32. Rosie
32
ROSIE
Despite using my best methods of persuasion, I was never able to convince my mother to cancel the appointments she made at several bridal boutiques. I’m not surprised she wouldn’t give in, but man, did I hope she would.
I leave Daire and Sammy at home and head for the hotel to pick up my mom and sister.
My mom didn’t want to stay with us because, in her words, she needs her sleep and can’t have a baby waking her up.
I park in front of the hotel and send her a text that I’ve arrived.
The day hasn’t even fully begun, and I’m already exhausted. I asked Bertie to come, but she gave me a vague excuse about having a prior obligation. Something’s going on with her, I can sense it, and I’m going to have to get to the bottom of it.
But I can’t dwell on that today. I have to focus on surviving a shopping trip with my mother.
Under other circumstances, I would’ve loved seeing her and Grace.
While I wait, I take a long gulp of my iced espresso—then another for good measure—and let out a sigh.
“You can do this,” I mutter to myself.
Five minutes later, my mom and Grace stroll out of the hotel. Once they’re settled, my mom in front and Grace in back, I turn in my seat and give my little sister a wide smile. “Gracie! I missed you!”
“I missed you too.” She clicks her buckle in place. “Do I get to wear a pretty dress too?”
I bring a hand to my chest, smiling at her honest question. “Absolutely. You’re going to be my maid of honor—if you want to be, that is.”
“I get to wear a pretty dress?”
Amusement bubbles up inside me. Clearly, the dress is what she cares about most. “Of course.”
She nods succinctly. “Then count me in.”
My mom clears her throat, garnering my attention. She’s buckled, purse sitting primly in her lap. “Your father sends his love.”
I flinch and face the windshield. “I’m sure he does.”
For months, I’ve been doing my best to avoid thoughts of what a mess my relationship with my dad is. I’ve always been a daddy’s girl, and not talking to him has been hard. But we’re both annoyingly stubborn, and I refuse to apologize when I did nothing wrong.
My mom reaches over, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “I’m sorry, sweetie.”
There’s no point in rehashing this, so I unlock my phone and click on the map icon. “What’s the address for the first place?”
She gives me a concerned frown, but she goes easy on me and simply rattles off the address so I can put it in my phone.
Twenty minutes later, I pull into a parking spot at a small boutique.
Show time.
I take my coffee with me, knowing I’ll need the caffeine to get me through the day.
The boutique is small but cute, with walls lined with dress after dress in varying styles.
My mom goes straight for the sleek, fitted dresses, while Grace is drawn to the big princess ballgowns.
Me?
I park my butt on a chair and simply wait for my mother to pick dresses she wants to see me in.
I know her well enough to understand that this is purely about her living out her own fantasy. What I like won’t matter, so why get my hopes up?
If Daire and I are going to have a real wedding, I’ll have to find a dress on my own another time. Maybe I can convince Bertie to come too.
I cross my legs, smiling when I get a text from Daire. It’s a photo of Sammy’s mostly gummy smile. His bottom two teeth are fully in, and he has one coming out on the top that’s been giving him a fit. Drool clings to his chin, but he’s still the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
“What are you smiling at?”
I turn my phone around so my mom can see. She wrinkles her nose. “Your kids will be cuter.”
“Mom!” I scold, tucking my phone away. That one simple sentence sends fissures spreading through my heart.
She sniffs, lifting her chin. “It’s true.”
I shake my head and stand so I can get away from her. “Sammy is a beautiful baby,” I mutter as I walk away.
Can this day be over yet?
Stopping in front of a rack of dresses, I browse through them mindlessly, distracted by anger and disappointment.
A throat clears nearby, catching my attention. A woman dressed in head-to-toe black approaches, wearing a friendly smile. “I’m Amy. I’ll be helping you today. Has anything caught your eye?”
I open my mouth to tell her I haven’t even really looked yet. That this is for my mom’s benefit not my own. But, of course, my mother beats me to it.
“I have a few over here I want you to pull for her to try.”
So it begins.
“I didn’t choose this place.” My mom sounds rather proud of this odd statement as I park in front of the final bridal shop. From the outside, at least, it’s a tiny hole-in-the-wall place.
“What does that mean? You gave me the address.” I turn in my seat and assess her, confused.
“Daire made this appointment for you.”
“Huh?” My heart pounds out a strange rhythm in my chest. “Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know, but he’s so in love with you, Rosie,” she gushes, clasping her hands in front of her. “I see now why you rushed into marrying him. If I found a man that obsessed with me, I wouldn’t want to wait either.”
I rub my face and force myself to breathe, trying to grasp what she’s saying. “He made this appointment?”
“Honestly, Rosie,” she sighs heavily, “you can be so dense sometimes. That’s what I said.”
From the back seat, Gracie groans. “Can we hurry up? I want dinner.”
Honestly, same.
My mom’s been on a rampage, determined to find the perfect dress, and forced us to skip right over lunch. I haven’t scored any points with her yet. I’m definitely on her shit list after finding fault in every ballgown she’s trapped me in. I wouldn’t put it past her to buy one anyway, just to spite me.
She looks out the window now at the tiny shop, nose wrinkling in distaste. “I wonder how he found this place. It looks… quaint.”
By quaint, she means not good enough.
“I don’t know, but we might as well go in.”
The bell above the door chimes pleasantly, signaling our arrival, along with Grace’s loud “something stinks.”
“Oh my God.” The girl behind the tiny desk up front slowly pulls her Tupperware container of food closer to her. “I’m sorry. I lost track of time. I was starving, and I know it smells like garlic, but I was so hung?—”
I hold up a hand and bite back a laugh. “It’s fine. Please eat. We’ll look around while you finish up.”
