I Do (17 page)

She folded the paper and set it aside. “No charge,” she said with a grin.

“No charge?”

“Nope. It's already been approved.”

“Seriously?”

“That's right. You have a lot of fans here, Caitlin. It didn't take any arm twisting for them to decided to give you this.”

“Wow, thanks.”

I went to find my mom and tell her the good news. But here's what's strange. I have this checkbook with a pretty large amount of cash available, and so far I haven't spent a cent. How weird is that?

But here's the really fun part: After we got home, my mom disappeared up into her “mysterious” craft room, which she hasn't been letting me into. And in just a short while she returned, victoriously holding up an envelope.

“Open it up,” she said.

I flipped it over to see a pale pink wax seal with a dove embossed into it.

“That's pretty,” I told her as I popped open the still-warm seal and removed what I knew to be an invitation. But the plain white folded card looked a little more interesting, because it was tied with a narrow piece of pale pink satin ribbon with a dainty little bow in front. I untied the bow and opened the invitation to see that just a bit of color had been added–some faint green along the vine and a pale dot of pink on the rose.

Not only that, but she'd cut a piece of pale pink
tissue with some kind of fancy edge cutter that fit perfectly inside. I looked at Mom as if she were a genius. “This is incredible.” I hugged her. “You're brilliant.”

“And it didn't take long to do.”

“But do you really have time to do this to all of them?”

“I don't see why not. They don't all need to be done at once. We still have at least six weeks before they even need to be sent.”

“I can't wait to show Josh this,” I told her. “And his mom! I mean, these look so special with hand-done calligraphy and hand-painted watercolors, and the ribbons–and all for free!”

“Well, I'll have to buy some more ribbon,” she said. “But that's still not much to pay for such lovely invitations.”

The next day, Josh's mother invited Mom and me to meet her in the city for lunch and shopping. “I've found something that you really must see,” she told me in an excited voice. “It's the most wonderful new section of shops that recently opened close to the law office.”

“Wedding dress shops?” I asked with great fear and trepidation. I really hate to lie, but I was ready to tell her anything (like I'm having liposuction surgery) to get out of another wedding dress nightmare with her.

“No, I already learned that lesson. These are some lovely design shops and florists and candy and whatnot. I think you might find some things for the wedding.

There's one shop with the most amazing little chocolates
wrapped in handmade paper that would make lovely wedding favors for your reception.”

And since I could think of no good excuse and I didn't want to lie, plus this is, after all, my husband-to-be's mom, I finally agreed.

“It's not such a bad idea,” said my mom, after I called her and invited her to drive me over there. “Just remember you don't actually have to buy anything, since I'm guessing these shops will be expensive. But we could get some ideas.”

So we went into the city and met Joy at this little French restaurant for a light lunch. She hadn't seen the invitations yet, so I decided to get her reaction in person.

“You have to understand that they're not fancy, but on the other hand, they are virtually free. And the calligraphy was hand-done by an artist and–”

“Why not just skip the disclaimer and let me look at it,” she said in a no-nonsense voice. So I handed her the envelope. I'd used my best handwriting to address it to her and Stan, and Mom had sealed it with wax. We both watched, and I think I may have held my breath as she opened it. She carefully examined everything inside, then looked up at us and smiled. “You did this for free?”

I nodded. “Do you think it'll be okay?”

“I think it's very nice. And it may not be as elegant as the embossed ones, but let's get real. Most people look at these invitations once, write the date on their calendar, and then throw them away.”

So I was hugely relieved. But then we began looking at the specialty shops, and it wasn't long before I was overwhelmed with things like real flowers versus silk flowers, and beeswax candles versus dripless, and oh so many other things. Fortunately, my mom brought along a little notebook and was making notes. And I actually think she got some ideas too. So all in all the time wasn't a complete waste.

“Have you registered for your china and silver yet?” Joy asked as we were about ready to depart.

Now I knew this question was coming. I've heard about this practice from the brides' magazines. You go to some fancy store and pick out the patterns for your fine china and silver. Then you expect your poor unsuspecting wedding guests to fork over big bucks to buy it for you, have it wrapped, and bring it to your wedding. Call me old-fashioned or even crazy, but isn't that a little presumptuous, not to mention downright greedy? And whatever happened to people just buying the kind of gifts that they want?

Besides that, I just don't see Josh and me using fragile china and costly silverware down in the mission in Mexico. I may be weird, but I honestly think something more durable and inexpensive would be perfectly fine. Maybe even something from Target. Still, I haven't told a single soul about these wedding-renegade thoughts, and I hated to subject poor Joy to this now. Seriously, she must think I'm the cheapest, most boring future daughter-in-law on the planet.

“Uh, no,” I told her, glancing at my mom and probably hoping for a little moral support.

“Well, you should start thinking about it.” She looked at her watch. “It would be a fun thing for you and Josh to do together. Maybe you should have a date this week and see if you like the same things.” She laughed. “I still remember how Stan and I couldn't agree on china. Finally, we compromised, but then it turned out that neither one of us really liked the dishes. I ended up giving them away a few years ago.”

I nodded as if this made sense, but if anything it seems to confirm that my concerns about this are valid. So I spoke to Josh that same evening, and he couldn't see any sense in registering for something we had no intention of using. But when I told my mom this, she didn't exactly agree.

“If you're down in Mexico for a while, you might not use it at first, but you might want to use it someday.” She got kind of a dreamy look. “I remember having special dinners with your dad, back before you were born. I'd get out the good china and light candles and it would be so romantic.”

Okay, I guess that does sound somewhat appealing. I just don't know for sure. But I don't have to decide about this yet.

