And boy howdy, do those prayer warriors take their work seriously. The Fairfield Women of Prayer—known to the locals as the WOP-pers—have pulled many a wandering soul back from the abyss. Take Levi Nash, for instance. Fairfield High’s best-loved football hero tried to get involved with drugs his freshman year in college. Stress tried. Party-lovin’ Levi never stood a chance, not with the WOP-pers beating down heaven’s door on his behalf. Before he knew it, the dear boy, as they called him, had seen the error of his ways. He’d also transferred to a Bible college in the Dallas area, where he planned to major in theology. Go figure. No doubt the WOP-pers would pray in a godly wife for Levi and a couple of precocious kids to boot.
Yep, those prayer warriors clearly had an inside track straight to the Almighty. My grandmother—known to the locals as Queenie Fisher—insisted this had something to do with the fact that the WOP-pers didn’t discriminate. They invited women from all of the local denominations to pray in one accord. Even the Presbyterians. Whatever that meant.
“There’s something to be said for praying in unity, Katie,” Queenie would say as she wagged an arthritic finger my direction. “When you’re out of unity with your fellow believers, you’re prone to wandering.”
And heaven forbid any of us should wander. Not that the temptation rose very often. Most of us wouldn’t trade our small-town living for any amount of money. Okay, so my older brother Jasper talked incessantly about moving away to Houston, but Pop always managed to reel him back in by reminding him that he would one day manage our family’s hardware store. That seemed to pacify Jasper, at least for now. And Dewey, my middle brother, talked loosely about going to A&M but ended up at the local junior college, closer to home. This, after Queenie insisted she might just have a heart attack if a family member ever moved away. My grandmother had nothing to worry about where my youngest brother, Beau, was concerned. The way Mama coddled that boy, he would never leave home. Or learn to do his own laundry. Or get a job.
With the exception of my older cousin Lori-Lou Linder, no one in my circle had ever moved away to the big city. Who would want to leave paradise, after all? Certainly not me. Not now. Not ever. In my perfect small-town world, Daddy coached Little League, Mama directed the choir at our local Baptist church on Thursday nights, and Queenie sat enthroned as Fairfield’s most revered matriarch. And that was precisely how I liked it.
I pondered my idyllic life as I drove to the local Dairy Queen on the final Thursday in May. After a full day’s work at our family’s hardware store, I was due a break, and what better place than my favorite local hangout? Besides, Casey would be waiting on me in our special booth, the second one on the left. If I knew him well enough—and I did—he would have my Oreo blizzard waiting for me.
Waiting.
Casey.
Hmm. Seemed a little ironic that my boyfriend would be waiting on me for a change. How many months—okay, years—had I spent waiting on him to ask me to marry him? Seemed like forever. Oh well. Something as great as a marriage proposal to an amazing fella like Casey was worth the wait. Besides, I had every reason to believe it wouldn’t be long. The signs were all there. Any moment now I’d have a wedding to plan. Not that the lack of a proposal had slowed down my plans. I’d started mapping out my wedding at the age of six, when I’d first served as a flower girl. In the years since, I’d turned wedding planning into an art form.
A delicious shiver ran down my spine as I thought about how wonderful my big day would be. I’d planned out every single detail, right down to the music, the colors of the bridesmaid dresses, and even the flavor of the cake. Of course, all of it hinged on one thing: Casey’s proposal. Which, I felt sure, would arrive any day now.
Just as I pulled into a parking spot at the DQ, my cell phone rang. I recognized my cousin’s number. After turning off the car, I climbed out of the car and took the call. “Hey, Lori-Lou!”
Her usual cheerful voice sounded from the other end of the line with a hearty, “Hey, yourself! What are you up to today? Working?”
“Hmm? What?” I waved at Casey through the big plate-glass window at the front of the DQ, then pointed at my phone to let him know I’d be a minute. “Oh, yeah.” I turned my attention back to my cousin on the other end of the line. “Just wrapped up at the hardware store. We’ve been swapping out the window displays for the upcoming summer season. Now I’m meeting Casey at the Dairy Queen for an Oreo blizzard.”
A lingering sigh erupted from Lori-Lou’s end of the line. “I’m so jealous.”
“Of what?” I leaned against my car but found myself distracted by the pensive expression on Casey’s face. Weird.
“A blizzard sounds great in this heat.” She sighed again. “It’s sweltering outside and it’s not even summer yet.”
