Sheets of tissue slowly rippled in the air, falling to the hardwood floor without a sound as the bride's mother delicately lifted the lace veil from the box. Once they were lost in the final moments of preparations, touching up makeup and shedding the last few tears, I left the dressing room and climbed the steps within the musty hallway to reach the heavy wooden door that blocked me from the pouring rain outside.
Checking the time on my watch, I calculated how long it would take to get across town for the reception before the bridal party and their guests. Behind me, music swelled within the church. Proud of another successful ceremony, I lifted my hood over my head and jogged through puddles to my car.
Shivering once I was locked inside, I started the engine and crossed town, answering the phone on speaker when my assistant called.
"You are now double booked for next month," she told me.
"I can do both," I assured her, knowing I could. "But how did that even happen?"
I thrived in structure, the predictability making it impossible for something to happen, something to interrupt someone's special day. I wasn't always that way, though. It started when I had to forcefully distract myself to make it through life. Years after my turning point, I had created a booming business for myself, with a reputation to uphold. We had backup plans for our backup plans, but a mishap like this hadn't happened since I began planning weddings.
I listened to Josie explain how we ended up with two weddings scheduled for New Year's Eve, already having prepared myself to never spend a holiday on my own. Why would I want to feel as alone as I was, when I could use that time and energy to bring others together?
Arriving at the reception, I rushed in and checked everything. Musicians were practicing, servers prepared drinks and appetizers on trays, and staff did a final check of tables and decorations, at my insistence. There was never time to spare. In my opinion, that meant something was wrong. Once certain everything was without flaw, I left. Venturing back into the rain, I headed home, where my companion through the weekend would be work.
Time slowed slightly as I stepped from my shower and wrapped inside my plush robe, spending an extra moment in front of my mirror, amazed at how the expensive foundation I'd worn all day hid my imperfections. The dark circles from no sleep, the lines chiseled into my cheeks from constantly smiling about someone else's happiness... Snapping from the moment of distraction, I moved to my bedroom, where I plopped onto the mattress and opened my laptop. Tucking my feet under the blanket, I watched the alerts flash on my screen. A stream of water drizzled from my wet hair, over the collar of my robe and onto my chest as I sat, frozen, reading the final message that popped onto my screen.
Ms. Daly,
If you've read the papers, I'm sure you've seen one of my children is engaged. Are you free for coffee this week?
Best,
Mathilde
Best, like her request to meet hadn't resurrected an entire lifetime I fought to shield. I could never bury it, nor did I want to. At least, my heart would never forget.
Thinking it best to overthink myself into insomnia, I didn't respond to Mathilde's email until asking Josie to handle it the following morning. My foundation barely covered the dark circles I paid so much for it to mask, when I made myself presentable for a morning of virtual meetings. I hadn't yet read the papers, as Mathilde assumed I had, so I flipped through as though almost hoping her email was a strange dream, and I would see an advertisement for an estate sale instead.
The ring of Josie joining our video conference distracted me. We discussed the accidental double-booking for New Year's Eve next month, making a plan in no time, and then she told me about Mathilde.
YOU ARE READING
Other Plans
RomanceViolet created the perfect business, planning weddings and bringing happiness to people for their special day. She almost had one, but that was a decade ago and Aidan's family had other plans for him that didn't include the only woman he ever loved...