Unbelievable (6 page)

Maggie had a gentleness about her, especially with Cole. When he hurt himself, she’d be there helping him up or bandaging an injury. She encouraged him when he made disparaging remarks about his clumsiness. When she spoke with Seth over the phone, the love was almost palpable. Her eyes glowed. And her verbal abuse of Booker had me in tears. Her quick wit with the cat jokes amazed me.
“Gatto means cat in Italian. I love to taunt him,” she explained with a wicked grin.

But the thing that impressed me the most
about her was when a drunk man from the ER accidently wandered into Cole’s office looking for the bathroom.

“You have the wrong door. The restroom is that way,” I pointed down the hall. When he turned the wrong way, Maggie took off after him and led him to the bathroom. She waited outside until he finished and took him back to the ER waiting room.

Doubt weighed heavily on my mind as I got in my car to meet up with her at the bridal shop.

Hoping to lighten my mood, I turned on my mother’s favorite Ricky Martin CD and sang my way to the bridal shop. Big mistake. It only reminded me that
my mother and I’d never have the chance to go wedding dress shopping together. She’d never cuddle her grandchildren. I brushed the teardrops from my lashes. “Okay, Delilah, stay focused,” I said in my harshest, Daddy-like voice.

I pulled up to a small shop on Main Street and parked. Maggie stood in the doorway, waving me over.

“Hi. Thanks for doing this. I really appreciate it. It’ll be nice to have another female’s opinion.” She held open the glass door and I followed her inside. Mendelssohn’s
Wedding March
chimed out to alert the staff that a customer entered the store. “That really should be
The Imperial March
playing. Oh wait, you didn’t see the movies. Never mind. Prepare yourself.”

“She’s that bad, huh?”

“Oh, yeah,” Maggie assured me. “I made the mistake of telling her my budget and now she keeps pushing all these expensive dresses and veils at me.”

The shop was sleek with its modern chic décor, though not something I
’d have chosen for a bridal salon. It felt cold and sterile, not inviting in the least.

A priggish woman
stepped out, a wide smile filling her face. This was who Maggie called Darf Vader? She looked nothing like the daunting guy dressed in black I’d seen in pictures. This Vader was completely unintimidating, and dressed entirely in pink. Pink cropped jacket, pink pencil skirt, even pink pumps. Then she smiled. “Dolores Umbridge,” I said under my breath. Maggie’s shoulders shook a little.

“Ms. Brown. So good to see you again.” She greeted Maggie with a stiff hug.

“Hello. This is my friend Lilah. I brought her along to help me decide.” Maggie set her purse down on the cold, dark leather couch.

“Oh.” Darf raked her eyes over me slowly, starting with my black
boots, and working her way up my black calf-length leggings and white tunic. She stopped just a moment to eyeball my black belt with silver studs that hung on my hips. Yeah, too-over-the-top for her.

Darf turned her back to me and stepped up to Maggie, though I could still see her toad-like face in the mirror over Maggie’s shoulder.

Lowering her voice, Darf said, “Dear, maybe you should bring your mother.”

“She’s dead,” Maggie replied in a whisper.

I had the pleasure of watching Darf’s face tighten as if she swallowed a mouth full of sour milk. “I’m sorry. I’m sure your friend will do just fine.”

Darf
sent Maggie into the dressing room with one of her assistants. The prig turned to me and, without saying a word, pointed to a black leather loveseat and black end table across the room. On the table laid a tray of bell-shaped cookies. I sat down and ate way too many amazing cookies. Maggie entered the room as I downed my fourth. I about choked.

I’d never seen a more gorgeous dress. The mermaid style wrapped tight around her body and flared out at her knees with layer upon layer of crimped organza and tulle. A four-foot train trailed behind her. She looked stunning. She also looked miserable. I stepped over next to her.

“My dear, this is the dress. You look so beautiful, does she not?” Darf Vader asked, no doubt rhetorically since she didn’t wait for an answer. “You’ll be the envy of every bride.”

