Never a Bridesmaid

  Turned out, he looked pretty great in that too. And I must’ve looked okay after I slipped a hot pink-and-white “Let Them Eat Cake!” apron over my head, because he leaned my way and whispered, “You look like a pro, Southpaw.” All I could do was smile. Well, smile and listen as Nadine gave me instructions for the cookie dough.

  Turned out, her recipe was a little different from mine—only one egg instead of two and baking powder instead of soda. Interesting. A bit more flour, too, so the cookies would hold their shape.

  I mixed up three batches of the dough and then, at her instruction, put them into large zip-lock bags and placed them in the freezer to chill for a few minutes. While we waited, she prepped the royal icing. Or, rather, she had Derrick prep the royal icing. Turned out, the guy was pretty handy. Who knew? He kept a watchful eye on his whirring mixer, and I helped roll out the cookies and cut them to look like teacups.

  A short time later, I rolled out more dough and filled a couple more trays while the first two baked in the oven. I couldn’t believe how much better Nadine’s recipe seemed to be working. If the woman had seen my attempts at home, she would’ve cringed. Or maybe not. Maybe she would’ve taken my mess, plopped it back into the mixing bowl, and reworked it with her magic fingers.

  While we worked, Derrick and I kept a playful banter back and forth between us. Nadine joined in, her voice ringing with laughter as she told story after story about Derrick’s childhood. I’d never had so much fun baking before. Of course, that might have a little something to do with the yummy-looking guy scraping the royal icing from the edges of the mixing bowl.

  Nadine separated the white mounds of sweet, fluffy icing into several smaller bowls and began to add coloring gel. I watched as she worked to get the consistencies just right—thicker for the piping icing and thinner for the flooding icing. She passed off the bottles of icing to me just as the first two trays of cookies came out of the oven. They looked and smelled amazing. And they were shaped like perfect little teacups. The ones I’d made at home had looked more like little round blobs.

  Derrick tried to snag one of the hot cookies from the tray, but his mother slapped his hand with an oven mitt. “Not on your life,” she said. “These are for the bridal shower.”

  “But I’m the best man.”

  “If you want to live to be the best man, you’d better keep your fingers to yourself.”

  He grunted and waited until she’d turned toward me, then nabbed a cookie. I didn’t let on that I had seen him do it, but from the pained expression on his face, I knew it must’ve been too hot to eat. Still, he didn’t make a sound. Obviously, the boy didn’t want to tip off his mama.

  “Speaking of bridesmaids, I hear you’re the maid of honor in this wedding.” Nadine gave me an admiring nod. “Never got to play that role myself.”

  “Oh, no, ma’am.” I put another tray of cookies into the oven. “I’m just a bridesmaid.”

  “No you’re not.” Derrick brushed the cookie crumbs from his hands and stared at me so intently I almost felt as if he could see my thoughts. “You’re not just a bridesmaid. You’re the one holding things together.”

  “I . . . I am?”

  “Sure. And I know why. The person who cares the most does the most. You clearly care the most, and Crystal is lucky to have you, not just as a sister, but as her go-to person. She really needs that right now.”

  Well, now. If that didn’t make a girl feel better about things, nothing would. I stood in complete silence for a moment, unable to think clearly, what with his flattery going straight to my head and all.

  “Speaking of holding it all together, let’s see if these cookies hold their shape once we get them onto the cooling racks, shall we?” Nadine dove right back into the baking project, never realizing that my heart was thump-thump-thumping after hearing her son’s sweet words.

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Derrick take another cookie and pop it into his mouth.

  “I have eyes in the back of my head, son.” Nadine turned to face him, hands on hips. “And laser-sharp hearing. Now, quit eating the merchandise or this poor girl won’t have a thing to take to that party tomorrow.”

  We didn’t really have to worry about that. By the time the sun went down, we’d baked and decorated five dozen gorgeous teacup cookies. Nadine even took the time to help me with the cupcakes I’d left to the last minute. After feeding me dinner.

  Derrick stayed put, all smiles and fuzzy conversation, as if working in the kitchen making teacup cookies with a discombobulated bridesmaid was something he did every day.

