Little Gray Dress Page 4

  She puts the ball gown back onto the crowded dress rack and pulls out a smaller bag next to it. “This one is where I got the inspiration for you girls’ bridesmaids’ dresses.” The feathers spill out before I can notice anything else: pastel pink, gray and white feathers from just above her knees all the way to the bottom. If there was a giant feathered headpiece with it I’d think she was performing on Broadway or with the Rockettes. “Isn’t it gorgeous?”

  “It’s feathery. Is this one for the reception?” Boy is it ever feathery, like a Las Vegas showgirl. I can’t even picture what a row of bridesmaids will look like, all of us being feathered from the knees down. I would think she would want something unique, not more feathers for her reception. But then again, Hannah has always been full of unexpected decisions.

  “Yes. It reminds me of a vintage party dress, so it’s just so fitting, don’t you think?”

  “I do.” I hate it, but I do think it’s fitting. Now I know what we’ll look like: insane. We will be one of those bridal parties that are pictured on-line, in a What Not To Do To Your Bridesmaids article that lives on the internet for years to come.

  Lily walks in holding a glass of wine and stops dead in her tracks two feet inside the door.

  “Holy shit, what is this? You opened a bridal store in your house?” There is the Lily I know and love.

  “No!” Hannah yells at her and points towards the hallway. “No wine in here, it would just ruin everything if it spilled.”

  I watch Lily slowly back out of the room, eyes big and eyebrows raised. That was quick, her completely offending Hannah only an hour into our trip. I thought it would take her at least till later tonight. “I’m sure you’re losing your buzz, Ems.” She rolls her eyes at me “You should come have a glass.” She nods towards the stairs trying to convince me to come downstairs with her for a glass of wine. Like it would take much to persuade me.

  “Sure.” I look over at Hannah who is nodding her head at me.

  I follow the two of them down the grand staircase and into their open-plan living room and kitchen. One full wall is gray stone with a huge fireplace in the center. All the furniture is stark white, the walls are white, the curtains are white, the decorations are variations of white. The room merges into a wall of the kitchen with an island almost the full length of the room. Again everything is white, except the stainless-steel appliances.

  “My God, how do you keep this clean?” I ask them, glad it’s not mine.

  “I have no idea. I have a lady who does it daily.” Hannah pours herself a glass of pink champagne before hopping up onto one of the metal barstools that sit just below her white sparkly quartz island counter.

  “What is your life?” I ask my brother who is sitting on the counter holding a beer. “My whole apartment could fit in this room alone.”

  “I don’t know why. It’s not like you don’t have money.”

  He’s right. When our parents died, they left us enough money that neither of us would’ve had to work for a good ten years even after paying off our student loans and college debt. I do have money, but after looking at this house I don’t know if he will much longer. He and Hannah appear to have very rich tastes. They bought the house right after the last time I saw them both. I’ve seen pictures and I knew it was fancy, but I never ever expected this fancy.

  It’s at moments like these, when I’m with my coupled-up happy friends, that I find my mind wandering to what Jack and I might have been like if we’d made it all the way down the aisle. What would the wedding have actually been like? Would we be happy? Would I have ever caught him doing his assistant, or would I have lived forever in blissful ignorance?

  Chapter Four

  Two and a Half Years Ago

  Downtown Portland, Oregon

  The Wedding Planning

  “How many people are on your guest list?”

  Megan, the girl I’ve hired as our wedding planner, is sitting with a huge schedule book in front of her covered in a rainbow of sticky notes. Every time I give her a number or idea she writes it in three places: the pastel pink notepad at her right side, the notes section of the day planner, and then she quickly taps it into her opened laptop.

  “Just over three hundred invitations need to be sent out. I doubt that many will come, but my fiancé is from… uh… money…”

  “Socialites?”

  “Yes. Rich socialites that know everyone in town. That’s a good definition.”

  “No problem. Did you have a theme or colors picked?”

  “A theme?”

