CHAPTER EIGHTY–THREE–When All Is Said and Done
The aroma of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee filled the apartment as Laura and Jessie bustled around their small kitchen. It was Saturday morning, and they were indulging in their weekly ritual of a lazy, home–cooked breakfast.
“Pass the eggs, would you?” Laura asked, whisking pancake batter in a large bowl.
Jessie slid the carton across the counter. “Here you go, chef. How many pancakes are you planning to make? Enough to feed an army?” Laura grinned. “Hey, don’t judge. You know how I get when I’m stressed. Cooking helps.”
“Fair enough,” Jessie conceded, flipping the bacon. “Though I’m not sure how many more wedding–induced stress pancakes I can eat before I explode.”
Laura was about to retort when her phone buzzed loudly on the counter. She glanced at the screen and froze.
“It’s Julia,” she said, her voice tight.
Jessie raised an eyebrow. “The bride–to–be? On a Saturday morning? Don’t tell me she’s got another crisis.”
Laura sighed and answered the call. “Hello?”
“Laura! Thank God you picked up!” Julia’s voice was high–pitched and frantic. “I need your help. It’s an emergency!”
Laura’s stomach clenched. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”
“No, everything is not okay!” Julia walled. “The boutique called. They had a cancellation and can squeeze me in for an emergency fitting this morning. But Melissa, my maid of honor, is out of town for a bachelorette party. I need someone there with me. Please, Laura, can you come?”
Laura hesitated, looking at Jessie, who was watching her with concern. “I don’t know, Julia. It’s kind of short notice…” “Please,” Julia besped.
begged. “I can’t do this alone. I need someone there to give me an honest opinion. You’re the only one I trust.”
Laura closed her eyes, already regretting what she was about to say, “Okay, Julia. I’ll be there. What time?”
“The appointment’s at 10. Thank you so much, Laura. You’re a lifesaver!”
As Laura hung up, Jessie shook her head. “You’re too nice for your own good, you know that?”
Laura shrugged, turning off the stove. “What was I supposed to say? She sounded desperate.”
“You could have said no,” Jessie pointed out. “You’re not obligated to drop everything for her.”
“I know,” Laura sighed. “But I’m part of the wedding party now. I should help if I can.”
Jessie gave her a sympathetic look. “Alright, but don’t let her walk all over you. And save me some of those pancakes for later!”
An hour later, Laura found herself stepping into Blissful Brides, one of the most exclusive bridal boutiques in the city. The interior was all cream–colored walls and plush white carpets, with crystal chandeliers casting a soft glow over racks of pristine white gowns.
Julia was already there, pacing nervously in the waiting area. When she spotted Laura, relief washed over her face.
“Laura! You made it!” She rushed over, grabbing Laura’s hands. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’m freaking out.”
Laura squeezed her hands reassuringly. “It’s okay, Julia. We’ll figure this out. What exactly is the problem?”
Before Julia could answer, a tall, elegantly dressed woman approached them “Ms. Florent? I’m Vivian, the owner. We’re ready for you
now.”
They followed Vivian to a spacious fitting room, where several dresses were already laid out.
“Now,” Vivian began, “I understand you’re having some doubts about your original dress choice?”
Julia nodded vigorously. “Yes, I just… I’m not sure it’s the one anymore. I’ve been looking at so many bridal magazines, and now I’m second–guessing everything.”
Vivian smiled patiently. “That’s perfectly normal, dear. Why don’t we start by trying on your original choice again?”
As Julia disappeared behind the changing screen with an assistant, Vivian turned to Laura. “And you are…?”
“Laura McKenna. I’m… a friend of the bride and groom.”
Vivian nodded, but before she could say more, Julia emerged in a stunning mermaid–style gown with intricate lace detailing
CHAPTER EIGHTY THREE–When All is Sad and Done
“Well?” Julia demanded, twirling in front of the mirror. “What do you think?”
Laura opened her mouth to respond, but Julia cut her off.
“Actually, don’t answer that. I already know. It’s all wrong!” She tugged at the fabric in frustration. “The neckline is too low, the train. is too long, and this lace….it’s just not me anymore.”
Vivian stepped forward, her voice soothing. “Alright, Ms. Florent. Why don’t we try something different? Perhaps an A–line silhouette?
The next hour passed in a whirlwind of tulle, silk, and increasingly frayed nerves. Julia tried on dress after dress, finding fault with each one.
“This makes me look fat.”
“The beading is tacky.”
“I feel like a cupcake in this.”
“Is this the best you have?”
I
With each rejection, Vivian’s smile grew tighter, and the boutique staff looked increasingly frazzled. Laura found herself playing peacemaker, trying to smooth things over.
“Julia,” she said gently after the sixth dress, “maybe we should take a break? Get some water?”
But Julia shook her head, her eyes wild. “No, we can’t stop now. The wedding is in two months, Laura. Two months! I need to find the perfect dress today!”
As Julia disappeared to try on yet another gown, Laura turned to Vivian. “I’m so sorry about this. She’s just… under a lot of stress.”