  Maybe he did, in between innings. Or maybe, just maybe, this handsome best man was up to something else altogether. Yep. The cute little signature wink he gave me over the cupcake tray was a dead giveaway. Looked like Derrick Richardson was stirring up something a little sweeter than cookies and cupcakes. Maybe he was tossing me a pass. Hopefully my catching skills were a little better than my baking skills.

  I could barely sleep that night. My thoughts ping-ponged between the upcoming shower and the amazing time I’d had with Derrick and his mom during our bake-a-thon. Still, I needed my beauty sleep. I finally dozed off around one in the morning, but the oddest dream kept my imagination going.

  In the dream, Crystal and Phillip got married on home plate on a baseball field. Derrick stood on the pitcher’s mound, tossing teacup-shaped cookies at them. Nadine served as umpire, critiquing my swing when I came up to bat. And Sienna—ditzy, curvaceous Sienna—coached the whole thing from the sidelines while having her nails done. No wonder the game was so wonky.

  I awoke around seven, my head pounding. Still, I had to get busy. All the bridesmaids would be at the church early enough to set up for the noontime tea party. I could hardly wait to get started. With my sister’s happiness at the forefront of my mind, I pressed any daydreams about Derrick aside and got out of bed.

  By ten, the bridesmaids, Sienna included, were gathered in the fellowship hall of our church, Grace Chapel. I couldn’t quite believe the maid of honor had actually shown up—and on time, no less—until I learned Derrick planned to swing by the church at eleven to drop off tickets for an upcoming game. Ugh. No wonder Sienna had made the extra effort.

  My sweetheart of a baking partner came into the fellowship hall, walked right past the maid of honor, and headed straight for me.

  “Hey, you.” A broad smile lit his face. “Long time no see.”

  “I know, right?” I didn’t even try to hide a smile as I stared into his twinkling eyes. “You never call, you never write, you never bake me cookies . . .”

  He laughed. “Well, I’m here now. Speaking of which, this room looks great.”

  “Thanks. It took a village, but we got it done.”

  He gestured toward the tables, all decked out with teapots and teacups. “I get it now. It all makes sense. The cookies, the cupcakes, all of it. This is themed from A to Z.”

  “From T to T.” I laughed. “Do you really like it?”

  He smiled. “Well, I’ve never actually been to a tea party before, but if I had to go to one, I guess this would be it.” A playful laugh followed.

  Apparently Sienna noticed our interaction. If looks could kill, she would’ve taken me down with her hateful glare. I did my best to ignore her. Still, as Derrick launched into a jovial conversation about all the fun we’d had baking together, she and the other girls hung on his every word. I could see Cassie glance my way as if to ask, “Really? You baked with this guy?” I would explain later. Right now, we needed to get back to work before the guests started arriving.

  Derrick hung around long enough to hand out the tickets, not just to Sienna but to all of us. Then he headed out, giving me his best Cub Scout salute, which I returned. Actually, I think I returned it with a Girl Scout salute, but I couldn’t be sure. I’d only lasted in the scouts one year.

  As soon as he left, the girls swarmed me, asking question after question. I did my best to answer them as we finished decorating and sett
ing out the sandwiches. Sienna kept her distance, but the penetrating glare continued.

  My sister arrived at eleven forty-five. She ooh’d and ah’d when she saw what we’d done, and she greeted the guests with great enthusiasm as they came into the room, but the strained smile I saw as she hugged her friends told me something wasn’t right. I did my best to push any concerns aside and focus on the task at hand. I had a party to host, after all. Clearly, Sienna didn’t plan to take charge. She’d disappeared into the kitchen to make a call. Go figure. So, as the guests arrived, ready for an afternoon of tea-party delight, I dove in, playing the role of hostess. And I didn’t mind a bit. My sister was definitely worth it.

  The shower—Thank you, Lord!—came off without a hitch. Even the ladies of Grace Chapel declared it the most glorious tea party they had ever attended. And boy, did Crystal ever rake in the goods. I’d never seen so many shower gifts. Still, as we loaded her car later, I could tell she wasn’t herself.

