Loving Bailey (19 page)

“Hi, Summer,” she said, giving her hand a
squeeze. “How’s Abby?”

Abby was anything but quiet. She was an
adorable six-year-old bundle of energy who’d already managed to
charm the entire family, especially Bailey’s dad. Autumn and Summer
didn’t have much family left and the Southerland’s were more than
willing to step in to try to fill in some of the gaps.

“She’s not happy with me, right now,” said
Summer with a wistful smile. “She didn’t understand why the flower
girl didn’t get to go along dress shopping.

“She could come. We can go pick her up at
school,” said Bailey and Taylor nodded.

“Thanks but not this time. Besides Uncle Jude
is picking her up after school.”

“He’s got it all planned out,” said Autumn.
“They’re going for ice cream and then they’re taking Max for
chicken and to the park.”

“Isn’t that backwards?” asked Taylor.

“I mentioned that. They both said ice cream
first was the correct way to do things,” said Autumn. “He’d freak
out if we changed their plans now.”

Watching Jude navigate his relationship with
the little girl who’d wrapped him tight around her finger made
Bailey’s heart swell just thinking about it. If she thought it had
been hard getting a date having him as an older brother, it was
nothing compared to what it would be like for Abby. The Bedford
boys weren’t going to get anywhere near her.

They spent the two hour drive to
Charlottesville talking about flowers, colors and dress styles. By
the time the car pulled up in front of the bridal salon, the air
was thick with estrogen and wedding plans. Rachel stood on the
sidewalk in front of the elegant store looking impatient but happy
to see them.

Bailey smoothed the skirt of her pale blue
sheath dress and tightened her calves, crossing her legs at the
ankle. She looked pretty. She knew she did. Trace had taken special
care to tell her that this morning. It was part of the reason she’d
been late. But looking at Rachel in her perfectly tailored suit,
her blonde hair swept back in an effortless chignon, Bailey felt
travel-worn and disheveled.

A flash of pride in her oldest sister
immediately followed the feeling. She looked like the high powered
executive she was. Rachel might be wound tight and Bailey thought
not as happy as she should be, but she worked hard. She deserved
every bit of success she got. She’d earned it.

The driver opened the curb side door for them
and there was a flurry of hugs on the sidewalk before Rachel took
Autumn by the arm and led her inside the salon. The rest of them
followed behind, filing through the glass paneled wooden doors and
into the most elegantly feminine rooms Bailey had ever seen.

The walls were a pale dove grey over-painted
with a damask pattern in a satin finish, barely visible until the
light hit at just the right angle. The effect added depth and
polish without overwhelming the room. The ebony wood floors might
have seemed stark, but the room was divided into a series of
mirrored alcoves each with its own pale Aubusson rug and petite
Louis XIV settee and chairs

And then there were dresses.

“My God,” whispered Summer, stopping in front
of a silk sheath covered with intricate bead work which somehow
managed to look delicate and gossamer-light instead of heavy. The
silk puddled around the base of the dress dummy with the barest
hint of a train. It was exquisite.

“Exactly,” said Bailey, coming to stand
beside her. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful.
Not in person.”

“I know I haven’t,” said Summer, her eyes
wide.

It was one of dozens of dresses scattered
around the room, each seemingly more beautiful than the others.
Rachel shot Bailey a keep up look over her shoulder and Bailey took
a dumbstruck Summer’s hand, tugging her gently after the rest of
the women.

“Good morning, ladies,” said a pretty young
woman wearing an impeccably tailored yet unobtrusive black dress.
“You must be the Maddox party. My name is Sarah. Which one of you
ladies is my bride?”

“I am,” said Autumn, stepping forward and
offering the woman her hand.

“Autumn, right?” said the sales clerk. “Such
an interesting name. Congratulations on your wedding. I understand
we don’t have a lot of time.”

“Four months,” said Autumn. “We’re getting
married in the fall. Church service with, weather permitting, an
outdoor reception.”

“It’s tight, but we can make that work. Do
you have some idea of the dress you’re looking for?”

She led the women to one of the alcoves and
motioned for them to sit while Autumn pulled a tablet from her bag.
The two women looked at images for a moment, Sarah nodding and
murmuring encouragingly.

