Page 28 of Slipperless 5

Pointing in the direction of the bag, I asked, “What is that doing here? It was more than fifty thousand dollars!”

Clutching one edge of it, Cheri shrugged.

“Maybe you have a secret admirer.”

Just then, I dropped my hands away from my mouth. Barely able to form a sentence, let alone utter a single word, I muttered, “Please don’t get that dirty. I can’t possibly afford to pay for it.”

Once more, Cheri spoke up. With a dismissive tone, she waved her hand at me and said, “Oh shut up, Fiona. Where’s your sense of adventure? Let’s try this on one more time.”

I shot to my feet.

“No way! Are you crazy?”

“Well,” she scoffed. “If you won’t do it voluntarily, I guess we’ll have to force the issue.”

And almost before I realized it, my other three friends descended upon me and began to tear my clothes away from my body. In seconds, they’d gotten me in an almost nude state, forced me into the dress and zipped me up.

I wobbled in place, half-dazed by the speed of their assault. But they left me almost no time to recover. In fact, no sooner had they zipped me up than they paused and looked at one another simultaneously.

“Makeup,” they said, echoing each other in unison.

I looked at all of them as if they were quite insane.

“Makeup?” I mumbled. “You guys are being ridiculous. We’re just going to ruin the dress and…”

Just then, Kelly stepped forward.

“No, no, Fiona. Everything will be fine. We just want to take some pictures, so you know what you’re going to look like on your wedding day. That’s all.”

It was clear my protests were going to go unheeded. So I decided to give in to my friend’s demands, if only to get this over as soon as possible. Over the next thirty minutes or so, they primped and preened and poked me, fixing my hair and my makeup as I sat in dutiful obedience.

Nearing the end of my patience, I grumbled, “I hope you guys are happy.”

Just as soon as I muttered those words, an idea occurred to Cheri.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, as she clapped her hands together. “You know what would be perfect? Let’s go get pictures of Fiona on the veranda!”

The girls shrieked and yelped in unison, and before I could utter a single word of protest, they tugged me out of the bedroom and began to drag me down the hall. I struggled to maintain my footing, nearly tripping and falling flat on my face more than once.

In a last-second shriek of protest, I exclaimed, “I’m going to get this dress filthy! Please, be careful!”

But almost before I could finish uttering the words, we stumbled out onto the veranda in a disorganized jumble. As soon as we did, my friends released me, freeing me of their grasp. As they did, momentum carried me to the middle of the large wooden structure.

Pausing, I noted the entire area glowed orange under the retreat of a fading afternoon sun. Immediately, my eyes began to scan the surroundings. In every direction, eight foot tall torches burned with two foot high yellow flames. I paused for a moment and glanced at my friends, who’d backed away from me as we entered.

Noticing their retreat, I turned and looked in the direction of the bay.

There, at the far end of the veranda, stood Gabe, clad in all white. Next to him, stood another man with a thick book, clutched in his grasp. All of a sudden, I began to feel lightheaded and confused. Everywhere I looked, faces stared back at me, with a mix of expectance and curiosity framing them.

As dizziness overwhelmed me, Gabe yelled out “Someone grab her!”

Almost as soon as he had, I felt the reassuring comfort of my friends’ hands as they wrapped around my torso, supporting my body, just in time to prevent a calamitous fall. As they surrounded me, I rotated my head, looking at each of them individually.

“What’s happening? What’s going on?”

But they remained silent, and after steadying me, they nudged me towards Gabe. Smiling, he turned his body in my direction and walked towards me. After a few steps, we met, and he extended his hands.

Looking up into his eyes, I returned his reach without thought. Hues of red, yellow and orange draped across his chiseled features. The brilliant glow of the setting sun caused his eyes to sparkle with reassurance.

“You’re breathtaking, Fiona,” he said, as he faced me fully.

I glanced down at my impromptu attire. “Gabe, I…”

As soon as I began to speak, Gabe waved me off.

“You already said yes, Fiona. You already said yes.”

With my head spinning, I leaned against Gabe as we faced the man with the book. Before I could take it in, he began rattling off a charming series of tales about the importance of the bond between man—and wife.

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