“Are you sure?” She grimaces, her face etched with what I swear is fear. “I can put this away.”
“No, go ahead.”
Beside me, Grace pinches her nose and huffs.
I quickly swat at her arm. “Stop that,” I whisper. To the girl working in the store, I say, “Ignore her. Grace has an incredible talent for being dramatic.”
The concern on the girl’s face is quickly replaced by amusement. With a laugh, she agrees, and we head off to browse the selection.
I drag Gracie over to a row of dresses that look like what she’s been fixated on all day, hoping to distract her.
I think she’s as obsessed with turning me into her own living doll as our mom.
After the girl finishes up her lunch or dinner or whatever meal it’s supposed to be, she comes over and introduces herself as Taylor.
“Your fiancé made the appointment for you and sent over a picture for inspiration. Do you have anything else in mind? Fabrics? We’ll talk about the sketch too and make any tweaks you want.”
I blink at her, confused by the words coming out of her mouth. It all sounded like gibberish to me.
“Huh?” I blurt.
My mom steps up, a hand on my shoulder. “What are you talking about? A sketch?”
Taylor looks between the three of us. “Uh… her fiancé emailed over a sketch of a wedding dress. He said it was something you drew when you were younger and that he wanted you to have your custom dream wedding dress. It’s all paid for. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”
As I gape at her, all the blood rushes to my head. I feel heavy. Like I might fall over.
Daire set this up?
Reached out to the store? Set up this appointment? And showed them my silly little sketch?
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
It might be the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.
“A sketch?” my mom asks me. “What is she talking about?”
“I… uh… I was going through a box of old things, and he saw a sketch of a dress I created when I was a teenager.”
My mom puts a hand to her heart, looking as touched as I feel. “It’s so sweet that he set all this stuff up.”
Taylor clears her throat and points behind her. “If you’re ready, we can head back and discuss what you want.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “That would be great.”
I enter the house and follow the sound of the TV to the family room, where I find Daire and Sammy on the floor playing. Daire is on his back, holding Sammy in the air. The sound of Sammy’s giggles warms me from the inside out and make it impossible not to smile from ear to ear. God, I missed them. It’s only been hours, but all day, I found myself wanting to be with them.
For a long moment, I stand in the doorway, just soaking it in. Happy. For the first time, I truly know what it means to feel that way.
All in all, I’ve led a great life, but I’ve never felt this content. Things have never been this right. This complete.
Clearing my throat, I step into the room and shuffle closer. When I plop down on the floor beside them, I smooth a hand over Sammy’s head. “How are my boys?”
Daire turns his head and gives me a panty-melting smile. “Having a little play time before this little guy’s bath.”
He sits up, hugging Sammy to his chest. The baby holds his arms out to me, and I gladly take him from his dad. With a deep inhale, I relish his sweet scent and snuggle him closer. Who would have thought that I would have a motherly bone in my body? I’d never put much thought into having kids before, but suddenly, all of me belongs to this little baby. He tugs on my hair, and I gently extract it from his hand. I kiss his pudgy fingers and then his cheeks. He’s perfect.
“How did it go?” Daire asks me.
“The last store was certainly a surprise.”
He grins, eyes crinkling. “A good surprise, I hope.”
I nod, fighting tears yet again. “It was the best surprise. I can’t believe that you thought to do something like that for me.”
Impossibly, his smile grows bigger. “I love you, Rosie, and I want you to have the dress of your dreams when you finally walk down the aisle to me.”
“Are we really doing this?” I whisper. “Are we really going to make this real?”
He cups my cheek and leans in until his lips gently brush mine. “It was always real. We just didn’t realize it yet.”
“My mom picked a venue and chose a date in September,” I warn him. “She told me over dinner. She’s already put a deposit down. Are you okay with that?”
He chuckles and sits straighter again, amusement sparkling in his blue eyes. “The better question is, are you okay with that? Do you like the location? Is it what you want? I only care about you being happy, not your mom.”
“It’s my dream location,” I admit. “A long time ago, I mentioned that I’d love to get married there. Apparently she never forgot. The day after we told her that we were married, she booked a date.”
“Your mom.” He shakes his head, laughing. “She’s something.”
“Tenacious, that’s for sure.”
“So what’s the location?”
With a smile so big it makes my cheeks ache, I launch into a lengthy explanation of the elegant gardens I visited before for a party my father attended. Daire would probably rather I shut up instead of talking about flowers and the best spots for photos, but he never once looks bored.
I’m still wrapping my head around the idea that this thing between us is real.
He’s my best friend again, the person I’m most excited to see, the person I want to spill my secrets to. He’s the love of my life.
Being with him is effortless, and to think, if it weren’t for Sammy, we probably would have continued to be too stubborn to forgive each other for our teenage stupidity.
Standing carefully with Sammy in my arms, I say, “Let’s get this little guy his bath and go to bed.”
“Bed?” Daire asks, hopping to his feet. “Or bed?”
I swat him, my cheeks flaming. “Just sleep. I’m tired.”
Stepping in close, he grips my hips and places a gentle kiss to the crook of my neck. “I know you weren’t gone that long, but I missed you.”
I sigh, melting into his touch. “I missed you too.”
It’s strange, to miss him so acutely after only a few hours. But I suppose that’s a sign that this connection is real.
“Come on, we need to get this little guy in the bath.”
“And then bed?” He winks.
I pat his chest, my stomach dipping. “We’ll see.”
He grins back, his expression making it clear he knows he’s going to get what he wants, because I want it too.
I’ve never been able to resist Daire. I certainly don’t expect things to change now.
Starting up the stairs, I hold my hand out behind me. An instant later, his fingers entwine with mine.
This is the life I always wanted—always hoped for.
It doesn’t feel real that I finally have it.