That Wedding by Jillian Dodd Page B

this dress. I thought it would be such a cute bridesmaid's dress." I point to an adorable strapless dress. The ruching across the bust line meets in the center to form a fabric flower, and then it falls into soft pleats from a babydoll waistline. "It would be perfect to hide Lori's little bump, and look at the gorgeous icy pale purple color. What do you think?"
    "I think the dress is cute. So are we going with purple?"
    "Yes, black, white, and purple. I think Katie was right. Pick a color, pick a few details, and everything will start falling into place."
    When I put the wedding album away, I see our holiday photo album. It's full of just holiday photos from each year, starting when I was a baby.
    I look through the photos, and my eyes tear up again. What the hell has being engaged done to me? Why can't I control the tears anymore?
    I see photos of me as a baby. Of me and Phillip visiting Santa. Me bawling. I never liked to visit Santa. He still kinda scares me.
    And then I see it. A photo of Phillip and I, when we were both seven, in front of a fountain in Kansas City. The Country Club Plaza Lights are shining all around us.
    My family, Phillip's family, and sometimes, the Diamonds, would kick off the holiday season with a trip to shop and see the Plaza Lights.
    Phillip and I never liked to shop much. We would spend most of our weekend running back and forth between the pool and our hotel room. We'd swim, order pizza, and watch pay-per-view movies.
    I see another photo of Phillip and I in front of the same big fountain. We're older in this one, about fourteen. I know because that was the last Christmas I was taller than him. He has a big grin on his face and is making bunny ears behind my head. I look irritated. I remember threatening to knock him into the fountain if he didn't stop poking me and putting ears behind my head.
    There are more pictures of all the gorgeous Christmas lights. I always loved seeing the lights. Walking from the hotel to dinner was so pretty. When I was little, I used to think the Plaza Lights were practically magical.
    Heck, who am I kidding? I still do.
    I run back to the couch and shove the photo album onto Phillip's lap. "Phillip, look at all of this!!! Remember this? All those yearly trips?"
    "Yeah," he says, "we didn't go much in college. We should go this year."
    A crazy idea has been forming in my head. Actually, it's not crazy, it's perfect. "Phillip, what would you think about getting married in Kansas City, maybe in early January, while the lights are still up?"
    I can tell by Phillip's face that he likes the idea, but his brain is trying to work out the logistics of it all. He finally says, "Princess, I think it would be perfect. Just like you."
    I forget exactly what he did then. Ran his hand through my hair and started rubbing my back, I think. But next thing I know, I'm in bed with very little on my body and only one thing on my mind.

 
    We came to Kansas City yesterday to look at commercial real estate, fill Lori and Danny in on all the good news, and to enlist Lori's help in finding a venue.
    The first thing Lori asked me this morning was if I had a budget.
    "Shit, I hadn't thought of that. I was just trying to come up with ideas."
    "You need to figure that out first. I would think a big formal wedding like what you want would be pretty pricey."
    "I have money in my trust."
    "I thought you don't get control of your trust until you're twenty-five?"
    "I don't. I got a good portion of it right away, but I put most of it back in the trust. I only kept enough to pay for college and stuff. I'll talk to Mr. D about it. We want a big wedding. My parents loved a good party. They'd want me to do it up right."
    "So money's no object?"
    "Yes, it's an object, silly. I'll have a budget, but I'm sure that budget will include the ballroom wedding that I'm envisioning. I'm so excited, Lori, and I'm so glad you're helping me!"
    We start by scouring the internet for possible places to hold the