The Perfect Wedding. Arlene James

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СКАЧАТЬ Layne swallowed the question already on her tongue, reminding herself that their relationship was none of her business, and formed another.

      “What date did you have in mind?”

      Dedrah looked at Rod, and Rod looked at Layne. “How soon could you get it together?”

      Layne pressed both hands against the tabletop as if pressing down her exasperation. “Mr. Corley, I have to know what I’m putting together before I can answer that.”

      He shifted in his seat, irritation flashing across his face again. “Well, figure a couple hundred people,” he said flatly, “and a church big enough to hold them.”

      She decided she was due some irritation of her own. “Two hundred people constitute a fairly large wedding, Mr. Corley,” she pointed out. “Will all two hundred be expected at the reception, and what sort of reception are you planning? Will you be serving finger sandwiches or five courses, punch or champagne? Are you expecting out-of-town guests? Will you need special transportation? How many will be in the wedding party? A wedding of that size is usually formal, but how formal depends on a number of things. For instance, will there be a theme? What colors were you thinking of? Have you discussed music, readings, traditions? Who will sing, play, conduct? And what about lighting?”

      He held up a hand to silence her. “If I knew what was involved, Miss Harington, I wouldn’t be here.”

      “I’m just trying to give you an idea of what goes into some people’s version of a ‘proper’ wedding.”

      “All right. OK,” Rod said. “We have to start somewhere. So where would you advise?”

      Layne got a grip on herself. “We could start,” she said thoughtfully, “with the wedding gown. That would give me some idea of how formal an affair you want and how much money you expect to spend.”

      “Money’s no object,” he said quickly, but she had to wonder if he really knew what kind of money they could be talking about. The gown alone could command thousands, but somehow she didn’t think that was Dedrah March’s style—or Rod Corley’s, for that matter.

      “Let me show you a few things,” she suggested, looking pointedly at Dedrah to let the girl know that she was interested in her opinion. The girl nodded, and Corley pushed his chair around to her side, so that both of them faced Layne. She walked to a pair of wide, mirrored doors and opened them to reveal a large room lined with hanging gowns and a spacious freestanding changing booth.

      Quickly she went from one rack to another, extracting half a dozen dresses in various styles and price ranges. These she placed on a rolling rack, which she wheeled into the consultation area. There, she took them down one by one and held them out for the couple’s inspection, beginning with a simply tailored street-length sheath costing less than two hundred dollars. Rod shook his head sternly at this, and she smiled to herself. Well, it was progress, however slight. The next dress, tea length with a tulip skirt sewn onto a fitted, dropped-waist bodice received the same reception from him, as did the ankle-length princess-style with a demure sweetheart neckline and a sweep train. Dedrah March simply stared, saying nothing, her expression unreadable. When Layne produced the fourth dress, a floor-length traditional gown with a wedding ring collar and fitted bodice trimmed with lace, its full skirt elongated into a court train, Rod Corley nodded with satisfaction.

      “That’s more like it.”

      Dedrah glanced down at the little one in her lap, who was mumbling quietly around her fingers. She said nothing about the dress, but her frown indicated displeasure. Layne bit back another inappropriate question and looked to Rod Corley for guidance. His glance followed her own, and his mouth turned down at the corners. When he once again met her gaze, his irritation was evident, but he nodded for her to go on. Reluctantly Layne took another dress from the rack and presented it with a flourish.

      “This one is a good deal more formal,” she said. “The fitted bodice with portrait neckline and Basque waist is appliquéd in lace with seed pearls scattered throughout, as is the hem of the bouffant skirt. The chapel train is separate and extends about four feet from the waist. The cuffs of the Gibson sleeve are four inches long and also appliquéd. The dress runs about twelve hundred dollars, plus alterations.”

      Both she and Rod looked to Dedrah, whose frown was firmly fixed. Layne rehung the gown and took down the final one. It was considerably more ornate, satin and organza literally encrusted in lace, pearls and frosted sequins. There were bows, some small and others enormous enough to serve as a bustle, a keyhole back, a skirt so full it was both gathered and pleated at the natural waist, leg-of-mutton sleeves, jewel neckline and a detachable cathedral train some three yards in length. At five thousand dollars, it was the most expensive gown in the house. Yet Dedrah’s gaze was almost bland.

      “It’s very pretty,” she said, then shook her head. Rod Corley pitched forward in irritation, causing Layne to hastily intercede.

      “These are just examples of the different types of gowns,” she explained. “There are many, many styles to choose from. If I could just get an idea of what type of dress you’re interested in…”

      Again Dedrah turned those big, bland eyes up at her and shrugged. Rod Corley smacked his hat against his thigh in frustration, grinding his teeth.

      “She won’t choose,” he said. “I knew I should’ve made Sammy come!”

      At that Dedrah clamped her teeth down onto her bottom lip, bowed her head and began to cry. The baby, sensing her mother’s distress, squirmed and babbled loudly. Layne realized that soon they would both be in tears, thanks to Rod Corley, if she didn’t do something quickly. She shot him a look that told him just who she blamed for the whole situation and watched his mouth drop open, but she had other things to think about at the moment. Taking a deep breath, she sent up a quick, silent prayer for patience and guidance, then threw the dress over the rack, stepped forward and lifted the baby off Dedrah March’s lap.

      “It’s all right,” the girl protested, but she said nothing more as Layne thrust the baby at Corley.

      “Of course it is,” Layne said soothingly, “but perhaps you’d like a drink of water. Why don’t you come with me?”

      Dedrah nodded and let Layne help her to her feet. Layne ushered the girl through a louvered door set in the corner by the window, down a narrow hallway and through a second door into the workroom, where she pointed out the watercooler. While Dedrah filled a paper cone with water, Layne weighed the wisdom of what she was about to say. It mattered not that it might cost her a customer. She simply didn’t want to reduce the girl to tears again, but Dedrah appeared firmly in control now. Layne took a deep breath, whispered a quick prayer and folded her arms across her middle.

      “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” she asked.

      Dedrah looked up in surprise. “The wedding, you mean?” Layne nodded, and Dedrah smiled wistfully. “I do want to get married,” the girl said. “I just don’t know how it got so complicated.”

      “I’d say that was Mr. Corley’s doing,” Layne commented archly.

      Dedrah nodded glumly. “Yeah, I suppose it is, but he’s such a great guy, you know? He’s been really good to us, Heather and me, and he’s so generous. It’s just that he’s kind of a take-charge guy, and I guess he’s pretty hardheaded, too. Boy, once he’s made up his mind to something…” She let the sentence trail off and shook her head. “You know he’s just trying to do what’s best, but that doesn’t СКАЧАТЬ