Read When Girlfriends Chase Dreams Online

Authors: Savannah Page

Tags: #contemporary romance, #romantic comedy, #contemporary women's fiction, #women, #contemporary women, #relationships, #friendship, #love, #fiction, #chicklit, #chick lit, #love story, #romance, #wedding, #marriage, #new adult, #college

When Girlfriends Chase Dreams (29 page)

The girls and I decide that the only appropriate place to hang out after the fitting, and the best place to get a little grub, is at The Cup and the Cake. Sophie almost has a hernia seeing the gaggle of us pour into the café.

“I’m so glad you all could come!” Sophie exclaims. She strides up to us and tells us to sit wherever we like and make ourselves comfortable. “I really am
so
happy you came.”

“Me especially, right?” Emily kids.

“Oh, you start work when you want,” Sophie says with a breeze. “We have it handled right now. Who would have known that my mom is a whiz at the espresso machine?”

I pull up one of the pink and white, cane-webbed chairs.

“So you got that gorgeous Vera, right?” Sophie asks. She looks at me and I give her an emphatic nod, telling her that it’s off to alterations as we speak. “Is that it for the day, then? No more wedding stuff?”

“Your planner’s taken all of the control, hasn’t she?” Robin asks me.

“Yeah, uhh…about that…” I loosely pull my untamed hair back into a ponytail. “She’s kind of, uh, fired.”

“What?” Sophie’s jaw drops. “You
fired
her?”

“Well, Conner kind of did.” I regale the girls of the story from the night before. I myself didn’t exactly have the nerve to call up Melissa and drop the bomb, and neither did Conner.

Instead we composed an email together—because sending an email is so much easier than talking on the phone or face-to-face, especially when you’re delivering this kind of a blow. Rather, I should say that Conner wrote the email. I stood by and supervised, and added in little pointers here and there—to make sure it sounded like it came from me, but with the direct yet professional tone I knew Conner could handle.

With two quick read-throughs and a crossing of the fingers, we hit the “Send” button, and off went the email. When Conner asked what I’ll do when Melissa responds, I casually told him that I had at least a week to deal with that, seeing how she was going to be incapacitated by her Midwest trip. “Do work on vacation?” I’d told him, laughing. “The girl barely does work when she’s working. Nah, we’ve got a week until the storm.”

“I can’t believe it,” Sophie gasps. “Fired?” She purses her lips. “Well, at some point she’ll get back to you and…then what?”

I shrug. “Who knows? Not my problem right now. The more I think about it, the more I stress over it. So…for now it’s just…I don’t know.” I wave my hands around sporadically. “It’s swept under the rug.”

“Uh, Claire, honey,” Emily says. “Not to be the pain, but…you do realize that now
you
have all of the wedding duties on your shoulders?”

This idea had crossed my mind the instant Conner and I sent off the email. The idea had also plagued me a bit last night, and judging from the light purple rings under my eyes, I had spent a good portion of the eve tossing and turning over the reality of being wedding planner-less. Again!

But what’s done is done. No going back now, really. Time to press forward. On to battle! And with, oh, what is it now? Two hundred and fifty-five people? Yeah. Two-fifty-five at the wedding, well…there’s no time to grumble about too much work.

“Claire,” Jackie says. She’s rubbing Bella’s small head, who is still sitting affably in the designer handbag. “You’re going to lose your freaking mind over this.”

“Not necessarily,” Lara says. She’s tapping a manicured finger on the table. “Not necessarily…”

I arch my brows and look up to Sophie, who holds up a finger to Lara and asks if she can quickly get us anything to drink or eat. After we place our varied orders, Sophie’s mom sneaks over and takes the pad of paper from Sophie. “I’ve got this one, dear,” she tells her daughter, giving her a soft pat on the shoulder.

“Thanks, Mom,” Sophie says. She swiftly pulls up a chair and tells Lara to go on.

“You sure your mom’s got this?” Lara asks, pointing over her shoulder at Sophie’s mother, who is moving diligently about from behind the counter, putting cupcakes on plates, foaming milk, and setting napkins and small flatware on saucers.

“Oh,” Sophie says without worry. “She’s totally got this. We’re actually a really great team together. She came out here to help and she’s really loving it.”

“Just the two of you?” Robin asks. She surveys the room; it’s not packed, but I’d call it a full house. Full enough for only two people on the job.

“Well, us and Chad,” Sophie says with a vacant expression.

