Page 55 of Never Stop
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Brooke
Two months later, and a week before we left for Nicole and Avery’s December Vegas wedding, I had my six month CAT scan to check for regrowth of my tumor, but I felt great and had a little more energy.
Just like I’d done after Dr. Sam discovered I had a tumor, I went to the hospital for the scan. The first time was different, though. I’d just learned I had a tumor. This time, I walked into the appointment, my head held high and not a care in the world. It had been a little more than six months since I had radiation, about eight since my surgery and I was certain a regrowth couldn’t have grown back that fast. Or at all.
I was right.
A few days later, my new doctor in New York called and delivered the good news. There was only scar tissue around the area where the tumor had been and nothing more. Easton, Cheyenne and I hugged and celebrated the fantastic news, and then Easton and I packed for Vegas.
Our best friends were getting married—to each other!
When Nicole said she wanted to get married as soon as possible, she wasn’t kidding. Vegas was crazy, and what happened there… Well, you know what they say about Vegas.
After the crazy weekend, the newlyweds were off on their honeymoon. Once Easton and I returned home, I was in full wedding planning mode. We sent out our save the date cards for our April wedding, and even though it was four months away, I was already starting to get nervous. I wasn’t worried because I was marrying him, though. I was scared something would go wrong. We were going to have a small, intimate wedding and I wanted everything perfect. After all, I was only doing this once.
We’d also sent a save the date to my mother. She said she wanted to come, so I was extending an olive branch. If she didn’t show to my wedding that she had begged to attend, I was writing her off for good.
Nicole was going to be my matron of honor, Bailee my maid of honor and that was it. I made them both my most important girls because they were to me. They could share in on the duties and decide how to torture me. I was certain Nicole would want to pay me back for her bachelorette party in Vegas before she tied the knot.Again, that’s her story to tell.
Of course, Cheyenne was going to be the flower girl. She was a little too old for the job, but it was the only way we could incorporate her into our special day.
The venue for my wedding was set, flowers arranged, DJ booked, and my dress was…not yet found. I was having a difficult time trying to find a dress I loved. The bride’s dress was the second most important part of a wedding. The first was obviously marrying the love of my life, but the second was the dress because weddings wereforthe bride, andIneeded the picture-perfect dress. The one that was breathtaking. The one that a groom couldn’t wait to get her out of.
Bailee wasn’t able to meet us for dress shopping the first time Nicole and I went. But she didn’t miss much. Nicole and I went to a bridal shop, and I tried on three dresses. The first one was a floral lace white dress that plunged deep in the front and led to a bodice with pockets.Pockets!I could store lip-gloss in it, my something old, borrowed or blue—whatever. However, the bodice wrapped around the back in a V-line that matched the front and extended into a long train. I didn’t want a long train. I wanted to move and not worry someone was going to step on it and rip it causing my granny panties to be exposed.Okay, I probably wasn’t going to wear granny panties on my wedding day.If anything, I’d go commando before I wore a thong that went up my ass. After all, the last time I went commando in a skirt, itbenefitedme.
The second dress was a simple satin white mermaid style dress—I wasn’t a fish.
The third reminded me of being a princess. It had tulle on the inside that made the bottom half of the dress poof out, and I swear I felt like a cloud. It wasn’t me. When we left that bridal shop, I felt defeated.
The following weekend, Bailee drove in from Boston for a night of wedding planning with Nicole, and we went dress shopping first. We walked into the small boutique and was immediately handed a glass of champagne.
“Who knew you could get drunk and shop for wedding dresses at the same time?” Bailee, asked as she took a sip of the tart liquid.
“If this is like last weekend, I’m going to need more than champagne,” I murmured.
“I feel like this is the place,” Nicole stated.
Bailee chuckled. “It’s because of the champs.”
“Well, let’s get to it.” I wasn’t excited. After the last bust, I felt as though I’d never find the perfect dress. The one I’d feel beautiful in. The one I’d want to be photographed in so I could have the memories of the best day of my life. The one that wasme.
We walked to the back of the store, and we scanned the floor, looking at the sample dresses. Nothing stuck out to me. When my eyes met those of the store clerk, she studied me for a few beats, and I looked down to make sure I didn’t have a stain on my classic T-shirt or LuLaRoe leggings. I nervously smoothed down my brown hair just in case that was what she was staring at.
When my gaze met hers again, she said, “I have theperfectdress.” Her grin was wide and hopeful.
“Okay.” I smiled tightly because I was still convinced theperfectdress didn’t exist. I knew I’d only tried on three dresses, but I had searched rack after rack and believed it might be a unicorn—a mystical fairytale creature that didn’t exist. I turned and looked at my girls. “She has theperfectdress,” I said sarcastically when the clerk was out of earshot.
“Stop being like that, B.” Nicole glared and took a seat. Bailee sat next to her.
“Not everyone already has their perfect dress,” I countered, remembering the dress in her love story.
She laughed. “Like I had a choice.”
“Yeah, but you fell in love with it right away.”
“It just happened to be theperfectone.”