Once again, it was a relief
to get back to my controlled life of school and classes. I think I really do like routines. I'd even missed our nightly weigh-in, which is still on track. I've lost ten pounds, and Jenny has put on about the same. We joke that we've been trading, like it comes off me, floats through the air, and winds up on her. Yeah, if it were only that easy.

But I must admit that already I'm feeling much better. I can fit back into my old jeans, and although I still have to lose that other five pounds, I'm in the best shape I've been in since high school. I guess I don't even care if I take off the last five or not.

But here's what's got me concerned tonight. Beanie called from New York this afternoon, and she's doing great. But she'd gotten this idea into her head, and I don't think there's anything I can do to dissuade her.

“Have you gotten your dress yet?” she asked after I'd barely said hello.

“No, I can't find anything that seems just right.”

“Good.”

“Good? I thought you were my friend.”

“Good because I want to help you with this.”

“Did you find a dress?” I asked eagerly, suddenly remembering that this girl is living on Fashion Boulevard.

“No, I haven't found one, but I'd like to make one.”

“Oh, Beanie, that's a lot of–”

“Hear me out first. My spring project is supposed to be a wedding dress, Caitlin! Can you believe that?”

“I, uh, yeah…” Suddenly I was imagining myself walking down the aisle in some dramatic one-of-a-kind Beanie creation, and I was just not comfortable with that image.

“I want to do this for you, Caitlin. You've got to let me.”

“But I don't know.”

“Please. I already know what it's going to look like. Well, mostly.”

“Can you tell me about it?”

“No, it has to be a surprise.”

“Why?”

“Because I don't want you to mess with my muse.”

“Your muse?”

“It's as if I could see this dress, Caitlin, kind of like when you saw the wedding. If I tell you about it, you might try to change something, and then it would vanish
in a puff of smoke. And this is my term project, it has to turn out perfectly.”

Well, what might be perfect for Beanie would not necessarily be perfect for me, and I was about to say forget it, but then I thought of something. “You have to create a wedding dress?”

“That's right.”

“So, even if I didn't use it, you'd be designing it anyway?”

“Yes.”

Now I was thinking maybe I could just go along with her plan and see how the dress turned out. It wasn't as if I'd found the right dress yet anyway. “Well, okay,” I finally told her.

“I'm so glad. You're going to love it, Caitlin. I promise.”

“And you know what the bridesmaids' dresses look like…”

“Yes, and yours will look perfect with them.”

“This is going to be interesting.” I was actually thinking more like scary, but I'm pretty sure I said interesting.

Okay, I hate to admit it, but I'm actually starting to worry about my wedding dress now. Sure, it would be wonderful if Beanie could design something I'd like, but it just seems highly unlikely. I mean, if I haven't found a dress after trying on dozens and dozens, how could she possibly make one that I'd like?

Maybe I'm just too picky. I'd like to think that I'd be content with whatever Beanie comes up with. She is my best friend, and I should be able to trust her with this.
But of all the pieces of this wedding, I guess I think the dress is the most important.

I can't even believe I haven't found the right one yet. Not only that, but I've been wondering about the one I let go. I mean, it's like I'm saving so much money on this wedding, I might've actually been able to afford it. But then how would I feel to be wearing that kind of money down the aisle?

Suddenly I envision a gown made of money. I'm sure if you took two thousand dollar bills and stapled them together, there'd be more than enough for a gown and train. But how would I feel wearing it? And why would wearing a dress that costs that much be any different? Oh, dear, I think I'm working myself into a panic. The only thing to do is pray.

It figures. Both my mom and Josh's mom are alarmed that I plan to wear Beanie's class project down the aisle. I wish I hadn't even told them. It's not that they don't think Beanie can make a perfectly nice wedding gown. They just feel the chances of me liking it will be like winning the lottery. Even Jenny is skeptical. Josh seems to be the only one who's fairly laid-back about it. Finally, I had to ask him why that was.

“I trust you, Caitlin.”

“You trust me?” I studied his face. “But Beanie's the one making the dress.”

“Yes, but if you agreed, then you must feel confident she can pull this off. And so I trust you.”

“But what if it ends up being some strange-looking concoction with bobbles and butterflies and a fifty-foot train?”

He smiled. “You'd still be beautiful.”

And so I figure if Josh is okay with this, I can be okay. After all, I did commit this to God. Probably the best thing would be to put it out of my mind. Even so, I did call Beanie last night. I told her it was because I wanted to know what I should do about the veil.

“What do you want to do?” she said sleepily, and suddenly I remembered she was on east coast time and I'd probably awakened her.

“I'm not sure.”

“Well, I have a veil designed that goes with the
dress. But if you have something else picked out…”

“No, I haven't really seen any that I like that well.”

“Good.”

“Sorry to wake you up, Beanie.”

“That's okay.” Now there was a long pause, and I almost wondered if she'd fallen back asleep. “Just trust me on this, Caitlin,” she said in a tired voice.

“I'm trying to. But you have to remember this is going to be one of the biggest days of my life. Maybe the biggest. This dress is a huge deal.”

“I know. Just trust me.”

So I told her that I would and to go back to sleep, then I hung up. And really, I know she won't let me down. At least not on purpose.

But I don't need to keep thinking about that. Here's a totally cool thing that happened today. Josh drove me out to see his grandma's farm. And while it's not a real farm with crops and animals, it's a sweet little place in the country with outbuildings and picket fences and chickens that lay real eggs and the most incredible flower gardens. I've never seen anything like it.

“You must really have a green thumb,” I told his grandma. “These flowers are amazing.”

“It's been a good year for the perennials.”