  I pressed the last gift box into the backseat and shut the door, then turned to face her. “Did you enjoy the shower?” I felt a little sad that I had to ask, but the somber expression on her face made me wonder.

  “It was beautiful, Mari. You did an amazing job.” She climbed into the driver’s seat and put the key in the ignition, but never looked my way. Very strange.

  I had no choice but to press the issue. “Crystal? What’s going on?”

  She shook her head, then started the engine and pulled on her seat belt.

  I know my sister pretty well. Something was very, very wrong here. “Crystal?”

  “You were amazing, Mari. I mean that. You always are. But the gifts?” She gestured to her backseat. “It’s pointless to load them in my car. Pointless to take them home. They all have to be returned.”

  “I’m sorry . . . what?”

  “They have to be returned.”

  “Are you saying you already have all these things? These are duplicates? If so, I had no idea. I—”

  “No. I’m saying that I’ve changed my mind.”

  My stomach felt like my heart had dropped straight into it. “Changed your mind about what? The things you registered for?”

  “No. The wedding. I’ve changed my mind about the wedding.” A lone tear trickled down her cheek.

  “W-what?” Surely I’d misunderstood. “Are you saying you’re not getting married?”

  She looked over at me, her eyes brimming. “I don’t know. Maybe. I’m just saying that I’ve had what Mama calls a ‘Come to Jesus’ meeting.”

  “With who? Phillip?”

  “No.” She sniffled. “With myself.”

  “You had a ‘Come to Jesus’ meeting with yourself?”

  “Yes. About what I want, I mean.”

  “In a husband?”

  “No, not that.” Crystal brought her hand down on the steering wheel with a thud. “I know what I want in a husband. I adore Phillip. It’s just . . . the wedding.”

  “What about it?”

  “It’s not what I want. I mean, I don’t want a big fancy wedding reception at a country club. I don’t want a thousand-dollar, five-tiered Crème de la Crème cake. I don’t want Dad to spend his life’s savings paying fifty-five dollars a head for guests to eat some chicken dish they won’t even remember the next day.”

  “Um, sixty-five.”

  “Sixty-five.” She paused. “I want something normal. Something I’ll want to tell my kids and grandkids about.”

  “Are you saying you’re changing the plan for the reception? Changing the venue?” Surely not. “The wedding is in less than a month.”

  She sighed and turned off the engine. “I know. It doesn’t make any sense, does it? But Mari, I just don’t think I can justify a show-offish wedding. I’ve never been that sort of girl. I’m the ‘Let’s go to a third-world country and take care of orphans’ kind of girl, you know?”

  “True.”

  “When I went to Haiti last summer, I saw all those kids living in poverty, and it broke my heart. I promised myself I’d come back a different person. I don’t like being a spoiled-rotten brat.”

  “You’re not. That’s not you.”

  She sighed. “I know. I’m just weak. I can’t say no to Phillip’s parents. But I need to get past that. I need to be who I really am, on the inside. And I’m not the kind of girl who throws away money on a ridiculously expensive reception just because she feels pressured.”

  “So, you’re changing . . . everything? You do know your wedding is in three weeks, right? And the guests already have their invitations with the address for the country club.”

  “I know, I know.” She groaned. “It’s too late, isn’t it?”

  “Maybe.” I glanced around to make sure no one else was listening in. Off in the distance, Gillian gave me a wave as she got into her car. I waved back, doing my best to look nonchalant, and then turned to my sister. “So let’s talk about this. What’s really troubling you?”

  She leaned forward and put her head on the steering wheel. I could barely make out her words as she said, “I feel like I’m trapped, Mari. I have to do what his parents say. Mostly his mom. She’s so forceful.” Crystal’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Oh, it’s all couched in Southern sweetness—honey this and sweetie that. I even heard it at the shower today. ‘Crystal, dear girl, don’t you think the bridesmaids’ shoes should be dyed pink to match their dresses?’ But it’s still manipulation, just the same. And I’m afraid it’s just the first of a thousand times that’s going to happen in the next thirty or forty years.”