“Ah. It is hot.”
“Our AC is on the fritz and we don’t have the money right now to fix it. That’s not helping things. But honestly? I’m most jealous because I can’t remember the last time I had a minute to do anything fun with Jimmy like hang out at the Dairy Queen.”
“Aw, I’m sorry.” And I was. Sort of. I mean, how bad could it be, anyway? The girl had a great husband and three adorable—albeit rowdy—children.
“You have no idea what it’s like to be married, Katie.”
Gee, thanks.
“Well, married with kids, anyway. We never have date nights anymore. These three kiddos of ours are so—” The intensity of Lori-Lou’s voice grew as she hollered out, “Mariela, stop eating your sister’s gummy worms! Do you want to end up in time-out again?”
I giggled. “Nope. Don’t want to end up in time-out again. And give that ornery little girl a hug from me. I miss her.”
“Sure you do.”
“No, really. I miss all of your kiddos.”
“Stop it, Gilly!” Lori-Lou hollered. “If you smack your sister one more time, you’re going to spend the rest of the day in your room.” The shrill tone of her voice intensified further. “Why are you kids so out of control? You. Need. To. Calm. Down! You’re going to wake up your baby brother!” This led to a lengthy period of time where I lost my cousin altogether. She finally returned, sounding a little breathless. “Sorry about that . . . You know how it is.”
Actually, I didn’t. But she happened to be offering me a living illustration. “Oh, no problem. I—”
“Has Casey popped the question yet?”
Ugh. She would have to go there. Again. And how had we transitioned from ornery kids to marriage proposals? I couldn’t help the little lingering sigh that escaped. “Not yet, Lori-Lou. I tell you that every time you ask.”
My gaze shifted back through the window to my boyfriend, who gave me a little wave. My heart soared with hope as I waved back. I could almost see it now—me walking down the aisle in a fabulous dress, Casey standing at the front of the church with his groomsmen to his left. Perfect!
“Right, I know.” Lori-Lou’s voice startled me back to reality. “But do you think it’s going to happen soon? I have a special reason for asking this time, I promise.”
“Oh? Well, he has been acting a little suspicious.” I glanced through the window once again and noticed that Casey had engaged the elderly store manager in conversation. “I didn’t see him at all yesterday. He just sort of . . . disappeared.”
“Very odd.”
“That’s what I was thinking. I have a sneaking suspicion he went into Dallas to pick out my ring.” The very idea made my heart flutter. The image of Casey dropping to one knee made me giddy with anticipation. Where would he propose? How would he propose? When would he propose? My imagination nearly ran away with me as I pondered the possibilities.
“Ooh, you think it’s going to happen soon?” Lori-Lou giggled. “Well now, that’s perfect.”
I nodded, which was dumb, because Lori Lou couldn’t see me over the phone. “Yeah. Why else would he be gone all day? Casey never leaves Fairfield unless it’s important.”
“Good, because I’ve got news for yo
u that’s going to change everything. You’ll never guess!”
“Oh?” I shifted my phone to my other ear, nearly dropping my purse in the process. “Guess what?”
“You read Texas Bride magazine, right?”
Duh. Didn’t every bride-to-be?
Er, correction: soon-to-be bride-to-be.
“Religiously,” I said. “Why?”
“Have you seen the latest edition?” Lori-Lou’s voice grew more animated. “Well, have you?”
“No. I checked the rack at Brookshire Brothers last night, but it wasn’t in yet. We always lag a couple of days behind the stores in Dallas and Ft. Worth, though. Why?”
“Because . . .” She paused to stop a toddler tantrum in the background and then returned. “The magazine is linking up with Cosmopolitan Bridal in Dallas. You know about that shop, right?”
“Of course. They have the most exclusive bridal gowns in the state.”
“In the country,” Lori-Lou said. “And here’s the great part. Cosmopolitan and Texas Bride are teaming up to sponsor a contest. An essay contest. They’re going to give away a couture gown to one lucky bride-to-be. And—drum roll—the winner gets to be on the August cover of Texas Bride magazine! Can. You. Believe. It?”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, and I totally think you should enter. I definitely think you would stand a chance, since it’s an essay contest. Your writing skills are great.”
“You think?” I sucked in an excited breath and considered her words. In my wildest dreams I couldn’t imagine winning a dress from Cosmopolitan. “Oh, Lori-Lou, this is . . .”
