Page 79 of Castaway Whirlwind
“Yes!” Goldie is practically dancing in her fuzzy white slippers with glee, gripping the sides of her robe that have parted to reveal her rounded belly, and for once, I don’t have to immediately look away.
“Get out of bed, sleepyhead,” Violet says, waddling out of the private hallway in slippers as well. “You don’t want to be late for your wedding, do you?”
I throw my comforter off and roll up on my knees. “What?”
“You’re getting married!” Dolly shouts, clapping her hands when I take the clothing hanger from her.
“What?” I scream again, having heard them all just fine, and scramble off the mattress.
Cora jumps off after me. “You’re getting married!”
I clutch the robe to my chest. “Oh my god, I’m getting married?”
The girls shatter my eardrums when they all scream, “Yes!”
Hopping from one foot to the other, I ask, “Today?”
“Yes!”
“How?”
Violet laughs and says, “My friend, Carolina, works at thecourthouse, and she processed your marriage license after Russell tricked you into signing the forms at the hospital.”
“Isn’t that illegal?”
“Very, so shh.” Violet holds her index finger to her smiling lips. “Our little secret.”
Faye shoos me into the bathroom so I can shower. “Chop, chop. We need to get you all fancied up.”
“Where is Russell? Is he here?” I ask, coming out of the bathroom wearing my robe, having rushed through my shower, shaving everything, and drying and styling my hair neater than I’ve ever done so before.
“He and the men are at Elliott’s getting ready,” Goldie says, leading the pack out of my bedroom.
“Wow. This isn’t a dream,” I whisper in awe, with my hands held to my cheeks as I spin around in the living room where all of the windows and glass doors have been draped with gauzy white curtains. The light weave of the fabric softens the bright sunshine, yet they’re thick enough that no one will be able to see through while we get ready.
“Layla!” a woman with a sweet voice calls from behind.
“Eden, hi!” I hurry to embrace the professional makeup artist I recognize well from a few of the weddings Violet has planned closer to Austin. “Thank you so much for coming all the way out here.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it,” she says with a giggle when I don’t let her go, squeezing her extra tight. I told Violet off-handedly once that Eden was my favorite of all the artists we’ve worked with, and for her to have traveled to be my artist only heightens my rising emotions.
Eden swivels one of the bar stools at the kitchen island so I can take a seat, then spins me back around and flips thelight switch on the large vanity mirror she has set up on the countertop. Cora hands me a mimosa and a plate piled with pastries and fruit from the catered breakfast charcuterie boards set in the middle of the kitchen table.
I watch as Eden expertly transforms my face, and it almost brings tears to my eyes to see that the purple smudges I spent so many years hiding with full-coverage concealer have faded considerably. It’s one of the best gifts Russell has ever given me—the ability to sleep deeply on top of or beside him every night—and my regular makeup won’t have to work so hard any longer.
“Stop,” Eden says, fanning my face with her hands, then hers. “You’re going to make me cry with how happy you look.”
“I dreamed of this for so long,” I say with a thick voice, sweeping my hand around to indicate the wonderful women in my life, the house, and beyond the windows to the man I get to spend the rest of my life with. “I can’t believe it’s really happening.”
“Believe it,” my former boss at the bridal boutique says. Mrs. Larsen’s black high heels click across the floor when she steps out of the front entryway, carrying in the summer breeze and an extra-long white garment bag.
“Is that—oh my.” I slip off the bar stool when Mrs. Larsen hooks the clothing hanger high on the stair railing and unzips the bag, revealing the ivory satin material of the A-line gown with its low straight neckline, thin satin straps, and hand-draped bodice. “How did you know this is my dream dress?”
Mrs. Larsen narrows her eyes but with good-natured humor behind them. “You always skipped picking it to show to brides, even when it would have been precisely what they were looking for and thus an easy sale and commission.”
“Guilty,” I say, feeling not at all so. I couldn’t bring myself to let anyone else try it on, especially since it was already close to my size, as if it was designed just for me. Having gained a bit of weight, I bet it’ll fit perfectly now.
“As soon as I heard you and Russell were finally together, I marched right into his office and demanded he purchase it. I’ve been holding it in the back for you ever since so he wouldn’t be tempted to peek. You were a terrible sales associate, but you’ll be a beautiful bride.”