Jackie runs her tongue along her teeth, smiling a huge smile. Sophie notices this and curtly says, “
Any
way…” Looking completely at Lara and ignoring the razzing from Jackie and now Robin, Sophie says, “What were you saying, Lara? Claire doesn’t necessarily have to freak about the wedding planner because…”

“My mom,” Lara says in an apparent tone. “You girls know she’s an event planner?” She casts her eyes about the table. “A coordinator. Event designer… She does tons of weddings. She’s a pro!”

“That’s right,” Robin says, snapping her fingers. “I can’t believe we didn’t think of this before!”

“Well,” Lara says, “I did offer her services a while ago…in the event things turned out wishy-washy with Melissa.”

“Which they have!” Jackie adds in.

“Exactly,” Lara says. “So if you still think you need—or want—a planner, Claire.”

What a brilliant idea,
I think. I’d forgotten all about Lara and her mom and the offer to have her plan my wedding. I can definitely use her now! Oh, I bet she’s
worlds
better than Melissa!

“Here,” Lara says. She tears out a blank sheet of paper from her day planner and begins writing on it. “Oh, that reminds me…” she says under her breath.

Lara hands me the paper, and on it is written the name “Allison,” with a phone number. “I’ll give her a ring, too,” Lara says, “to let her know that you’re going to call her.” Lara tucks the planner into her purse and with a click and a toss of the pen says, “Forgot all about my sesh today.”

“Dr. Milbanke?” Jackie says with a quirky look.

“Yeah,” Lara says with a sigh. “I’ve got plenty of time before I have to go, but I’m glad I checked my planner.” She tucks a thick strand of her short, brown hair behind her ear. “We’re only meeting once a month and with work being
in-sane
, and, of course,” she flushes a little, “with me wanting to spend some time with Nathan and all,” she flushes harder. “I’m doing therapy just one Saturday a month. It’s been going really well.”

“I’m so proud of you,” Jackie says, giving her BFF a rub on the arm. “Just once a month?
God!
I couldn’t imagine what that’s like.”

“You still going, Jack?” I ask, right as Sophie’s mom brings over a tray covered in hot beverages.

Sophie leaps from her seat to help her mom carry the treats. “Girls,” Sophie says, looking about the room while she assists in passing out the food, “I’ve got to get back to work. Help Mom out.” She picks up her teacup and tucks in her chair as her mother playfully rolls her eyes.

“If you want anything else,” Sophie says, “refills, whatever, just ask. Have fun!” She does a very light bounce on her ballet-flatted feet before trotting back behind the counter to help her mom with the newly arrived customers.

“Yup,” Jackie says. “I’m still going to see the old shrink.” She wraps her thin fingers around her warm teacup. “Andrew thinks it’s good for me.”

“And what do
you
think?” Emily says in a rather affronting way.

“I think he’s right.” Jackie’s about to take a cautious sip of her coffee but snaps back quickly and adds, “And my horoscope today even read that it’s wise to seek high advice when it comes to serious life matters. So if that doesn’t shout out, ‘See a shrink!’ then I don’t know
what
does.”

She attempts again her sip when Lara says through a low chuckle, “Jackie, you know that astrology stuff’s just garbage? Total bullshit.”

In a rapt tone, Jackie says, “Oh no! It’s really serious stuff.”

“Very serious,” Emily says succinctly.

“Lara, you can make horrible, terrible mistakes if you don’t heed the warnings in the stars,” Jackie says. “I mean, it could be a ‘yes’ day and you’re running around saying ‘no’ to everything.”

“Or the other way around,” I add in for humor.

Jackie, the humor lost on her, nods enthusiastically. “Exactly! And it’s free advice, right there in the newspaper. Or in a magazine!”

“Or on the internet,” I toss out.

“On the internet.” Jackie gives a mockingly severe look at Lara. “Think of the trouble we’d all save ourselves from if we paid attention to our horoscope.”

Lara, looking ever nonplussed, finally flutters her lashes and says, “Well if Dr. Milbanke is helping you, for whatever reason, whether the stars are aligned or blowing up causing cataclysmic events, I’m glad you’re going.”

“What do you even see him for?” Robin asks in a polite tone. “I get why Lara’s seeing him…”

“Hey,” Lara says. “Excuse me.”

Robin gives Lara a toothy grin and says, “You know what I mean.”

Lara mutters an easy-going “yeah-yeah” and takes a drink.

“For life, I guess,” Jackie responds to Robin nonchalantly. “I don’t know. Someone to talk to…”

“Can’t you talk to Andrew?” I ask.

“Or us,” Robin pipes in.

