Back to You(30)
Not sure where to begin, I look from left to right and then left again, fixating on a display of vintage bridal headpieces. Jackpot! Some are far too intricate and fancy for the type of dress I’ve chosen, but there are some smaller, dainty pieces that catch my eye. Draping the dress bag over my arm, I rest my elbows on the glass display and survey my choices. Some are very turn-of-the-century/steam punk era inspired. I love them, but they just don’t match my style. Some of them are adorned with feathers and pearls and lots of little beadwork that would be perfect for something a little more formal. When I’m about to give up and settle on braiding my hair and calling it a day, a salesperson comes out from a back door. “I’m sorry, I mustn’t have heard you come in. Can I help you with something?”
She’s an older woman with a kind smile. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of these treasures once belonged to her.
“Actually, you might be able to. I’m looking at these beautiful headpieces, but I can’t seem to find one that compliments this.” I hold up the garment bag and the woman’s face brightens with a huge smile.
“A wedding? Oh how wonderful, dear. Can I see the dress?”
She seems so excited for me, how can I dare object. “Of course,” I say as I remove the dress from the bag.
“When’s the wedding?” she says, fingering the lace in her age-spotted hands.
“Tomorrow.”
Her head pops up. “My goodness, tomorrow? And you’re yet to find your accessories. Oh, honey, come on. I’ll help you with everything you need.” She grabs my hand and starts to drag me in the direction of another large display of sparkly items.
“Actually,” I detach my hand from her surprisingly strong grip, “this is a vow renewal, not the actual real deal. So we’re keeping it simple and I’ll only be needing the headpiece. Oh and maybe a small token for my husband.”
She tilts her head to the side, mentally scrutinizing me. Oh, lady, really? What did I say now? I mean, she actually looks disappointed. “Not the real deal?” She finally asks in an accusatory tone. “If you’re marrying this man again it most certainly is the real deal, second time around or not. I’d say this is even more special than the first time. It means you’re willing to make those promises to each other time and time again. That’s remarkable in this day and age with all that textering and internet socializing and the such. How long have you been married, if you don’t mind me asking?”
I can’t help but laugh at her adorableness. “Five years this week.”
“I was married to my Harry for nearly fifty-five years when he passed. We renewed on our fiftieth anniversary—it was simple and small, but boy, was it unforgettable.” I watch her eyes glaze over as she remembers her late husband and the remarkable life they must have had together. I’d sit here all evening and talk to her just so she can reminisce like this, but unfortunately I have a wedding to plan for and a gorgeous man waiting for me.
I hook my arm in hers and decide to give in to her wise words. “Well then, since this is the real deal and it will be completely unforgettable, let’s find the perfect accessories to go with my dress, shall we?”
Sophie gives me a run for my money with her opinions on what’s best, but in the end I have the final say and she seems content that I made the right choice. Along with the rhinestone and bird-cage-veiled hair comb, we pick out a stunning pair of earrings that tie everything together. Sophie messes with the clip in my hair, giving me an idea for how I’ll wear it tomorrow, as I look on in the mirror and hold the dress up against me. It’s all perfect and as I watch it come together, I’m starting to get excited. This will be so different from my jittery wait to walk down the aisle five years ago. I might skip along the sand to meet my husband at our oceanfront altar.
“Okay, so now that we have that covered. I need a special gift. Do you have a music section?” I ask, looking for a wall with album covers or hanging instruments.
Sophie spins me around, and points me to a corner that looks exactly the way I’d seen it in my head. I place my dress and the accessories on the display and she nods her head as if to tell me she won’t let anything happen to them. As I walk to search for treasure, my eyes immediately dart to a beautiful guitar. Declan would love it, but he also loves his Martin and I wouldn’t exactly be able to hide this from him in my purse. So I nix that idea. I peruse the wall that displays album posters, autographed records, a ton of Elvis memorabilia, and then I see it.
It sticks out because a needlepoint plaque has no right hanging amongst rock legends like Jimi Hendrix and Mick Jagger. I walk over to it to see what it is and I nearly squeal in excitement. Okay, I actually do squeal. “Oh my God! No way!”