Made of Honor

Made of Honor by Marilynn Griffith

Book: Made of Honor by Marilynn Griffith Read Free Book Online
Authors: Marilynn Griffith
Tags: Fiction, General, Religious
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much like my mother would have been. “No. That’s the bottle for the Plumeria products. The lavender is a much lighter shade. If you’d—”
    “This is lavender. That’s lilac. Brook’s wedding colors are not lilac. Can’t you just pour that into some of these bottles and put her name on this cute label?”
    Oh, fun. “I’m really not set up to do personalized favors. My printer—”
    “I’ll pay extra and we’ll take all that you have here for the spa party with the bridesmaids.” She fumbled with a large Mount Blanc pen. “What do you say?”
    What could I say? To have any hope of paying Rochelle back, I needed to sell as much as possible. “Sold. Let’s step over here to work out the details. Can you spell Brook’s last name here…”
    The morning continued like that, bargains struck and checks written, all for projects I hadn’t planned on. As much as I appreciated the business, the glee and glow of the soon-to-be-wed, and their uptight family members, was doing damage to my nerves. Could anybody be that happy? And for how long? Tracey had smiled like that, too.
     
    Days turned in my devotional Bible, each one dotted with little sleep and much stress as the exacting wedding planners and haggling mothers-in-law flooded my shelves.
    As much as I wanted to go berserk over Jordan and confront Rochelle, I didn’t have time. I’d seen her at church last Wednesday night, tripping up the step in a new pair of shoes—lime green. Her guilty color. Though she waved and ran on, I figured Rochelle had probably seen Jordan and didn’t want to feel bad because he still hadn’t bothered to contact me. Her contrition was thoughtful, but unnecessary. My brother and I hadn’t been close. Though I’d prayed for this time to be different, there was no use breaking the rules now.
    Adrian had been a curiosity, too, working hard outselling me, and spending the rest of his time trying to hook up with me and talk business. Though I knew we needed to be getting together, strategizing, I knew that neither of us would be thinking of marketing if we were within a foot of each other. What I didn’t know was where I wanted those feelings to go. But like I said, such things would have to wait for when I had time to think about them.
    For now, I went to work and to church—on slow days, I slipped off to noonday prayer. Those retirees know how to pray. I hadn’t had time to touch the phone outside of business…or the computer, thanks to Tracey handling my Web site and covering my devotionals. Being out of touch was great, in a way. I’d forgotten what it was like to just pray and sing all by myself. Like it was when I first got saved and Rochelle was busy with her business and Tracey was in school for the tenth time, before finally hitting upon her call in life, graphic design.
    I took a deep breath and took my church dress out of the closet, hoping it would be looser since the last time I wore it. I slipped it over my head, noticing at once the grip the sleeves had on my shoulders.
    Tighter, not looser.
    I frowned, thinking of Tracey, who’d given me this outfit when she’d abandoned her flab. Amazing what affect Ryan had on her. When I’d dated him, he’d driven me so nuts, I was on a first-name basis with the pizza man. Tracey, on the other hand, was so in love she’d forgotten to eat…or so she said. Whatever the case, she’d sure looked good in that wedding gown. And here I was about to explode out of another dress.
    I’d been doing okay with my eating, but couldn’t seem to squeeze in time to get to the gym. The blistering cold kept me from my summer walks and work seemed to beckon from every corner. Gone were the days where excess pounds dropped off in a week or a month. Less than a year shy of thirty, I had to fight to lose even an ounce. And at this time of the month, it was pretty much a lost cause.
    Shoving back my closet door, I stared at the satin cemetery of bridesmaids gowns in the back—ten

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