The Hurricane
Page 62“Sorry, Marie,” Kieran apologised, red faced at seeing her expression.
“It would have been worth it,” said Tommy dreamily, obviously imagining what I looked like in my underwear.
Recovering her composure, Marie pulled back the heavy brocade curtain that separated the fitting room from the main shop and pointed.
“Out!” she ordered them, and Kieran went immediately back to his seat without argument.
“But she’s taking ages,” Tommy moaned again.
“This is the most important day of her entire life, and you’re making her feel bad. She’s going to pick any old dress in a minute rather than the dress of her dreams, just to please you. Is that what you want?”
“No,” he admitted shamefully. “Sorry, Em. Take as long as you like,” he apologised and left.
“How did you do that?” I asked. This woman could have been a nursery teacher if she wasn’t so awesome at making dresses.
“I have three younger brothers,” she explained. “Now let’s find you that dream dress.”
Five dresses in, and I found it. The dress was sheer chiffon over a silk dress. Delicate antique lace was sewn entirely over the straps and bodice of the gown and a long panel of lace ran down the back of the dress, trailing around the full skirt of the train. The fitted satin that could be seen beneath the chiffon was strapless, with a sweetheart neckline, and fit perfectly to my body until it flared out from the thigh. The reverse of the dress was quite low beneath the chiffon so that you could see the full effect of the lace across my back, and the whole dress was a soft ivory colour making it classy, but sexy at the same time. I loved it and knew that O’Connell would too.
“Please tell me that you love this one as much as I do,” Marie told me. “This is perfect for you.” This was the one.
“You’re going to be a wonderful bride, and your fiancé is a very lucky man,” she comforted.
“Thanks,” I sniffed. This poor girl didn’t know me at all, but a hug was exactly what I needed.
“Wait here. We need a glass of something to celebrate the occasion, and I think the boys need a treat for their patience.”
She left me in front of the mirror turning from side to side, as I admired the dress, and returned a few minutes later with a delicious glass of champagne. I’d never tasted it before, but once you got used to the bubbles going up your nose, it was wonderful.
“Now, let’s get you fitted properly,” Marie announced. I looked around the dress for a price tag.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Um. I was just looking to see how much it was,” I admitted.
I was embarrassed, but still, I needed to know. The dress really didn’t look cheap, and although Danny had offered to buy one for me, I didn’t want to abuse his generosity.
“It’s already paid for lovely. I spoke to the guys when I got them a drink. They phoned with Mr. Driscoll with the price of the dress, fitting, and a budget for accessories, and he approved payment on the condition that I wasn’t to disclose the cost to you.”
With the new tears that sprang up, it took two more glasses of champagne and a bunch of tissues before we actually got round to the fitting. I didn’t think that any of the veils suited me, so in the end I settled in a small antique comb to wear with my hair up. The selection of shoes Marie kept in stock were as beautiful as the dresses, but having spent my life in flats, I didn’t think that the aisle was the best place to learn how to walk in heels. Luckily, I wasn’t the only bride to have ever felt this way, and adding magic to her other talents, Marie produced the perfect pair of off-white converse. I’d have no problem dancing the night away in these, and I’d still get to wear them after the wedding.
“What’s your favour colour?” Kieran asked me.
“Blue,” I replied automatically. “Why?” I asked.
“Because Con wants to know,” he replied as if this explained everything, and wandered off to talk some more on his phone. Tommy was rooting through all the racked bridesmaid dresses.
“What are you doing, Tom?” I asked and he didn’t pause as he answered, “I’m looking to see which one of the dresses suits my colour palette best.”
“Why?” I asked, trying really hard not to laugh.
“Because I’m bored,” he admitted.
“You’re so gay,” Kieran told him, who apparently having finished his own conversation had caught the tail end of ours.
“Fuck off. You’re gay for saying I’m gay.”
“Now children,” I admonished, “it doesn’t matter if you’re gay or straight. Being gay isn’t an insult, so grow up and play nice.”
Kieran turned toward Tommy. “Sorry Tom. I know you’re not gay, you’re just very effeminate, and I support you in your life choices.”
“You land one punch inside my shop, Tommy, and I’m calling your mother.” I have never seen Tommy jump to apologise so quickly. I really needed to meet Tommy’s mum. She must be quite formidable to have this effect on him.
“So, are you coming to the party then?” Kieran asked Marie.
“What party?” I asked him, wondering if asking her along to a house party was such a good idea. My first house party experience had been less than stellar.
“Your wedding party,” Kieran explained. “You wouldn’t mind Marie coming, would you?”
Marie looked completely mortified, but I was too stunned myself to reassure her.
“I’m having a wedding party?” I squeaked at him, whilst trying really hard not to jump up and down.
“Yes, but I’m not telling you anything else. Con would kick my arse.”