𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐌𝐞

one.✔

My fingers press against the chantilly lace of the a-line gown. I try to picture myself five days from today as the seamstress tucks the veil comb into my hair. I can't quite imagine it as I let my hands fall. I've tried this dress on maybe twenty times now and every time it feels forced. I have to force myself to put my wedding gown on. How ridiculous does that sound? 

My gaze raises to the mirror and it's not my blue eyes staring back at me but her brown ones. This was her dream dress. The dress she showed me at the ripe age of eight. I had picked it to feel closer to her, that maybe if I wore her dress a part of her would be with me, but as my eyes fall, I feel like a fraud.

"Finished?" I look over my shoulder at the seamstress. A confused look appears on her face. I'm sure most brides you have to bribe out of their gowns, while I can't wait to get out of mine.

"Yes," she reluctantly nods as I pull the matching veil from my hair, handing it back to her. I go back to the dressing room and unzip the gown. I set it back on the hanger, the hanger with my name tag dangling off it.

I pull my jeans back on and tug my tee over my head. I shove my feet in my boots but don't take the time to lace them as I tuck my purse under my arm.

"My mom will be by Wednesday to pick it up," I tell the seamstress. They hadn't finished the bustle on the gown quite yet so today was just a final fitting to be sure the bodice and hem were correct.

With a nod from her, I ran out of the bridal shop as fast as I could.

I glance at the clock as I shut the door to my light blue crossover. It's still early but I doubt Cole would mind. I was supposed to meet him after my fitting with the posters my nieces made for his construction business. I told him the appointment would be about an hour, but it took me only twenty minutes to put the dress on and well, you know the rest. I still needed to attach the posterboard to the spikes, so I headed for his office anyway.

Young Construction is a family business that Cole inherited after graduating high school. He'd been working with his dad since he was fourteen. After the accident his mom tried her best, but I think both were relieved when Cole turned eighteen and could legally take over. Mrs. Young is a schoolteacher who can barely hold a hammer, despite having been married to an expert craftsman. Mrs. Young moved overseas a few years ago to teach underprivileged children, she won't be able to make the wedding, but she did send a gift and her best wishes. 

The bold block letters that hung over the doorway reminded me of when they were first put there when I was ten years old. I lace my boots and throw my purse over my shoulder before popping my trunk to grab the signs and the stakes. I know Cole has a staple gun or two laying around out back in the warehouse. The front of the large building is the office, where Lucy keeps the whole place running. Lucy is a mother of twins and in her late thirties. She keeps Cole's head on straight most of the time. He'd much rather be in the field, so Lucy picks up most of the administrative slack.

Inside the walls are lined with frames of different homes and jobs they'd done. I start down the hall, passing a few clerical workers. Lucy steps out of her office, the last one on the left before Cole's. She has a coffee mug in her hand, clearly in search of an afternoon pick me up.

"Scarlett," she smiles, pushing her lavender reading glasses to the top of her head. "Looking for Cole?"

"Guilty," I nod.

"He's in the warehouse," she nods toward the heavy metal door across from her office, which leads to the back. "Looks like you need some tools anyway," she winks at the boards in my hands.

I laugh. "Thanks, Lucy."

I use my back to push open the heavy door. The warehouse is filled with everything you can imagine for a construction company; supplies, tools, a picnic table full of neon yellow shirted men eating sandwiches.