Page 35 of Love Letter Lost
“Sounds nice.” I forced the words through my teeth, wishing for a change of topic.
Ridge seemed to take the hint as we turned onto another street, leaving the construction site and all it represented behind us.
“I can honestly say I’ve never been to this store before.” Ridge attempted to reignite the conversation as he fiddled with the volume on the stereo.
“I can’t imagine why not.” I tapped my finger on my chin for a moment, pretending to consider his statement. The store we were headed to exclusively sold dresses for weddings and high school dances. “Good news! We’re changing that today.”
The first store was a bust. While they had tons of cute dresses, none of them were peach. They had a couple of floral options with peach in them that I tried on, but Livvy, via texts to Ridge, nixed them quickly, claiming that the floral arrangements were enough flowers for her wedding and that floral bridesmaids’ dresses would just take things over the top. While I didn’t necessarily agree with her, she was the bride, and her opinion took priority.
“We could revolt and buy the floral dresses anyway,” Ridge suggested as we left the first store and made our way to a somewhat pricey department store. “By the time she realizes what we’ve done, it’ll be too late to change anything.”
“Do you really want that mental breakdown on your hands?” I walked to the dress section. “And does that mean you’re done with shopping already?”
“I could do this all day.” Ridge shrugged before reaching for a dress from a nearby wrack. “If flowers are out, how do you think Livvy would feel about animal print?”
I ignored his question, suppressing a shudder as I took in the peach snakeskin mess he was holding. “Hard pass.”
The department store was even more disappointing than the first store. While they had a few peach dresses, each option was worse than the last, not to mention I’d flinch every time I caught sight of a price tag. The only somewhat promising dress resulted in a hysterical phone call from Livvy, panicking over whether we’d be able to find anything acceptable.
“We’ll find something.” I hoped my words would soothe Livvy. The phone call had already lasted several minutes with me repeating the same mantra.
“But it’s my wedding! The dresses have to be perfect and—”
My phone was pulled from my hand, and I looked up in surprise to see Ridge press it to his ear.
“This is professional dress shopper Rigdon Ridge Ridge. Ma’am, rest assured that if we can’t find something today, you get your money back, guaranteed. How do you feel about polka dots?”
Even I could hear the shriek that came through the line, causing him to flinch and pull the phone away from his ear.
“I’m going to take that as a no.” Ridge hung up and handed the phone back to me.
“What was that?” I asked, my face frozen in shock.
“Nothing you were doing worked, so I figured we should try a different approach.”
“Because sending her into hysterics is clearly a good idea.” My phone started ringing and I grimaced as I saw Livvy’s picture on the screen.
“You should probably answer that,” Ridge said.
“And deal with an angry diva bride? No, thank you! This is your fault. You talk to her.” I held out the phone to him.
“I know better than to poke an angry bear.” He pushed my hand away.
“You already poked the bear.” I thrust the phone out to him again.
“You don’t have to answer it.” Ridge started to walk away, a goofy grin on his face.
“But that’ll just make her angrier.”
“So? It’s not like she’s here. If she were, we wouldn’t be having this problem.”
Ridge’s logic made a weird kind of sense. I glanced down at the phone one more time before taking a deep breath and hitting the ignore button. I hoped that I wasn’t making a mistake by sending her to voicemail.
CHAPTERTWENTY
The next storebrought a bit more luck despite Ridge and I having to turn off our phones because Livvy wouldn’t stop calling. While the store didn’t have any peach dresses, they did have some peach tops that would work well with either a black or white skirt. The problem was the size selection. We needed something that ranged from extra-small to 2XL. We didn’t even bother sending Livvy photos, deciding it wasn’t worth the potential panic attack.
By the time we reached store number four, I was hungry—on the verge hangry. Ridge had alternated between helping me keep my sanity and increasing my frustration, pushing me further towards the end of my rope with his commentary and suggestions.