  “Yeah, a lot of couples pick a theme for the wedding and that’s where we get our colors, decoration ideas, and venue from. It really sets a tone for the wedding.”

  “Well, I don’t know. I’m gonna be honest with you…” I pause – not to intentionally be dramatic, but because anytime I tell someone this I get a gasp, moan or hanging jaw. “I was never the girl who was planning out her wedding or her Prince Charming. I never really cared about any of this. But because I’m marrying into this particular family, I’m expected to throw this seriously over-the-top wedding, and I have no idea what I need or want.”

  Megan’s mouth drops open and her eyebrows pinch together like she’s confused, or maybe constipated. “You never dressed up and played bride, or bought bridal magazines?”

  “Nope.”

  “How weird! But don’t worry, I did, and I know everything about weddings. I’ll make sure yours is fabulous.” She smiles over at me before jotting down a note in each of her three devices.

  “Just to throw a couple ideas out there… We could do an elegant, traditional red carpet style party, or we could wait until winter and do a winter wonderland type wedding, or we could do something vintagey, Great Gatsby style.” She stares up at me, pen ready to jot down anything I say.

  “The vintage one sounds good. As long as it’s not like a Hallowe’en party.”

  “No, we’re just stealing the idea of it, not the actual theme of it. It’ll be gorgeous. Trust me.”

  “I do. I should warn you, though, my future mother-in-law is Amelia Cabot.”

  “Oh. Wow.” Megan takes a deep breath.

  “Yeah, but she tends to like to do things her way. When I’m done here she’s going to drill me on what went on and insist that I give her your number so she can get you her ideas. Just so you know, you don’t have to do anything she says unless you think it’s a good idea. But like I said, I’m pretty clueless.”

  “So, you want her to help with the planning?”

  “If she comes up with something fitting then I don’t mind. But put your sassy pants on and be able to tell her no, because she is a bit… demanding.”

  She lets out a small groaning sigh. “I know all about her. I’ve heard horror stories from other event planners. I’ll stand my ground, though. You have nothing to worry about.”

  But the suddenly discouraged look on her face tells me she could be nervous about meeting the great Amelia Cabot. I don’t blame her. I once witnessed Amelia fire a waitress at an event she threw because she dropped and broke an entire box filled with unopened expensive bottles of wine in the middle of the party, after tripping over someone’s dog that was running loose. Who lets a tiny dog run loose at a swanky party? Rich people who don’t have kids, that’s who.

  “So, I will get started on a proposal tonight and we can meet up on…” She flips through her book quickly and scans her computer screen. “Can you meet me Saturday? At my office? I’ll have samples and outlines for you to go over with me, and we’ll make a lot of the bigger decisions right then.”

  “Absolutely, it’s a date.” I grab my purse and coffee from the table ready to be done with wedding planning for the day.

  “Oh, and Emi…” She touches my hand as I start to leave the table. “Keep your whole day free because we’ll go look at venues that day too.”

  “OK. Can I bring Jack with me?”

  “For sure. Actually, if he wants a say you’d better bring him t
o everything.”

  “Everything, OK. Thank you so much, Megan.”

  I don’t know if Jack will go to every planner appointment with me, but if I should have to suffer all this just to get married, he should have to as well. It’s not fair that men don’t have to do anything for the wedding but show up, yet women are expected to be frazzled, irritated and short on time for months on end for something that’s over in a single day.

  “I need to come to everything?” Jack asks later that night as we fall into our nightly routine of dinner on the couch while watching Drunk History on Hulu.

  “Well… maybe not everything, but some stuff, yeah. I can’t do it by myself.”

  “What about Lily? I’m sure she’d be a better opinion on this kind of stuff than me.”

  “You don’t care about the details of the wedding?” I tease him but I know that it’s true. Men don’t care. And if they say they do, they’re either lying or gay.

  “Not all the details, no. As long as we don’t get married in a graveyard or someplace totally weird, I don’t really care where it is.”