Jackie pushes her teacup and saucer a few inches away and situates her Gucci bag on her lap. Bella must be cuddled in with her blanket, because I can’t spot her tiny tan and black head.

“Andrew suggested it’d be a good thing, seeing how my home life was rough and all,” Jackie says. We, all very well aware of Jackie’s sad excuse of an upbringing, nod in understanding. “Not that I’m, like, in turmoil over having shitty parents and an even shittier home life or anything. I mean, that was like,
years
ago. I’m, what? Going on twenty-seven, and a lot of it is behind me, but—”

“Sometimes it’s still nice to get help about it,” Emily says. “To talk it out.”

“Yeah,” Jackie says. “It’s nice to talk. We talk about a bunch of stuff, too. Like I said, life in general.”

I take a drink. Sophie was right; her mom is a miracle worker with the machine. This cappuccino is better than the last one I had Starbucks with my wed—ahem,
ex
-wedding planner. Of course, if I factor in the fabulous company of my best friends and the equally fabulous ambience of Sophie’s café here, the cappuccino naturally has one-up on old Starbucks.

“I say if you girls enjoy the therapy,” I say, looking at Lara, “and can afford it. Then, why the heck not?”

“Agreed,” Robin says.

“Sometimes I think Conner and I could use a couples’ therapy session,” I say, only half kidding. “We’re arguing about stupid, little things we never really used to before.”

“Claire,” Robin says, “you two have always had little squabbles together.”

“Never anything too serious,” Lara adds in.
 

“Yeah,” Robin says. “Just squabbles. It’s kind of cute, actually.”

“Sometimes annoying,” Jackie says through a smirk. “Cute, lighthearted—but annoying.”

“Oh,” Robin says, softly shoving Jackie. “Squabbles, Claire.” She crosses her hands delicately, full-on mommy mode here. “Things aren’t, like,
serious
, are they? Like, raging arguments?”

Jackie tosses her head back and gives a loud laugh in mirth, drawing brief attention from the table of three nearby. “Not serious like wrecking the place and throwing things?”

Luckily, Conner and I have never had a volatile discussion or fist-throwing kind of fight. I’m sure we wouldn’t be together today had we ever had a blow-up like that. Sure, we’ve raised our voices and even slammed doors; although those arguments are so rare I can’t really recall more than a few distinct instances.

“So long as things aren’t getting
too
hostile,” Emily says in a warning voice. “It isn’t
too
hostile, right?” She glances at each girls’ face before resting finally on mine.

The fixity of her gaze and pause in her speech makes me cry out, “Oh, no, nothing serious! We’re out of sync a lot more often now, that’s all.” I wrinkle my napkin. “I know it’s only because of the wedding and all of that stress—even with a wedding planner and all.”

“A wedding planner from hell!” Jackie says loudly.

This is one of the many things I love about Jackie. Usually (not always, but usually) it doesn’t matter what is morally or factually or even legally right. If Jackie’s friends have their doubts about their wedding planner or think they’re being treated rudely by a department store clerk or merely mention that they think their boyfriend or husband is being a bit of a dick, she has their backs in no time. It will be, “That wedding planner of yours
is
terrible.” Or she’ll say, “We will
never
shop at that store again!” And, of course, “You were right. He was wrong. Men can be such a bore, can’t they?”

“But now that you have your
new
planner,” Robin says cheerfully, looking over at Lara, “you won’t have to deal with any of that extra stress.”

“My mom will take a ton of that pressure off of you, Claire,” Lara says reassuringly.

I pull on my beverage. Mmm, it tastes even better than the last sip. “You’re right, girls,” I say. “I know it’s general wedding stress, and Melissa probably made the stress compound even more than normal. But with Lara’s mom I’m sure things will be so much better.”

“Much!” Jackie says. She steals a pack of cigarettes from her bag and hops up from her seat. “You girls watch her, please?” She hands the bag with Bella over to an awaiting Robin. “Gonna take a smoke,” Jackie says, waving her pack about. Emily pushes away from the table after finishing off a speedy sip of her beverage and says that she’s right behind her.

“Definitely,” Robin says while she lightly strokes the top of Bella’s fragile-looking head. “Allison is going to do great work!”

When it’s finally time to leave, I wave goodbye to the girls and walk alongside Robin to the far end of the busy lot where we’re both parked.

I actually managed to find a spot under the shade of a large oak tree. But as I approach my seriously ghetto car (I now have two bungee cords holding down the trunk, because when I hit a pothole the other week the lone cord didn’t suffice, sending my trunk flying open), I notice that a bird has done its business on my windshield—smack-dab in the center of my view.

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