Carol Clark - Hitched

“We had a break-in last night, and your dress was stolen. So was Regan’s,” he added almost joyfully.

Hugging the clipboard to her chest, Tracy looked as though the wind had been knocked out of her. “Could you repeat that?”

Alfred did as he was told.

Regan could see a look of amusement come over Adele’s face, but Tracy ’s mother’s expression turned grave. Luckily she didn’t seem the type to get overwrought, at least in public. But Tracy ’s stiff upper lip had vanished.

“My dress is gone? Gone? What am I supposed to do? My perfect wedding is in one week.” She banged her clipboard. “Everything is set except the dress. Everything.”

Charisse ran into the kitchen mumbling about making another pot of lavender tea.

“Honey,” Tracy ’s mother said in a tone that matched her expression. “We’ll find you another dress.”

“No,” Alfred interrupted. “We’ll make you a new one. We promise. When you think about it, seven days is plenty of time. Isn’t that how long it took God to-”

“That is unacceptable!” Tracy interrupted, her voice quivering with rage. “I have every minute scheduled from now until the time I walk down the aisle. I don’t have a second to spare. Do you understand that? Do you?”

Alfred just looked at her.

Tracy unsnapped the cell phone attached to her belt. “I’m going to call my fiancé. He’ll tell you a thing or two. He’ll sue you.” She pressed one key and a moment later barked into the phone. “Jeffrey! The most awful thing has happened! I am so upset! My gown was stolen. I am beside myself!…That’s right, stolen… How can I have a wedding without a gown…? What do you mean we shouldn’t go ahead with the wedding? It is not a sign we shouldn’t get married, I’ll get another gown…”

Regan watched as the expression on Tracy ’s face turned from anger to horror.

“Not the right thing for you now? What are you talking about? I said I’ll get another gown…You’ve made up your mind…What do you mean it’s not me, it’s you? I can’t believe you’re doing this! I can’t believe it!” She snapped the phone shut and threw it onto the floor. “Look at what you’ve done, Alfred! My fiancé dumped me because I don’t have a dress!”

Something tells me there are extenuating circumstances, Regan thought.

Tracy ran into the bathroom, her mother in her wake. “ Tracy, maybe you caught him at a bad time. Give him a call back!”

Adele shook her head. “The worst part of this is that she was determined to get married before she turned thirty. She was just going to make it by the skin of her teeth.”

“When does she turn thirty?” Regan asked.

“In two weeks. They were going to celebrate on the honeymoon.” Adele shuffled around the corner to the bathroom, apparently feeling that she should at least attempt to offer some sisterly comfort.

Regan looked over at Alfred. Well at least he doesn’t have to worry about replacing Tracy ’s dress. Unless she manages to find another husband before the day of her Big 3-0.

Kit cleared her throat. “Regan, do you think we should tell her that you’re thirty-one and it doesn’t bother you that you’re getting married over thirty, and I’m thirty-one and I’m not even close to getting married? As a matter of fact, I can tell her that I don’t even have a date for your wedding.”

Regan smiled. “Kit, somehow I don’t think that would go over so well.”

“Just a suggestion.”

“Well, Alfred, two more April Brides to go. Do you think we’ll be hearing from them soon?”

“I hope not. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

Thank God for my animals, Joyce thought, as she placed a puppy she’d been grooming in the front window of the pet store. They always want to be with me. Unlike Francis who had called from the road and said that he was going to Atlantic City with Marco. She couldn’t wait for that Marco to get lost. He was such a bad influence. Hopefully, Francis could go back to work soon, Marco would leave, and she and Francis could get their life back.

Joyce wanted to settle down. It was about time. She wanted to have kids and animals and buy a house out on Long Island. Just not too close to Francis’s mother, who had called and asked if Joyce wanted to come out and spend the night with the folks while Francis was away.

No thank you! she had responded, almost too quickly. She would go home and take it easy. It would be nice to have some peace and quiet in the house. Marco had the television on every second he was awake. In the middle of the night, he’d wake up and turn it on, then the parrot would start to squawk.

Although the parrot enjoyed watching television.

“Hey, Joyce,” her co-worker Bunny called to her. “You have another phone call.”

“Thanks.”

All the workers at Teddy’s Pet Store had cell phones, but Teddy insisted the phones remain off in the shop. “All that ringing and beeping and those crazy songs disturb the peace,” he declared. “The animals shouldn’t have to put up with it!”

Any personal calls would be on the house phone, and they would be brief. “If you’re not taking care of a customer, you should be giving love to the animals,” he proclaimed.

Joyce hurried to the phone by the register. “Hello,” she said as she played with a tiny Velcro ball that was on the counter and intended for cats’ amusement.

“Joyce, it’s Cindy.”

Cindy was Joyce’s single neighbor. Nosy but nice. They saw each other more in the summertime when they threw barbecues together. Cindy was about her age, divorced, and always on the hunt for a new guy. “Hi, Cindy. What’s going on?”

“I saw Francis and Marco speed down the block before. Are they heading out of town again?

She’s always digging for information, Joyce thought. Cindy should have been an archaeologist. “Another boys’ night out,” Joyce answered, forcing herself to sound cheery. “It’s okay. By the time I’m through here, I’m happy to go home and relax.”

“Uh-huh, sure. Listen, Joyce, I’m going into the city with some of the girls tonight. We’re going to Little Italy for pasta. The place has music. It’ll be fun.”

Joyce paused-for a fraction of a second. She loved the energy in Little Italy. Its narrow cobblestone streets, colored lights, and bustling restaurants all made for a great atmosphere. “That sounds great. I’m not that tired.”

“You go, girl,” Cindy said. “If the boys can go out and play, so can the girls.”

“That’s for sure.”

“What time do you get off work?”

“Five.”

“Go home and relax for a couple of hours. Take a nap. I’ll pick you up at eight. We’ll make it a fun night.”

Pasta, a little wine, music, some laughs with the girls. It’s what I need, Joyce thought as she hung up the phone.

So what was bothering her?

The front door opened, and a young mother and her son came in. His arm was bandaged.

“What happened to you?” Joyce asked sweetly.

“I fell going up the steps and I had a glass in my hand. I cut my arm, and it bled all over.

Joyce’s mind flashed to the bloody paper napkin she’d found in the bathroom wastebasket this morning. Francis and Marco were sleeping when she left for work. She’d forgotten to ask Francis about it when he called.

“I told my mother I’d feel better if she bought me a puppy.”

“I’m sure that would make you feel better…” Joyce agreed, leading them to the front window where three little cocker spaniels were scampering around in piles of shredded paper.

I wish I knew what would make me feel better, she thought. Maybe a night on the town with the girls will do the trick.