13. The Virgin Rug
THE VIRGIN RUG
CHELSEA
“Rex actually thought I wasn’t excited about our wedding. It nearly broke my heart.” I lamented to Maisy and Sophie, telling them all about the visit to the cake shop in Holly Creek. We sat in the large dressing room of couture gown designer Kleinenfelds.
Saddened as soon as I realized my mother’s wedding gown hadn’t preserved well over the years, the fabric aged, delicate, and yellowed, I agreed to a new gown.
With only six months to go, we were behind schedule, but Miriam’s friend and famous A-list designer Nicholas Kleinenfelds himself gave her his guarantee the gowns would be ready in time.
The thing was, I wouldn’t make this important decision without my mother involved, no matter how many times Miriam tried to pressure me to make an appointment with the designer.
It just so happened that this weekend we’d be attending Maisy’s graduation ceremony from Columbia, so it all worked out for Mom to be in the city and a part of important days for both of her girls.
“ Of course I’m happy about this wedding and marrying Rex.” I lowered my voice for the next part, in case prying—India’s—ears were outside the room. I wouldn’t put it past her to pop in with a microphone catching bits of our conversation. “It’s not every day a woman like me gets shoved into this world of riches where I can spend, spend, spend like money has no end.”
“Hm. Yeah, I could see how that’d be a problem.” Sophie cocked her head and laughed, bumping me with her hip. “Just kidding. Did you have to sign a prenup? Isn’t that something rich people do when they marry beneath their status?”
Maisy laughed. “This isn’t Downton Abbey. This is the modern age. Chelsea isn’t beneath Rex, and he wouldn’t ask for that just for money’s sake, would he?”
“I mean, there’s rich, but the Buchanan’s are obscenely rich. Sometimes I think how it must be nice to be so loaded. But all that money…what a burden as well.” I shook my head.
Recently, when I met up with Miriam for coffee to discuss the schedule for the wedding day, I happened to view the spreadsheet where she left her binder open to the page she kept meticulous calculations. I almost choked on my cappuccino seeing the total spent so far on the bottom line.
“The other day, Miriam spent ten thousand dollars on a custom made virgin white wool rug that will run down the aisle at Fifth Avenue Church. Only it’ll be unrolled right before I walk down, and rolled right back up after. Ten thousand dollars and I’ll be the only one to tread on it before it gets tossed away or donated. I could think of better ways to spend the money and not waste it on the wedding day.”
“She knows you’re not a virgin, right?” Maisy guffawed. She should be the one to talk, saving herself all these years. At least, as far as I knew, she and Brooks never…
Anyway, they’d cooled things off between them for now, and it was probably for the best. Long-distance relationships were hard enough, but being oceans apart once she leaves this week on the ship? It was better this way so she could focus on things as she prepared to depart New York. Damn, I’d miss my sister.
“Knock, knock. Did I hear someone’s a virgin? You, Chelsea?” India entered the dressing room, ready to pounce on this bit of juicy gossip on camera. I grit my teeth against the intrusion.
“No, it was a joke. What’s the game plan for today?” I diverted her attention away from virgin territory. She consulted her clipboard.
“Let’s see. The crew and I just finished interviews with the mothers and Agnes. What a shame to hear about your mother’s wedding gown; she nearly cried on camera telling the tale of her love story with your dad.”
I hated hearing this. India might be a good producer, but really, did the viewing audience need to see my mother crying?
“Anyway, you and Maisy each have three gowns to try on and show off. We’ll film the mother’s reactions. Then we’ll take a lunch break, and wrap up with my interview with you. It’ll all take about four hours total, with a brief lunch break, I estimate.”
“Great. We’ll be right out.” I almost shut the door on her and waited until I heard her footsteps tread away, then let out a sigh.
“You’ll get through this, Chelsea,” Maisy assured me, squeezing my arms.
“It’s fine, really. I’m about to marry an amazing man, and that’s all that matters. So, I can put up with cameras intruding on us a little.” I shrugged it off as best I could.
“I’m so happy for you.” Maisy hugged me tight, squeezing the air out of me, then reaching for some bobby pins. In the mirror, I watched as she pinned bits of my hair up, leaving the rest down in a half-up do.
“Are you going to be okay? Because I know you were pretty sad over Brooks after the spring break trip, and we have had little time to talk. Oh, I like this look.” I eyed myself side to side, trying to image a veil and tiara for my wedding day hairdo.
“I’m not going to lie. It’s been tough to feel so many things for him, when I also want to pursue my career. I mean, what woman in their right mind would turn down this cool opportunity to sail the world? It’s hard to say if Brooks really understood that.” With her eyes and entire face downcast, I felt bad about how hard on them I’d been about their budding relationship.
But in true Maisy fashion, she refused to talk more about it, moving on quickly. “Now, which gown shall we parade in front of the cameras first?”
I let it go, and hoped for the best. Her whole life was ahead of her and the last thing she needed to think about was a man. I vowed not to bring up Brooks again.