Carol Clark - Hitched

“ Atlantic City?” Cindy asked.

“Yes, and that’s where Alfred lost his keys last week. We think that whoever robbed his salon used his keys to get in. We also think that two guys at the craps table he was playing at picked his keys off the ground when he dropped them. We saw the tapes. One of the guys has a limp.”

As Joyce inhaled sharply, the whole room fell silent.

“Lazy bums!” Romeo cried. “Lazy bums!”

Cindy walked over and reached behind the couch. She picked up the set of keys she had pulled out of Romeo’s mouth just this morning. This time she took a moment to look at them. A tiny wedding dress made out of sterling silver was attached to the key ring. “Oh, my God…” she said.

“What?” Regan asked.

Cindy turned to her. “Could these be Alfred’s keys?”

Francis and Marco had been driving for over forty hours. Neither of them had showered in two days. They were grubby, tired, and irritable.

Earlier, when they’d tuned in to the Imus in the Morning radio show, Imus had been talking about what complete losers the guys must be who stole the April Brides’ wedding dresses.

Marco had snapped off the radio, and they’d ridden in silence. Just before noon, they finally reached Las Vegas.

“Where are we meeting your friend?” Francis asked.

“He’s got a motel room. We’ll drop off the dresses, check into a hotel, and hope he sells the dresses fast so we can collect the money and run.”

“I’m flying home this afternoon.”

“Suit yourself.”

“Thank God Joyce is okay. I just want to see her. She sounded a little funny on the phone.”

Marco shrugged.

They drove to a rundown neighborhood not far from the main strip of high-rise hotels. The directions they’d been given led them to an old, dilapidated motel. An outside set of stairs led to the second floor where Marco’s friend had set up his temporary bridal shop.

Francis and Marco got out of the car, opened the trunk, and lifted out the dishwasher box. They dropped it onto the hot pavement. Everything was still and quiet.

The sun was beating down, and Francis already felt a little woozy and disoriented from being in the car for so long. That’s why when he saw a car door open and a woman emerge with a killer expression on her face, he wasn’t sure whether he was hallucinating. She looked like the woman on NY1 who’d said she’d tear whoever ruined her dress limb from limb. It couldn’t be, he thought.

But when she started running toward them, like one of the bulls at Pamplona, there was no doubt that she was the raging bride.

“You ruined my dress!” Brianne screamed as she lunged at him.

He had no time to escape. Before he knew it, she had tackled him to the ground.

“I’ve got one of them!” Brianne cried out to Regan, Jack, Pauly, Tracy, Kit, Tracy ’s friends, and several Las Vegas policemen who emerged from several cars parked around the lot.

“You two stink!” Brianne screamed. “You’re going to rot in jail!”

Marco had cursed and taken off across the lot, but he didn’t get far. A couple of the cops chased him down, while three others hurried up to the room where Marco’s friend was trying to escape through a back window.

“Brianne!” Pauly said with exasperation, “you were supposed to wait until they went upstairs!”

“I couldn’t wait! These creeps destroyed my wedding gown!”

Francis lay on the ground in misery. Pauly pulled Brianne off him, and then a cop pulled him to his feet. He and Marco were quickly handcuffed.

“Ow!” Marco cried. “I’ve got a gash on my arm. It’s probably infected.”

“It must have been your blood, then, that was all over Brianne’s dress,” Regan said to him with disgust.

“I hope it hurts,” Brianne sneered.

As Marco and Francis were escorted into the back of an unmarked police cruiser, the three April Brides ceremoniously opened the dishwasher box and pulled out the four dresses.

“My gown isn’t in this box,” Brianne said, “but I wouldn’t have missed this trip for the world.”

“Mine is here but it’s going to charity,” Tracy said. “I’m sending it to Haiti where women have to get married in a white dress but often can’t afford it. But I wouldn’t have missed this trip, either.”

Regan made a quick inspection of her dress. Other than the missing button, it was in pretty good shape. All it needed was a good steam. “All right, everyone,” Regan said. “Let’s have a nice lunch at the Bellagio and then head back to New York.”

“Thank your father for getting us the private plane,” Brianne said. “I’m glad he had the connections to get one so fast. It was worth seeing the expression on those losers’ faces.”

“It certainly was,” Tracy agreed.

Regan smiled. “My father said this dress had cost him so much already that he might as well go all out to see that I retrieved it personally.”

“He’s going to be telling this story for a long time to come,” Kit said with a chuckle. “Just like the story of how he got kidnapped so you could find a husband.”

Regan laughed and looked over at Jack. He was speaking with the police captain. She loved him so much. I don’t care what else happens, she thought. Nothing in the world is going to stop us from getting married this Saturday. As she folded her wedding dress, she held it in her hands for a few extra moments before carefully returning it to the dishwasher box. It was beautiful. She couldn’t wait to put it on in five days and walk down the aisle to join hands with the man she had waited for all her life. She smiled as their song started to run through her head-“Till There Was You.”

Much to Nora’s delight, Regan would now be able to keep her promise and devote the rest of the week to her wedding preparations. That is, after Regan finally woke up on Tuesday afternoon and caught up on all the newspaper stories and media coverage about the capture of the dress thieves.

The top priority was to procure a band. Tracy suggested they hire the band that she no longer needed.

“They’re certainly free on Saturday night, Regan,” she said. “But if you hire them, you have to invite me.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“And I’d like to bring Jay.”

Regan smiled. “There’s nothing I’d like better than to see you two dancing at my wedding. I’m so glad you’re doing well.”

“I’m living with the satisfaction that Jeffrey is calling constantly, begging for forgiveness. Of course I would never go back to him, but I’m enjoying his misery.” She sighed. “He wasn’t the one. When I see you with Jack, I realize how I want it to be for me…”

Regan and Nora spent hours deciding who would sit at which table. When they finally finished, Nora sighed. “You know that someone’s going to be unhappy with where we put them.”

Regan laughed. “Mom, it wouldn’t be a wedding otherwise. I bet it’ll be Aunt Nahnah who complains. She got that nickname for a reason.”

“Regan!” Nora protested.

“You’re right, Regan,” Luke said as he walked in the door. “I’m glad you didn’t mention someone from my side of the family.”

“Don’t get me started!” Nora laughed, as her husband kissed the top of her head.

Luke was thrilled that the mystery of the strange phone calls was solved by the New Jersey police, who had raided an apartment for drugs. What they found on the dining table wasn’t drugs but a pile of engagement announcements cut out of local newspapers. Regan’s was on top. The Reilly home had indeed been targeted for a break-in on Saturday afternoon.