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“I’ll give you some cash, and you can go shopping tomorrow,” Fist tells me as I go back to cooking.
“Thank you. I’ll see if Trixie wants to go with me. We can make it a girl’s day!” I say enthusiastically as I slide a huge roast into the oven.
“Take the truck,” I tell her. “We’ll find you a new car after the wedding.”
I fling my arms around him. “Thank you for being so good to me.”
The rest of the day passes in a happy daze as I make lists in between cooking. There’s a list of wedding dress wants, the menu for the wedding meal, and songs for the reception. Trixie’s working at the strip club today, so I swing by and tell her the good news. She was so excited and couldn’t wait to go shopping with me tomorrow. Once I finished talking with Trixie, I went back to the club and made dinner.
I serve dinner, clean up, and then go lie in bed and imagine all the types of wedding dresses I’m going to try on tomorrow. I fall asleep before Fist joins me, and I wake up the next morning as he’s brushing a kiss over my lips.
“Where are you going?” I mutter sleepily.
“Club business,” he says evasively. “Nothing for you to worry about, sweetness. I left the truck keys and the cash on the table by your purse. Use however much you want. What time are you and Trixie leaving?”
“Nine.” I check the time. “I’ll have just enough time to shower and grab a cup of coffee and one of those applesauce muffins I made yesterday.”
Fist grins. “There’s a few left out of the dozens you made. They’re damn good. I’ll see you later tonight, sweetness. Have a good day.”
“Be careful,” I tell him. After a long, lingering kiss, Fist leaves the room. I roll out of bed and bustle into the bathroom to take a shower. After toweling off and blow-drying my hair, I mix and blend makeup carefully. I want to look nice. Then I go to the closet and find a sundress in bold poppy red. I tug it on, slip my feet into backless tennis shoes, and grab my purse.
Once in the kitchen, I find Trixie already there with two travel mugs of coffee and two muffins on a paper plate. “Ready?” she asks with a grin.
“Absolutely,” I reply. We hurry outside to Fist’s truck and climb in. I let her pick the music, and Bonnie Raitt’s bluesy voice fills the cab, wanting something to talk about. We catch up on small talk and unimportant gossip during the drive. I’m hugging my news to myself, not wanting to tell her until we’re in town.
Finally, we’re pulling into a parking spot and getting out. I wait until we’re standing next to each other on the sidewalk. Then I hold out my left hand and wiggle my fingers so she can get a good look at the ring. Earlier she couldn’t. The diamonds catch the sunlight and sparkle like fire.
Trixie squeals and jumps up and down. “Oh, my god! Oh, my god! Mindi, it’s gorgeous! I’m so happy for you! When? When’s the wedding?”
“Saturday.” I laugh. “Would you like to be my maid of honor?”
“Are you kidding? I’d love to be your maid of honor!” She throws her arms around me, and we sway together in a hug. When we break apart, I feel a shiver race down my spine. Trixie nudges me and nods her head.
I turn to look and find Misty glaring at us from the other side of the street. There’s a look of intense hatred on her face, and her lips are twisted into a snarl. I lift my hand and give her a little finger wave before shooting up my middle finger.
Trixie snorts out a laugh as Misty flounces away. “Sore loser,” she mutters.
“Forget about her,” I reply. “What should we do first? Wedding dress shopping or pedicures?”
“Wedding dress shopping,” she promptly replies. “Then we can rejuvenate our feet with the pedicures.”
“I like the way you think.” I link my arm through hers and lead her in the direction of Big Sky Bridal.
We’re welcomed warmly and offered cups of tea and dainty petit fours while Sasha, my consultant, asks what I’m looking for in a dress. I tell her what I know: because of the time constraint, it’ll have to be a ready-to-go dress with few, if any, needed alterations. I want more simple than ornate.
Sasha nods and tells me she has a few dresses for my consideration. She leaves to grab them while I shed my clothes and wait in the pink robe offered to brides. Before long, she’s back with four options. Dresses one and two are quickly dismissed by both Trixie and myself. Then Sasha zips me into the third dress, and I hear Trixie suck in her breath.
I turn to gaze at myself in the triple mirrors, and my own breath snags in my throat. Tears well in my eyes as I run my fingers down the sides of the dress.
It’s a strapless A-line dress with a straight neckline and a drop of ivory satin with an ivory lace overlay in a simple pattern. There’s a tulle ruffle at the very bottom that brushes against my ankles.
My hands move to cover my mouth. “It’s perfect,” I whisper. “Absolutely perfect.”
Trixie nods in agreement. “It’s beautiful, and you look stunning.”
“No veil,” Sasha says. “I see you in a simple tiara, your hair done in loose curls. Maybe a necklace of diamond drops and earrings to match. Open toe kitten heels dyed to match the dress.”
I nod. “Yes. Yes, to everything. Oh, my god! I’ve found my wedding dress!”
