Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 121871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
“This is it? We found it already?” Taran searched for reassurance as she studied herself in the mirror.
“It’s perfect,” Nee insisted. “It’s so you. Classic, elegant, but sexy too. Yes, yes, yes.”
She looked at me. “London?”
“You are so beautiful. Quinn is going to cry when you walk down the aisle toward him in this.”
Cammie huffed. “Please, he’s going to cry no matter what she’s wearing.”
Taran let out a pleased chuckle as she turned back to the mirror. Then suddenly her eyes welled with her own tears. “I can’t believe I’m finally marrying him.”
At the sound of her sob, we all descended on her, pulling her into the circle of our embrace. I was pretty sure the bridal store owner and her assistant thought we were crazy.
But they didn’t know this wedding was over twenty years in the making.
“Oh goodness, I haven’t stained the dress, have I?” Taran whispered frantically as we pulled back.
“No, you’re fine.”
“Is everything all right?” the bridal owner asked with surprising calm. Then I realized she’d probably seen a lot of emotional stuff going down in her store.
“This is it.” Taran gestured to the dress. “This is the one.”
“Oh perfect! It’s awfy braw, that one. I loved it as soon as it came into the store. Let me just take your measurements for alterations.”
Her assistant offered us champagne while we waited, and Taran asked to see their selection of bridesmaid dresses.
None of them really appealed to us, so we decided to move on to the next store once Taran’s wedding dress arrangements were all made. The owners of the next store, two older women, seemed a little put out Taran had already found her wedding dress until they realized three of us were looking for bridesmaid gowns.
Unfortunately, we couldn’t agree on anything in their selection either and I was beginning to flag. Thankfully, Taran had factored in a lunch break and booked a table at her favorite Italian restaurant. The way she navigated the city so easily reminded me that this had been Taran’s home for half her life.
The food at the Italian restaurant, however, was amazing. Nee and I had spent two weeks before college traveling and Italy was one of our stops. The food at this Glaswegian restaurant was incredibly authentic, and I said so.
“Oh, Glasgow has a big Scottish Italian population that has really influenced the food here,” Taran explained. “Italian restaurants, ice cream shops, even fish and chip shops, believe it or not.”
“Ice cream?” Nee asked. “I’ve been craving ice cream lately.”
“I know just the place,” Taran promised.
A few hours later, we’d probably eaten too much for a dress fitting, but none of us cared, and I felt marginally better after eating. Still, I was drained and desperate for us to find something.
One of the issues was procuring a style of dress that would still fit Nee in a few months’ time. When we finally found a dress that miraculously suited us all, I almost wept with relief. It was the opposite of Taran’s fitted wedding gown. More Grecian/Regency style where it nipped in at the breasts and then flowed out in layers of silk chiffon. The sleeves were tiny drapes of fabric that slouched over our shoulders and there were fitted cups in the bodice to create a perfect sweetheart neckline that did amazing things for our cleavage.
Rather than go for the same color in different styles, Taran wanted to do the opposite. Same style, different colors. We chose a sage green for me to complement my hair, a dark pink for Cammie, and a pale pink that suited Nee’s blond coloring. Heather, Quinn’s daughter, was Taran’s maid of honor, and we chose a forest-green shade to put aside for Heather to try on when she got back from a European trip with her girlfriend.
She’d planned the trip to celebrate the end of her freshman year of uni before Taran had planned this. Taran was unaware of the trip and had pushed her bridal appointments out to the very last minute to accommodate Heather finishing her studies, only for Heather to announce this romantic getaway. Taran didn’t want to push the dress hunt any further out in case alterations couldn’t be done in time for the wedding, so we’d gone ahead without Heather. Taran’s soon-to-be-stepdaughter felt awful about the miscommunication, so Taran was trying to reassure her every step of the way. She’d been sending Heather pics all morning and now sent her a picture of me in the sage green with the question “But in forest green for you?”
Heather had replied ten minutes later with a “YES! Perfect!”
After we settled everything at the bridal store, we walked out into a drizzly afternoon and decided to hop over to the pub across the street. Once settled at a booth, Cammie turned to me. “I’m still pissed off that I didn’t get to help you plan your wedding, London.”