting mermaid style by Maggie Sottero. The dress was made of the softest organza I had ever felt, form-fitting throughout the bodice and down to the knees. The organza pulled asymmetrically across my hips until it cascaded down into a full skirt around the knees. A scattering of crystals decorated the bust line.

“Wow,” I whispered, staring at myself in the mirror. “Wow.”

“It’s beautiful,” Janet said, smiling warmly at me in the mirror as she worked on the corset ties in the back. “Sottero dresses give every girl a nice figure. Not that you needed any help with that, dear.”

She had a point. The dress somehow made me look longer, taller, and added curves around my hips and bust line that I wasn’t used to seeing. Suddenly, all thoughts of my parents and their drama seemed to wash away from my mind. I got to pick out a wedding dress! Feeling giddy, I followed Janet from the dressing room to the oohs and ahs of Emily and Ryan.

“I love it,” Ryan said, standing up so he could inspect the dress more closely. “This is one of my picks, isn’t it? Maggie Sottero?”

Janet gave him an impressed look. “It is indeed. This style is great on most figures, adds a lot of height, I think. And the crystals there on the bodice are genuine Swarovski.”

“Wow,” I murmured again. Outside the dressing room was the traditional elevated platform surrounded by floor-to-ceiling mirrors. As I stood there, I couldn’t take my eyes off the dress.

“I’m not sure,” Emily said quietly, wrinkling her nose at me. “I mean, you look great, Ash, seriously. But I’m not sure if I’m really crazy about the style. Is it supposed to be all poofy just around your knees?”

Ryan glared at her but Janet seemed unconcerned. “The mermaid style tends to be somewhat polarizing. People either love it or they hate it.”

“I love it,” Ryan said staunchly, still glaring at Emily for throwing cold water over his choice.

“Well, it’s just the first dress,” Janet pointed out. “I have a few more mermaids in the room with a more natural flow of the skirt. We have some A-lines to try on as well.”

Soon I was lost in a sea of tulle and silk. I tried on more mermaid dresses, a ball gown or two, and half a dozen A-line dresses. Janet put me in dresses with sweetheart necklines and halter necklines, strapless and sleeveless. I even tried on a dress with quarter length sleeves. Ryan laughed and told me I looked like a nun. As the appointment neared its close, I felt overwhelmed and confused—but completely exhilarated. Trying on wedding dresses was one of the most fun things I had ever done in my life. Even Emily didn’t seem to get bored, and shopping was generally one of her least favorite chores.

“We have two more today,” Janet said, helping me to slip out of a flowing Alfred Angelo A-line. “They’re very different, but I think they encompass a lot of what you said you liked today.”

At first glance, I thought the dress Janet was holding out would be way too simple. I didn’t detect any sparkle or mass of volume in the skirt. Once she had slipped it over my head and I could see myself in the mirror, my doubts disappeared.

“Oh my God,” I whispered. “I think this is it.”

The dress was simple, but it was beautiful. The bodice was covered in delicate lace with a subtle scalloped neckline. The lace gave way to soft tulle just past my hips, the skirt gently flaring out into a soft A-line. A silk bow at the waist made me look much more slender than I really was. I loved it.

Janet was nodding at me approvingly. “Let’s go show them.”

I figured it was a good sign when Emily started to cry. “You look so pretty,” she sniffed, wiping at her eyes. “Oh, Ash! I love it!”

Ryan was standing with his arms crossed, his face the picture of concentration as he peered at my dress. “Was that one of the pictures?”

Janet shook her head. “I chose this one. I thought it would suit her.” When Ryan still didn’t respond, she went on. “It’s from the Bliss collection from Monique Lhuillier, and very affordably priced for such a big name designer.” She didn’t need to say any more. I could see Ryan’s face light up at the name. He’d always been a sucker for labels.

“It
is
a little plain,” he said, not ready to give in just yet. Prior to this dress, the top contender had been one of his choices, a soft fit and flare that we’d all liked. I could see that he wasn’t willing to give up his bridal couture crown without a fight.

Knowing that the best way to get him to agree to the dress would be to give him some control, I made my voice as innocent as I could. “What do you think it needs, Ry?”

“Maybe a little sparkle,” he murmured, coming closer to peer at the lace. “Janet, do you have a belt with some crystals?”

“Of course,” she said. “Should I grab a veil, too?”

A veil! I felt another rush of excitement. It all felt so real, suddenly. Ryan told Janet what he wanted and she hurried off, leaving the three of us alone.

“You love it, don’t you?” Emily asked, watching my face. I couldn’t keep my eyes off my reflection in the mirror. I had never felt so beautiful in my entire life.

“I do,” I said, twirling a little so I could see the back. “I really, really do.”

“It looks like you,” she murmured. “And I think Chris would really like it.”

I pictured his face, seeing me in this dress, walking down the aisle. I felt like jumping up and down. This was definitely, definitely the dress.

A moment later, Janet returned. “Face this way,” she instructed, turning me away from the mirror. “I don’t want you to see it until we’re all done.” She pulled the bow from the dress and replaced it with a silk belt encrusted with glittering crystals. She then twisted my hair up so it was off of my neck, securing it with a pin from her pocket, before placing a veil on my head.

“Okay,” she said. “Turn around.”

I turned back to the mirror and let out a little squeal. The blinged out sash was perfect, exactly what the dress needed to take it to the next level. The veil Janet had chosen was cathedral length. It flowed out behind the dress in a trail of finest tulle. The edges were trimmed with a narrow border of lace, perfectly matching the dress.

“Perfect,” Ryan murmured, nodding appreciatively. “Absolutely perfect.” I met his eyes and his face broke out into a grin. “You look like a million bucks, babe.”