Maggie stepped up onto a platform in front of three mirrors that allowed for a 360 degree view and glowered at her image. “I don’t know. I don’t think it’s right. I mean
, it’s lovely, but…” She just shook her head.

“Tell her how beautiful she looks,” Darf demanded of me.

“She’s right, Maggie. You do look beautiful,” I offered. “However,” I added, causing Darf’s shoulders to tighten. “I get the feeling you’re not too comfortable with this dress.”

“It needs a veil
; you’ll see,” Darf insisted, scurrying off to grab one.

Maggie looked at me and mouthed
I hate it
. We both giggled. “Hurry, unzip me.” She spun around and I unzipped the dress. She held it to her petite frame and said, “This dress is $7,400. She’s been trying to ram it down my throat for two weeks now.”

“What dress do
you
want?” I asked. I followed her eyes to a simple, yet elegant dress hanging on a discount rack near the back.

I ran to the rack, grabbed the dress, and rushed Maggie back into the dressing room. I made it back to the black sofa as Darf came trotting by, her arms loaded down with lace and tulle. “Where did she go?” she asked, glancing around.

“She’s trying on another dress.” I smiled.

“Yes, of course. I did put two gowns in the dressing room. They’re both lovely.” She laid the veils gently across the loveseat and waited.

Maggie entered the room a few moments later, appearing angelic. The dress had a simple empire waist and looked undeniably elegant on her. And perfect. Embroidered flowers trailed down the tulle skirt and encircled the bottom. The light in the room caught the delicate diamond beading on the bodice and twinkled, but it was her face that caught my eyes. She glowed.

“What do you think?” she asked with trepidation. “You don’t look as if you like it.”

“Maggie, you look lovely, absolutely lovely. You’ll be the envy of every bride,” I mimicked Darf, only I meant it.

She laughed.

“Oh no, dearie, this is too . . . I don’t know, too simple for you. You want all eyes to be on you. You want everyone in the room to gasp in envy. This dress will never do,” Darf assured her.

“And the fact that it cost
s only $249 has nothing to do with your opinion at all?” I pressed the woman. Her eyes pinched a little, but she remained silent.

“What are you going to do with your hair?” I asked.

That broke Darf’s short-lived silence. “I think this veil would be perfect.” She placed an elaborate veil with an even more elaborate headpiece attached to it on Maggie’s head. It was a beautiful veil, very expensive, and completely wrong.

“I disagree, it competes with the dress,” I stated.

“I’ve been matching young women with wedding dresses and veils longer than you’ve been alive, dear. I do believe I know a little more than you,” she murmured over the top of her pink glasses. “Now, if you pull her hair up like this. . .” she said, pulling Maggie’s pathetic hair up on top of her head away from her face.

“I still don’t like it,” I said simply.
             

“Well, you’re not the bride,” snipped the woman. “What do you think, Maggie?” She looked at Maggie sternly.

“I agree with Lilah. It’s too much with this dress,” she said.

The saleswoman sneered
. “Fine, I’ll try something else.” She stomped away to find another veil.

“Thanks,” Maggie whispered.

“I don’t think Darf took it too well.”

“
Darth
,” she corrected with a giggle.

Darth
returned with several more veils, each one as expensive as or more than the first, and each one not right for the dress. When she left to get more, I rummaged through a display of tiaras. I grabbed a simple one, lightly encrusted with diamonds, and few diamond and pearl studded twisty clips that sat in a basket on the counter, and took them over to Maggie.

“What about this?” I placed the simple diamond tiara on her head, keeping most of her hair down. I randomly twisted in the pearl and diamond twists throughout her hair. She looked beautiful. I slowly turned her toward the mirror and her mouth dropped open.

“That’s perfect,” she exclaimed, turning her head from side to side.