“Those styles will look beautiful on you. I
know exactly where to start. Relax, ladies, we’ll be back in a few
minutes.” She led Autumn away and the other women settled in to
wait.

Rachel and Taylor took the chairs, but Bailey
sat on the settee next to Summer. She sensed the other woman could
use a little support. She still looked a little overwhelmed.
Another salesgirl appeared holding a silver tray of champagne
flutes. Bailey snagged two and handed one to Summer, praying the
pale liquid would help settle her nerves. She didn’t know much
about Autumn and Summer’s childhood, but she knew enough from
school to realize it hadn’t been anything like hers. Their mother
and grandmother had both passed already. Bailey thought they had
another sister, but if they did, she didn’t know why she wouldn’t
have come along with them today.

Bailey adored her family but even at the best
of times they were a lot to take. She could see how it might be a
little intimidating for Summer even though they’d never intend for
it to be.

A few minutes later, Autumn came back wearing
a gorgeous fit and flare gown with a sweetheart neckline and lace
overlay, and thoughts of anything but the wedding were pushed
aside. By the fourth dress and second glass of champagne Summer had
visibly relaxed and the five women were laughing and teasing as if
they were all sisters instead of two separate families.

Taylor sucked in her cheeks striking
supermodel poses while Summer sipped champagne and laughed, a sweet
clear sound. Her glass froze halfway to her mouth and Bailey turned
to see what had caught her attention.

Autumn walked in from the dressing room
wearing a dress so beautiful, so perfect for her, it brought tears
to Bailey’s eyes. Summer stood, champagne forgotten, and walked
toward her sister.

“Oh Autumn,” she said, her voice cracking.
“Look at you.” She took her sister’s hand and led her to the
platform in front of the mirror. “My God, you’re so beautiful.”
Tears ran down their cheeks as they stood side by side looking at
Autumn’s reflection in the mirror.

The dress was satin with a Chantilly lace
overlay and a fitted bodice, boat neck and three-quarter length
sleeves. The back of the bodice dipped in a deep V to a plain white
band belting the skirt which flared, buoyed by a stack of
crinolines in a pink so pale it was almost white. The skirt stopped
about a foot from the floor – long enough to be formal but perfect
for an outdoor reception.

“I love it,” said Autumn through her
tears.

The Southerland women were on their feet
encircling the sisters, crying and murmuring words of approval.

“It’s gorgeous. Perfect,” said Rachel when
they’d regained their composure.

“Damn, my brother’s lucky,” said Taylor.

Bailey nodded in agreement. “Yes he is. So
are we. I’m so glad you’re going to be part of our family,” she
said, her words setting off a fresh flood of tears.

“This is the dress I’m going to wear when I
marry Jude,” Autumn said, her voice filled with wonder and pure
joy.

“Could we see it with the veil?” Rachel asked
the salesclerk while she dug in her bag, pulling out tissues and
her tablet. She swiped the screen with her finger setting off
strange buzzing sounds.

“Hello.” A male voice came out of the tablet
and the other women turned from watching the clerk fit a birdcage
veil on Autumn’s head toward Rachel.

“Get Momma. She’s ready.” It took another
moment before the soft Southern drawl of Emily Southerland came out
of the tablet.

“Hello Rachel, darling. Did she find
one?”

“Yes, Momma. She’s so beautiful. Wait I’ll
show you.”

Rachel carried the tablet to Autumn and held
it up so her mother could see the dress.

“Oh, you are going to make such a beautiful
bride. My son is a blessed man.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Southerland,” said Autumn,
tears shining in her eyes.

“I don’t expect you to call me Momma, not
unless you decide you want to, but you have to call me Emily,
child. I’m so sorry I can’t be there in person to do this. John and
I would like to buy your dress. Don’t argue,” she said, steel in
her voice. “If your mother or grandmother were still here, they
would have done it. Let us do it in their honor. I know I’m not
your mother, but you are going to be part of my family. Please, we
want to do this for you.”

“I don’t know what to say,” said Autumn.

“Say yes, child.”

