Carol Clark - Hitched

“Next Saturday.”

“Next Saturday! How come she didn’t pick up her dress before now? My mother is guarding mine at home with her dear life. She’s afraid something bad is going to happen to it. The day before she married my father, one of her bridesmaids’ kids went into my mom’s bedroom with a box of crayons.” She managed a smile. “I can just imagine the fireworks that day.”

“Now that is bad,” Jack said, smiling back at her. He was glad to see that she was beginning to relax.

“So how come your fiancée waited so long to pick up her dress?”

“Huh? Oh. Well, she’s been living in Los Angeles, so she’s just back and…”

“Long distance romance? That’s no good.”

Now Jack’s smile was broad. “No it’s not. The long distance part is finally over.”

“My fiancé, Jamie, lives three blocks away from me. He says that three blocks feels like forever. He should be here soon. He’s a nervous wreck.”

“I would be, too,” Jack said sincerely, thinking of Regan. He was always worried about her, and in her line of work, there was usually good reason. He leaned forward and glanced again at the girl’s name tag. “ Tara, may I call you that?”

“It’s my name,” she answered. “I don’t know what else you’d call me.”

Jack raised his eyebrows. “ Tara it is then.” He paused. “Could you just go over with me exactly what happened? Tell me everything you remember. Even if a detail seems trivial, it could be important.”

Tara nodded and took a sip from the glass of water that a co-worker had brought to her. “I’m sitting here all morning taking care of customers. It was busy. Next thing I know I hear a clap of thunder and it starts to rain. Really hard. We all started joking with each other. We were mad because we close at one and we thought it would be a beautiful afternoon to have off. My fiancé, Jamie, was supposed to pick me up. We were going to Home Depot to look at kitchen cabinets for our new apartment. Next thing I know there’s a black-gloved hand pushing a note through my window.” She paused. “You read it?”

“Yes.”

“No matter how much they train you, you’re never prepared for something like this. I slid that money over the counter so fast it would make your head spin. My heart was thumping in my chest so hard, I thought everyone in the bank could hear it. I was so scared I felt like I was having one of those out-of-body experiences-it was as if I was floating up toward that ugly ceiling out there while I watched myself going through the motions down below.”

“What did the robber look like?” Jack asked quietly.

“He was white with a dark mustache and beard, and had on oversized tinted glasses. I couldn’t see his eyes, but he had big bushy eyebrows. Not that I looked that hard. It all happened so fast. I was afraid to make eye contact once I read the note. But he was wearing dark clothes and a black raincoat with the hood up.”

Jack and Tara both turned toward the door as a man’s voice could be heard yelling, “Where is she?”

Tara jumped up as Jamie rushed through the door. Jack smiled as the hulking man scooped his petite fiancée off the ground and held her in his arms.

“I’m getting you out of here, baby,” he announced in a booming voice as he swayed her from side to side. “I’m taking you away for a few days so we can both calm down.”

“Where are we going?” Tara asked, as the tears started to flow from her eyes. Feeling protected and safe in Jamie’s big strong arms, she felt a wonderful relief.

“ Las Vegas. We’ll have a good time and forget all this.”

Some place to calm down, Jack thought.

Of Charisse and Alfred’s five April Brides, Brianne and Regan were still the only two who definitely knew the bad news about the gowns. Alfred had left messages for Shauna Nickles and Victoria Beardsley, telling them that there was a “little problem.” They weren’t scheduled to come in for fittings until the following week. Tracy Timber was now a few minutes late for her appointment, which was surprising. Alfred, Charisse, Regan, Nora, and Kit were all waiting for her as though the Grim Reaper were about to appear.

“She’s never late,” Charisse explained. “She is ultraorganized and efficient.”

“Rigid,” Alfred offered.

Charisse sweetly ignored him. “I’m afraid the news is going to be a big blow for her.”

“She’s running her wedding like a marine sergeant,” Alfred said. He threw out his hands. “Where is the sense of joy? Show me the love.”

Nora and Kit had been sitting silently, taking all this in. Of course neither of them wanted to leave. It was the quietest Regan had seen Kit in a long time. “You know,” Nora began. “Planning a wedding is very stressful. There’s so much to think about.”

“The dress is the most important,” Alfred said proudly. “It’s the dress that defines the bride. If your dress is bad, then you may as well forget it! People will be talking behind your back for years to come!”

“That’s why we have such a problem, Alfred,” Regan reminded him. “If this Tracy is so ultraorganized and she’s getting married next week…”

The downstairs buzzer rang.

As opposed to a collective sigh of relief, there was a collective tensing of muscles in the salon.

Charisse walked over to the intercom but didn’t reach it before it buzzed again. This time the buzz was longer. Charisse waited until the noise ended and then pushed the button and spoke into the speaker. “Who’s there?” she asked with a lilt, winking at the group.

“Tracy Timber,” a clipped voice answered. “I do have an appointment.”

“Come right up.”

When Tracy appeared at the door with her mother and sister, Regan could tell that this was going to be a painful experience. Tracy was one of those people who had every one of her shoulder-length blond hairs perfectly in place, with a headband to ensure no strays dared escape. She was dressed in preppy clothing and simple gold jewelry. But the rock on her left hand was impressive. She was carrying a briefcase in her right hand, a clipboard in her left.

“The traffic coming in from Connecticut was terrible,” Tracy announced. “Once the rain started…”

She doesn’t know yet, Regan thought. They must not have listened to the radio on the way in.

“No problem…” Alfred said, fumbling for words. “Let…let me introduce you…”

Tracy ’s mother, Ellen, was an older, more relaxed version of Tracy. Her gold earrings were similar to Tracy ’s, and she had on well-cut beige slacks and a yellow sweater set. Tracy ’s younger sister, Adele, had the same features and hair color as her mother and sister but was clearly not cut from the same mold. She looked like she had just rolled out of bed. Wearing wrinkled blue jeans, a denim shirt, and old sneakers, she yawned at least twice before the introductions were complete.

Everyone said hello and shook hands. Tracy ’s eyes darted back and forth to the long rack where the gowns were usually hanging in wait when clients came for their final fittings.

“Lovely meeting you all,” Tracy said without enthusiasm, then glanced at her watch. “Now, let’s get down to business, shall we, Alfred. I want to try on my dress one more time and then be on our way. Have you finished up with Regan? You are the bride, aren’t you, Regan?”

And the detective, Regan thought, but she just nodded. She felt her throat go dry. Poor Alfred.

“ Tracy, why don’t you and your mother and sister sit down?” Alfred said, clearly stalling for time.

“I don’t want to sit down. I want to try on my dress.”

“There’s a little problem…”

Tracy ’s cheeks flushed. “What is the problem, Alfred?”