Marie Ferrarella - Bridesmaid For Hire

Gina sighed. With the latest wedding now behind her, she was, once again, unemployed.

She knew that she had word of mouth as well as a growing number of satisfied clients going for her, but even so she really needed to give some thought to building up her network, Gina decided. A network comprised of people who could call and alert her to brides in need of her very unique services.

Gina sank down on the bed, willing herself to wind down.

Each time she watched as the happy bride and groom finally drove off to begin their life together—starting with their honeymoon—amid the feeling of a job well done she also experienced just the faintest hint of feeling let down.

This time was no different. She knew her feelings were silly and she tried not to pay any attention to them, but they were there nonetheless. That tiniest spark of wondering what it might have been like if she hadn’t gotten cold feet and had instead agreed to run off with Shane that one wild, crazy night when he had suddenly turned to her and said, out of the blue, “Let’s get married.”

She supposed that her response—“Are you crazy?”—might have been a bit more diplomatic. But Shane had caught her off guard. They’d dated casually for two years but had only gotten serious in the last six months. When he’d asked her to marry him, the thought of doing something so permanent had scared her to death. She hadn’t been ready for that sort of a commitment.

And he hadn’t been ready for that kind of a total, harsh rejection. She’d regretted it almost instantly, but by then it had been too late. And she might have even said yes, she thought now. Or at least talked to him and suggested that they take things a little more slowly. But she hadn’t been thinking clearly.

They had both just graduated from college that month and life was beginning to unfold for them. There were careers to launch and so many things to do before their lives even began to take shape.

In hindsight, all that uncertainty had frightened her, too. Loving Shane had been a comfortable thing, something for her to lean on. Loving Shane wasn’t supposed to contribute to her feelings of being pressured.

Gina sighed. There was no point in going over all that now. By the time she’d worked up her nerve to apologize to Shane, to explain why she’d said what she had, it was too late. He’d taken off, vacating his apartment and leaving for parts unknown, just like that.

Nobody knew where he was.

Stop thinking about what you can’t undo , she silently ordered herself. It won’t change anything.

Dressed in her favorite outfit—cut-off jeans and a T-shirt—Gina went into her kitchen. She took out her favorite ice cream—rum raisin—and carried it into the living room. She settled down on the sectional sofa in front of her giant screen TV to binge-watch her favorite comedy series. She really needed a good laugh tonight.

Just as she turned on the set and pressed the necessary combination of buttons that got her to the first episode of the extensively long-running series—an episode she’d seen countless times before, whenever she was feeling down—her phone rang.

Gina looked at the cell accusingly. It was either someone trying to sell her some insurance—it was that time of year again she’d noticed—or it was her mother to pointedly ask her how “someone else’s wedding” went and when did she think she would get around to planning one of her own.

Telling her mother that it would happen when she found someone to stand at the altar, waiting for her, never did any good because that only had her mother remembering how much she and the rest of the family had liked Shane. Shane had managed to endear himself to them in a very short amount of time. That was ten years ago and her mother still nostalgically referred to him as “the one who got away.”

No, she definitely wasn’t up to talking to her mother tonight.

Gina glanced at the caller ID. It wasn’t her mother, or, from the looks of it, an insurance broker. The ID below the phone number proclaimed “Manetti’s Catering.”

The name seemed vaguely familiar. And then she remembered hearing the name on the radio along with the slogan “Food like Mama used to make.”

Curious, Gina set aside the half-pint of ice cream on top of a section of the newspaper on her coffee table and answered her phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello,” a cheerful woman’s voice on the other end of the call responded. “Is this Gina Bongino?”

“Yes,” Gina answered guardedly. “This is Gina.”

She was prepared to terminate the call at a second’s notice if this turned out to be some clever telemarketer who had matched her name to her cell number.

“Forgive me for bothering you so late on a Sunday, but are you the same Gina Bongino who advertises herself as the Bridesmaid for Hire?” Theresa asked.

Before placing the call, Theresa had everything written down on a yellow pad and it was in front of her now. She didn’t want to take a chance on forgetting something or making a mistake. She, Maizie and Celia had covered all the major points before she’d even placed the call to Gina.

“I am,” Gina answered, still wondering if this was going to wind up being a crank call, or if this was actually on the level.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Theresa declared. “You don’t know me, dear, but I’m Theresa Manetti. I run a catering service and I’ve done a good many wedding receptions. Especially lately.”

“Yes?” Gina responded, waiting for the woman to get to the point. She was hoping it involved what she did, but you never knew. Maybe the woman was just looking for some advice. Or even a referral.

“I’ll get right to the point,” Theresa said as if reading her mind. “The reception I have coming up in three weeks just might wind up falling through. The poor girl who’s the bride-to-be is about to have a nervous breakdown and I was wondering—” Stumbling, Theresa took a deep breath and glanced down at her notes. She started again. “Someone told me that you offer a very unique service. You come in and handle any emergency that might come up connected to the wedding so that the bride can enjoy a stress-free wedding day.”

“That’s right,” Gina said, beginning to relax a little. This might be a job after all.

Schooling herself not to sound too eager, Theresa asked, “Just exactly what is it that you do?”

“Essentially, anything that needs to be done in order to make the wedding proceed as initially planned,” Gina answered.

“Such as?” Theresa prompted.

Gina thought for a moment before framing her answer. “Such as anything from turning ugly bridesmaid dresses into flattering ones to lining up last-minute photographers to replace the one who dropped out. The same thing goes for hairdressers and makeup artists if the bride planned on having them. You name it, I’ve probably encountered it.”

“Does that include being part of the wedding party? Because one of the bridesmaids suddenly just dropped out, leaving a lone groomsman,” Theresa explained, checking off a line on her pad.

“I’m in the background,” Gina explained. It was not her intention to take a chance on outshining any bride. “But yes, that’s what the title implies. I actually am a bridesmaid for hire,” she told the woman on the other end of the call.

She heard a large sigh of relief, something she was more than familiar with.

“Oh, you’re a godsend,” Theresa declared, and she was only half acting.

“I will need to talk to the bride herself to make sure she’s on board,” Gina told the caller before things progressed any further. “To be honest, it’s usually the bride or a member of her family who hires me. I’ve never had a caterer ask me to help out the bride before,” she said.