  “What I’m hearing is that I could come back here Saturday evening and say I chose Thornbury Castle in England, and you wouldn’t wonder what it cost?” Not that this would ever happen. The only reason I know the name of this particular wedding venue is because I’ve been watching far too many wedding reality shows whilst trying to get into the groove of planning a wedding. The Cinderella wedding may be most girls’ dream, but it isn’t mine.

  “You’re not, are you?” He pauses with his fork midway to his mouth realizing that I could really throw a million-dollar wedding with completely free reins.

  “No. But I could if you aren’t interested. I just need a bit of help. I’m not good at this stuff.”

  “I know. Look… Pick anywhere in the city. I think a city wedding would be fun. Since neither of us are country-dwellers I think that would portray the two of us. I’ll come check it out with you this weekend. And otherwise, let’s just try to keep it under a hundred thousand. Deal?”

  A hundred-thousand-dollar wedding almost makes me hyperventilate to even just think about. Who spends that much on a wedding? I was thinking even twenty-five thousand seemed too much for a one-day event.

  “I gave your mom's number to the wedding planner.” I take a swig of my wine without looking at his reaction to the news I’ve just tossed over at him. I know his mom planning our wedding is not something he would have expected.

  “What?”

  “Jack, you know she’d just find a way to her eventually anyway. I was thinking about it on the way home and she’s so much better at this stuff than me, so why not just let her do it?”

  “You’re just going to hand over the wedding planning to my mother?” His brows are raised and his voice tight.

  “Well, no. I mean… maybe.” I shrug my shoulders. I didn’t really think it through all the way, but I know I’ve been to Amelia’s parties and they are the parties everyone dies to get an invite to. “I just thought she’d have such better ideas than me.”

  “You’re a brave girl, Ems. My mother is going to turn this into a reality TV show.” He shakes his head as a disbelieving laugh hesitates just under his breath.

  “But it’ll be the kind on the E! channel, and that’s not terrible all the time.” I laugh, knowing how much he hates watching the Kardashians with me for the few moments he allows it before taking control of the remote and changing it to something a little less mind-numbing.

  He leans over and kisses my lips quickly before going back to his dinner. “I hope you’re ready.”

  How bad could it be? Amelia is one of the most elite women in the city, and if she throws a party, not one invite is turned down. She’ll make this wedding beautiful, elegant, and probably way over the top. And I won’t have to do a thing. In fact, to tell the truth, I doubt she’ll let me have much say at all.

  “Oh, great! You brought Jack and Amelia.” Megan immediately looks more nervous now than she did the day of our interview. “It’s so great to meet you both.” She shakes their hands as if she’s just met Portland royalty. Hardly. I don’t think rich qualifies you as important. Or does it?

  “Yes…” Amelia and I speak at the same time.

  “We are excited to see what kind of ideas you have for us.” Amelia sits in one of the two chairs facing Megan’s office desk.

  “I have so many ideas. Let’s get started.”

  I glance at the one chair left and back at Jack who looks as uncomfortable as I am.

  “Sit,” he says to me before leaning on Megan’s desk beside me.

  “OK.” Megan sounds enthusiastic before pointing towards the board with a gazillion fabrics, photos, and ideas. “Here is my idea, and feel free to stop me with any questions as we go.”

  For almost thirty minutes Megan continues to talk about venues, colors, food, flowers, souvenirs, photographers, and music. Who knew you needed so many things to have a wedding? I am kind of thinking eloping might be the way to go. All these options may too easily find a way to become disastrous.

  “What do you think? Is there anything you hate or love?”

  “I’ll start.” Amelia stands from her chair and faces the idea board head-on. Jack and I exchange nervous smiles and prepare ourselves to watch what’s about to unfold before us. This is it, this moment will define the wedding.