“I can’t believe I found my dress!” I wanted to jump off the platform and do a cartwheel, but I had a feeling that wouldn’t go over very well with Janet. I also wasn’t sure I could even do a cartwheel. So I made do with bouncing up and down on the balls of my feet.

“This will fit just about any venue you can imagine,” Janet said. “I think you’ll be happy with it no matter where you end up getting married.”

Her words put an immediate damper on my mood. I didn’t know where I was getting married, or even when. Looking at myself in the mirror, I took a deep breath. Finding the dress had made a few things really clear to me. For the first time since we’d gotten engaged, I realized how much I wanted to marry Chris—and how much I wanted to have the wedding I had always dreamed of. As much as I hated to admit it, my parents weren’t going to magically get back together just to make my life easier. The only way this wedding was going to happen any time soon was if I sucked it up and started making plans, regardless of how angry I was at my mom.

“Should we get you measured?” Janet asked. “Or do you want to sleep on it?”

I met Ryan’s eye in the mirror. He was watching my face. “Do you maybe want to show your mom first?” he asked softly.

“I probably should,” I said. It made me feel sad to think of picking a dress without her input. She had helped me make every big decision for the past twenty-five years, from what prom dress to wear to what college to choose. No matter how angry and confused I might be about the situation with my dad, she was still my mother—a mother I had always considered myself very close with. Could I really get a dress without her here?

I had a sudden flash of picking out my prom dress. I had wanted something short, a hot pink fifties-style swing dress that I had fallen in love with at first sight. My mother, however, insisted that I get something floor length. “It’s your first formal dress, Ashley,” she had said in that knowing way of hers. “There will be professional pictures that you’ll keep for years. You want to look appropriate.” Then she had eyed the beloved pink dress, condescension written all over her face.

“I’ll take it,” I heard myself say. Ryan looked at me in surprise. I turned to Janet. “I’d like to put a deposit down.”

“Very good,” she said. “Let’s get you out of the dress, and I’ll take your measurements, then we can go over the sale process.”

I stepped off the platform feeling somewhat dizzy about the decision I had just made, but surprisingly determined. I loved this dress and I was going to wear it for my wedding. And no one, not even Amber Phillips, was going to talk me out of it.

Chapter Eleven

I was in a funk all day Thursday, no doubt because I was dreading the meeting with my mother and the wedding planner that afternoon. Why hadn’t I just been strong and told her I wasn’t interested? She had called me on my way to work that morning to remind me not to be late. I didn’t tell her about the dress. In spite of my act of confidence in the bridal salon, in the cold light of day, I was pretty scared of how she was going to react.

By three o’clock, I had raised my voice to Tony and two other kids. I had threatened to cancel recess and put two more kids on yellow. When the bell finally rang, I felt terrible. I made it a rule to never take out my personal life on my students. It wasn’t their fault that my mom was driving me nuts.

“Miss Ashley,” Tony said, pulling on the edge of my cardigan. I felt a flash of irritation. Tony had been on my very last nerve all day. Rambunctious at the best of times, the kid seemed to have an extra sense to detect when my patience was wearing thin. Ordering myself not to snap at him, I looked down at his little face.

“I’m sorry I was so bad today.”

His eyes were large and pleading. Immediately, I felt like crying. How obviously annoyed had I been with him? I kneeled next to him and put my arm around his little shoulder. “You weren’t bad, buddy. I want you to try and listen better tomorrow, but you weren’t bad, okay?”

His face lit up in a smile, and I felt even worse. “Okay. I’ll listen better. Promise.”

I squeezed his shoulders and released him. “Go on and get to the bus, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe you can help me water the plants in the morning.”

“Awesome!” he cried, giving me one last grin before running out of the room. I stared after him, feeling tired and angry with myself. Watering plants was one of the prized chores in the room. For reasons only making sense to five year olds, every kid in the room constantly begged me to be the plant waterer. I knew that Tony’s behavior was much improved when I gave him special jobs like that. I needed to do a better job of remembering that, instead of letting my temper get the best of me.

I sighed and stood, heading over to my desk to grab my purse. I had to rush if I wanted to meet my mother and the planner on time—not that I really wanted to, but my mother would never let me live down the rudeness if I wasn’t there.

She had arranged for us to meet at a coffee house in Birmingham, about ten minutes from my apartment. I wondered if she was staying nearby or if she had picked the location out of convenience for me. I had no idea what hotel she was in, and was in no hurry to find out. Knowing her, it was somewhere swanky, if my hunch was correct and she was using my dad’s charge card to finance her little “break.”

“Ashley, dear, you look exhausted,” she said as I approached her table. She stood up to kiss my cheek. “Is that chalk on your skirt?”

“I came straight from work, Mother,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.

“It’s all right, dear, I’m sure she won’t notice. Here, maybe you can wipe it off.” She attacked the chalk mark on my black skirt with a napkin from the table.

“Mom, please,” I said, shooing her hand away.

There was a momentary awkward silence. I stared hard at the table, thinking how strange this all was; how I had felt immediately angry and defensive the moment I saw her. It made me both sad—we had always been so close—and angry at the same time.

“How are you, dear?”

I looked up, surprised to see that my mom was peering at my face. She looked odd, sad almost.

I shrugged. “I’m fine.”

“Is Chris well? Are the two of you enjoying the engagement?”

I thought about Chris’s words the previous Saturday, about how glad he had been to see me get excited about the wedding, and I felt another little flash of anger at her.

“Chris is fine, Mom,” I said, not bothering to hide my annoyance.

I thought I saw her face fall a little bit, but she quickly looked away, glancing around at the bustling café. “I’ve been here for five minutes already, and I haven’t seen a single waiter. What kind of service is that?”

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