  “So what you’re really worried about is not being able to stand up for yourself.”

  “Yeah.” She sighed and lifted her head.

  “Have you told Phillip that?”

  She shook her head. “Ever since our breakup—and his mom was the one who put doubts in his head, by the way—I’ve been scared to tell him what I’m really thinking or feeling.”

  “Because you’re afraid of losing him?”

  It took her a moment, but she finally nodded. “And because I don’t want to stir up animosity between him and his mom. She’s so strong willed.” Crystal rolled her eyes. “You get my point.”

  “Then it’s more important than ever to have a heart-to-heart with him. Maybe it’s not really his parents you’re upset with. Maybe it’s him. You’re trying to please him because you’re scared your relationship will fall apart if you don’t.”

  My sister released a sob so quickly that it startled me. Seconds later, she was crumpled over the steering wheel, tears flowing. I knelt down next to the open door and let her cry it out. Then I gave her the best advice I could by whispering, “I’ll be praying, Crystal. I promise I will. But don’t do anything rash, okay? Maybe the wedding is just the tipping point. You know?”

  Crystal nodded just as her cell phone rang. She fished it out of her purse and looked at the screen, her eyes growing wide. “It’s Phillip. I . . . I can’t talk to him now.” She pulled down the visor and checked her appearance. As if he could see her.

  “You don’t have to talk to him right now. Wait until you’re calmer. Pray, and then call him back.”

  She nodded just as the phone stopped ringing. “Okay. I will.”

  “It won’t hurt him to wait an hour or two, Crystal. Send him a text and tell him that you’ll call him back in a while.”

  She blew out a slow breath and then did just that. I stood and gave her an encouraging smile. “I’m going to pray that God gives you a peace in your heart when you come to the right decision about the wedding. Until then, just rest. Don’t over think it. Don’t worry about Dad or the venue or anything. Just pray.”

  “I will.” She gave me a woeful smile. “Thank you, Mari. It helped so much to get that off my chest. You have no idea.” A little pause followed as she glanced up at me. “You’re my go-to person once again.”

  “I like being your go-to person. I hope I can still play that role, even after you’re an old married woman.”
r />   That got a chuckle out of her, the first I’d seen in a while. Still, I knew my sister had a lot to think and pray about. I would keep my promise and pray too. Surely the Lord would calm troubled waters and this wedding could move forward as planned. I hoped.

  I climbed into my car, my thoughts reeling. Would my sister really go through with this? Would she change the venue for the reception? If so, would there be time to pull together a new plan? I sat with the car in park, deep in thought.

  Until my phone rang. I recognized Derrick’s number right away and did my best to steady my breathing before answering. He greeted me with a carefree, “Hey,” followed by, “How did the shower go?”

  “It was . . .” I paused as I thought through the events of the day. “Really nice.”

  “You hesitated.”

  “Did I?”

  “You did.” Now he paused. “She didn’t like the cookies?”

  “Oh, she loved them. Everyone did. And the cupcakes too. Please tell your mom thank you from all the guests. They were thrilled.”

  “Then why don’t you sound thrilled?”

  “I . . .”

  The intensity of his voice grew. “C’mon, Mari. What aren’t you telling me? Was Sienna up to her tricks at the shower?”

  “No. Sienna was okay, actually. She even helped clear the tables afterward. It’s more my sister this time.”

  “Crystal?” Derrick sounded worried. “Is she sick?”

  Oh boy. I’d painted myself into a corner, hadn’t I? How could I answer his questions without giving away too much personal information? “Not really sick, exactly.”

  “What, then?” I could hear the concern in his voice. “She’s not getting cold feet, is she?”

  Did he have to come out and ask that? I couldn’t lie to him, now could I?

  “Mari?”

  “I think she’s just going through a weird phase. She’ll snap out of it.” My next words had a pleading tone. “Promise me you won’t say anything to Phillip. I’m sure she’ll wake up tomorrow and everything will be perfect again. She’s just having an off day, maybe.” I paused and then sighed. “Or maybe she’s still reeling from what they went through a few months ago. Maybe that whole breakup thing shook her confidence more than we realized.”