  “I love the Vintage Gatsby theme, but let’s not do it so costume party-ish. Dress the part, yes, but with a modern take, black tie. The flowers should be white, no other colors will work, all white. Linens, white and black. Main wedding colors, black and white, maybe with a bit of gold thrown in. I want full-out decor, from ceiling to floor it should all match our theme. If we’re going with a vintage theme I want the music to match, hire a big band, Sinatra-style. I have a caterer I’ll give a call to today, we can do a menu of choices for dinner and dessert and cocktail hour will not take place in the same room as the reception. No hard liquor, let’s do a Champagne bar with a signature drink of each the bride and groom’s choices.” She glances over at Jack and me. “What do you think?”

  I feel myself nodding yes, unable to process all that she’s just said. She throws these kinds of parties all the time, so I imagine (even though I can’t picture it) it will be without a doubt the wedding of the year.

  When I glance over at Jack he shrugs his shoulders at me and nods yes with a small questionable smile. “Sure, it sounds great.”

  Amelia glances down at me again. “And for you?”

  “Yes, Amelia it’s all wonderful. I say yes.”

  “Perfect.” She turns to Megan and the two of them start jotting things on the board, Megan typing frantically into her phone as well. “Leave it to me, kids, and we’ll have this planned in no time.”

  “Maybe we should sneak out?” Jack whispers into my ear, his breath on my neck giving me chills. Even though we’ve been together just over four years he still takes my breath away. “They don’t really need us,” he adds, before backing towards the door.

  Really? I mouth over at him, standing slowly from my chair. He nods and turns the door knob slowly, letting the door open without even as much as a click.

  I know it’s wrong to sneak out of my own wedding planning meeting, but I really can’t help at this point and Amelia clearly has it under control. They haven’t looked at us or even run by an idea in a couple of minutes, so I’m thinking my work here is done. I tiptoe over to the open door where Jack is now standing just outside.

  “Emi?” Amelia suddenly calls my name.

  I quickly turn towards her and see Jack disappear against the hallway wall out of my side-eye view.

  “No need to look at venues today, I’ve already booked the Hilton Exec Tower for July the fifth.” She smiles with a nod.

  “Oh, you chose the date too?” I look over at Jack standing just out of sight of his mother. He gives me a told you so look.

  “Of course,” Amelia waves a hand at me. “You ki
ds go do whatever it is you need to do and I’ll take care of this.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel like you’re doing everything.”

  “It’s not a bother! My only son is getting married, I’m just thankful to be a part of it.”

  I bet she wouldn’t be if I didn’t let her plan the entire thing.

  “OK then,” I say, then I glance at Megan. She is staring at Amelia, who has taken over the planning board and has a wide-eyed deer-in-the-headlights look on her face. Obviously this is not what she originally signed up for, but if she can succeed in planning a wedding for the great Amelia Cabot then she might earn herself the business of Portland’s richest of rich.

  I walk out of the doorway to have Jack quickly grab my hand and lead me to the street outside. “I told you she’d take over.”

  “What day is July the fifth anyway?” I pull out my phone and scroll six months into the future. “Well, at least it’s a Saturday.”

  “The wedding is well cared for.” He laughs.

  “I really don’t need to do anything, do I?”

  “Maybe pick your own dress, I hope, and show up for appointments?”

  “Did I do the wrong thing?” I bite my lip and stop walking, pulling Jack to a stop with me. “Is it going to end up being not us, and more…” I sigh. “Your mother?”

  “No. She knows us. She thinks of you as a daughter, she’d never intentionally do anything you wouldn’t like. You know that. Now come on… Let’s go grab a coffee, we’ve got a whole Saturday to ourselves.”

  “OK.” Coffee could lead me anywhere. The truth of the matter is, Jack could lead me anywhere. As a kid I never pictured myself getting married, so seeing myself marrying Jack at a mystery wedding that my future mother-in-law is planning is kind of like the dream I never had. Even though I’ve seen the plans with her, I honestly don’t know what to expect. Will I hate it? Will there even be anyone there I know?

  “It’s gonna be great, Ems. Just like you.” He kisses my lips, waking me up from the dream of the nightmare this could become.