“Your hairdresser will do a better job of placing them more evenly, and she can add some curls here and here,” I explained, showing her what I meant. “You can add a little tulle if you want and tuck it in the back here.” I pointed to the backside. “I think this is exactly right for this dress, and it’s on clearance, only twenty dollars. Darth’s going to flip out,” I warned her, “making this all the better choice.”

The woman returned again with another armful of overly expensive veils, stopping dead when she saw Maggie.

“What do you think?” I asked, daring her to deny how great Maggie looked.

“It looks good, but I think one of these will look even better,” Darth said, in an even tone.

“No,” Maggie said, firmly. “I like this, but thanks anyway.” Darth’s mouth flapped open twice, as she clutched her ridiculously expensive veils to her chest before turning and storming off to put them back on the overpriced rack. I helped Maggie take out the tiara and clips, and she changed out of her dress.

“Seth’s going to love the dress,” I assured her as we left the shop with everything in a handy garment bag.

“Seth would love anything I wore. If I walk
ed down the aisle naked he’d tell me I look beautiful,” she said with a grin.

“I’ll bet he
prefers
you walk down the aisle naked.” We laughed.

“Thanks, Lilah. It’s nice having another female to bounce ideas off. I hated trying to pick out a dress and veil on my own. Fashion is definitely not my strong suit. I usually don’t let people like that push me around, but with my limited fashion know-how, I just wasn’t sure.”

We walked around the building toward the parking lot. “I was married once. My mom wasn’t around, either. I wish she could have helped me pick out a dress,” I explained, surprised at my own candor.

“I’m guessing it didn’t work out?”

“Nope. We met while living in a commune . . . long story,” I said, shaking my head. “We’d only known each other two days before we got married. Spontaneous and foolish,” I insisted. “I won’t make that mistake again. Besides, I want the fun of planning a wedding, down to the last boutonniere. Like I said, I love fashion, especially if you can get a bargain.” I pointed to the black boots I had on. “These? I got them at a second hand store. They’re designer and cost me nine dollars.”

“You’re kidding me
.” Maggie eyed my boots.

“They’re not the newest fashion, mind you. This shirt probably goes back two seasons. The tights I got at Wal-Mart a year ago, but they still look great.”

“Okay, you’re going shopping with me for my honeymoon outfits. That’s if Seth ever tells me where we are going.”

“He hasn’t told you yet?”

“He wants to surprise me, but he’s going to have to give me hints so I know what to pack,” she said, stopping dead. I almost ran into the back of her.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, seeing her eyes and mouth tighten.

“See that girl crossing the parking lot toward us?” I glanced up to see a pretty girl with long strawberry blonde hair strutting our way.

“Yup. Let me guess, she’s a little too good for just about everyone on the planet,” I said as she drew near.

“Hillary thinks she’s too good for everyone, except Seth.”

Ah, now I understood completely. The girl strolled straight up to Maggie. Her sneer darkened her otherwise pretty features.

“I heard you and Seth moved the date up. So when’s the baby due?” Her eyes dropped to Maggie’s stomach.

“Three months. You can’t even tell.” Without missing a beat, Maggie twisted sideways and rubbed her flat tummy.

“I knew it. The only way he’d marry someone like you would be if you were pregnant. Melody tried to tell me I was wrong.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder, grinning smugly.

This girl got under my skin faster than anyone I’d ever met. Her smug smile, the lofty way she carried her head screamed, ‘I’m better than you.’ Not being a patient person to begin with, her condescending tone pushed me over the edge. “Excuse me. My name is Lilah. Have we met?”

Hillary gave me the once over, lingering on my designer footwear and handbag. Her dark face lightened. Clearly I met with her approval.

“Hillary Jeffers.” she said boldly, as if it should mean something to me.

“Hillary Jepson?” I said, just to bother her.

“Jeffers. As in Jeffers Automotive, and Jeffers Antiques.”

“And the Jeffers Pawn Shop,” I asked. “Over on Main Street, next to the gas station, right?” The place was a seedy little dive. I’d driven by daily on my way to the hospital.