“Yes,” said Autumn, nodding through her
tears. “Thank you so much.”

“Good grief,” said Taylor dabbing at her
eyes. “We’re all going to dissolve if we keep crying.”

They passed the tablet around, saying their I
love yous and asking about Travis. It had only been a few days
since Bailey had seen her mother but there was something so
comforting about being able to see her face. Her response when
asked about seeing Travis was less reassuring. Physically, it
seemed like things were the way they’d expected and the doctors
said he’d make a complete recovery.

But when Bailey had asked about them being
able to Skype with him, her mother put her off with talk of
visiting hours and Bailey got the impression she wasn’t telling
them everything.

“I’ve got to put on the makeup I cried off,”
said Rachel. “And then let’s go get lunch. I’m starving.”

Trace dropped smooth kidney shaped beans into
the soft earth and thought of Bailey. He cleaned the weeds and
spent plants from the row of spinach and pictured Bailey, naked in
his bed. Bailey under him eyes, closed and head thrown back in
pleasure. Bailey, straddling his lap, riding him until they both
shattered. He thought of Bailey every minute of his morning. He
couldn’t seem to stop thinking about her. Until he went into the
greenhouse at lunchtime and found Jake stalled in front of a bed of
pepper seedlings, staring off into space.

“What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” said Jake, startled into action.
He tucked the spindly two leafed plants into the bed in front of
him.

“Liar.”

“Yeah, well.” Jake looked miserable, more
miserable than Trace had ever seen him. And he’d seen him at seven
in the morning trying not to throw up in the vegetable beds the
morning after he and the interns closed Gilly’s.

“Seriously man, you may as well tell me. I’ll
just keep fucking with you until you do.” Trace dropped to one knee
opposite him and started transplanting pepper seedlings.

“Jesus,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You
get laid and all of a sudden you’re a girl. Fine. Erica and I broke
up.”

“Why? You seemed serious about her.” Trace
paused in his planting to look at Jake.

“I am. I was. Just not serious enough, I
guess. She graduates this month. She’s going back home for a couple
of weeks and then she’s moving to Raleigh Durham to start her job.”
Jake shrugged his shoulders and bent over the bed of tiny
plants.

“Raleigh’s not that far. What about trying
the long distance thing?” Now that Trace had found love, even
though he still couldn’t say it out loud, he wanted everyone to be
happy.

“No, I might have tried it, for a while at
least, but she wasn’t interested. She wants something more
permanent.”

Trace swallowed hard. His mind had been
working that way, too for the last couple of days. Thinking about
something more permanent with Bailey.

“And you’re not interested in more?”

“Fuck no. I mean, I love her, hence the
moping over the peppers but no. I don’t want to tear my life apart
to follow her to Raleigh.” He pushed the pepper into the ground
with a little more force than necessary. “Just to have everything
fall to pieces in a couple of years when she gets tired of my shit.
No. No thank you.”

“Are you sure you couldn’t make it work?”

Jake looked at him like he’d sprouted a
second head. “What are we, chicks now? I don’t want to talk about
this. I don’t want to marry her; I just don’t want her to
leave.”

Trace managed to stay quiet until they’d
almost finished planting the bed. He stopped, his hand hovering
over the rich dark soil. “But you do believe in it, right?”

“Believe in what?” asked Jake.

“Love. Marriage. One woman forever.” Trace
looked up from the pepper plants to see Jake staring at him.

“I’m not doing this without beer,” said Jake,
shaking his head.

They left the interns with instructions to
finish tilling under the last of the winter rye and drove to the
White Swan, a tavern halfway between his place and the base of
Bailey’s mountain. It smelled like stale smoke and old grease and
it was so dark the tables and old wooden chairs weren’t much more
than shadowy humps. But it was the only place to get a beer in the
middle of the day without driving to Blacksburg.

Trace blinked to adjust to the lack of light
so he wouldn’t run into anything and wove his way to one of the
booths near the pool table. The fluorescent light reflected off of
the green felt gave him at least a chance of seeing what he was
eating. He held two fingers up to the tired middle aged woman
behind the bar and she turned away from the soap opera playing on
the TV to pull two drafts.