“Amazing?” She giggled, then hollered out, “Gilly, if you hit your sister one more time, you will never eat another gummy worm as long as you live.”
I did my best to ignore the ranting going on from the kids in the background as I thought this through. Every gown at Cosmopolitan was a one-of-a-kind. Brides came from all over the country to have specialty gowns crafted for their big day, and they paid for it . . . to the tune of multiplied thousands of dollars per gown. All of this per Texas Bride magazine, of course.
“They’re going to tailor a special gown for the winner,” Lori-Lou added. “Can you even imagine?”
I could imagine, all right. The idea of walking down the aisle in an original Cosmopolitan gown made my head spin . . . in a good way.
“So, I have to write an essay? About what, specifically?” I glanced through the window of the Dairy Queen once more and gave Casey a thumbs-up to let him know I was okay. He glanced my way, nodded, and then turned his attention back to the restaurant’s manager.
“Five hundred words about your dream dress and your dream day,” Lori-Lou explained. “Easy-breezy, right? All of the essays are going to be read by Nadia James, and she’s going to choose the one that she feels the strongest about. Or, as the contest entry says, ‘the most compelling.’”
“Nadia James?” Whoa. Texas’s most touted dress designer would read my letter? The very idea made my palms sweat. The woman was revered among brides across the continent, not just in Texas. “Still,” I argued, “I’m sure hundreds—maybe thousands—of girls will enter. And most of them will actually be engaged.” I couldn’t help the little sigh that erupted. “You know?”
“I read the rules, even the fine print. There’s nothing in there that says you have to have a date set or anything like that. It just refers to the entrant as the ‘potential bride’ and leaves it at that. You’re a potential bride. I mean, c’mon. All single women are, right?”
Ugh.
“So, I think you’re okay to enter,” she said. “I really do.”
“You think?”
“Sure. It won’t hurt anything to try. You can write a compelling essay. Give it a title. Call it ‘Small-Town Wedding, Big-Town Dreams.’”
“‘Small-Town Wedding, Big-Town Dreams,’” I echoed. Sounded about right, though I certainly had no aspirations of becoming a big-town girl.
“What have you got to lose?” Lori-Lou added. “Wouldn’t you like to win a gown from Cosmopolitan Bridal?”
The idea of wearing a designer gown on my big day seemed like something out of a fairy tale, not something likely to happen to a girl like me. Still, what would it hurt to write an essay? Maybe I could play around with the idea a little.
After having an Oreo blizzard with my sweetie.
I waved at Casey and then said my goodbyes to Lori-Lou, promising her that I would at the very least pray about it. No harm in that, after all. Surely the good Lord would show me what to do. And maybe, just maybe, I could throw in a “Please let Casey pop the question soon” prayer while I was at it.
After all, what was a potential bride . . . without a groom?
Award-winning author Janice Thompson enjoys tickling the funny bone. She got her start in the industry writing screenplays and musical comedies for the stage, and she has published over ninety books for the Christian market. She has played the role of mother of the bride four times now and particularly enjoys writing lighthearted, comedic, wedding-themed tales. Why? Because making readers laugh gives her great joy!
Janice formerly served as vice president of Christian Authors Network (CAN) and was named the 2008 Mentor of the Year for American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW). She is active in her local writing group, where she regularly teaches on the craft of writing. In addition, she enjoys public speaking and mentoring young writers. She recently opened an online bakery, Nina’s Cakes and Cookies, where she specializes in wedding-themed sweets (just like Jasmine)!
Janice is passionate about her faith and does all she can to share the joy of the Lord with others, which is why she particularly enjoys writing. Her tagline, “Love, Laughter, and Happy Ever Afters!” sums up her take on life.
She lives in Spring, Texas, where she leads a rich life with her family, a host of writing friends, and two mischievous dachshunds. She does her best to keep the Lord at the center of it all. You can find out more about Janice at www.janiceathompson.com or www.freelancewritingcourses.com.
Books by Janice Thompson
* * *
WEDDINGS BY BELLA
Fools Rush In
Swinging on a Star
It Had to Be You
That’s Amore
BACKSTAGE PASS
Stars Collide
Hello, Hollywood!
The Director’s Cut
WEDDINGS BY DESIGN
Picture Perfect
The Icing on the Cake
The Dream Dress
A Bouquet of Love
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Janice Thompson, That's Amore (Weddings by Bella Book #4): A Novel
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