A Billion Reasons Why (5 page)
Eileen placed her hand on the pile of clothes Katie had restored on the bed. “A good one. A sweet and gentle, loving soul who is powerless against the hurricane force that is Luc DeForges. Know your weakness, Katie, that’s all I’m asking.”
“You’ve never liked Luc,” she accused.
Eileen fell back on the bed and stretched her arms over her head. “I liked him fine before he broke your heart.” She spoke to the ceiling. “Granted, I liked his brother better, but I couldn’t see you with a guy who danced better than you. It’s not right somehow. Ryan was always more like your brother than a boyfriend.”
“You didn’t like Luc in college. For one thing, you didn’t like that he went to Tulane instead of Loyola. You accused me of being a traitor.”
“No, you’re right. I didn’t like him,” Eileen admitted. “Why don’t you just pick out a new engagement ring with Dex? He’d love to take you shopping and buy you a ring. It’s practical. Just make sure I’m out of town when you do it, all right? I don’t want to hear him blather on about all the details of its perfection. Besides, your nana’s classic antique doesn’t seem to fit a Dexter marriage.”
“What do you mean? It’s my ring, and it fits me. What’s more practical than that?” Katie pointed at the brooch on her collar. “I don’t like modern things.”
“Tacori makes beautiful antique-looking rings. Buy one of them and save yourself some heartache. Yes, I know, the emeralds match your eyes,” Eileen said before Katie could protest. She lifted up onto her elbows. “Buy some emeralds that color and put them on the new ring. Dexter will buy you whatever you want. Even
he
can’t believe you’re marrying him. I’ve got to go throw the shrimp in the soup.” Eileen kicked her legs out and jumped off the bed. “I just don’t know how you two can be in love. You’re so . . . polite to each other. How will you ever solve serious issues like whether to watch
Monday Night Football
or
The Bachelor
?”
“That’s easy. Dexter doesn’t like football. So I’m sure we’ll solve it by finding something we love doing together.”
“Okay, Dexter wants to watch the
Life and Times of the Dung Beetle
in three parts, and you want to watch
The Bachelor
. Now who wins? How do you negotiate?”
“I don’t want to watch
The Bachelor
. I’ll be married. What’s the point?”
“So no married women watch
The Bachelor
? Your desire for tacky television evaporates on your wedding day?”
She didn’t answer.
“Katie, the point is, I’ve seen you go through an entire pint of Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food when the wrong bachelorette won on that show. You are denying who you really are. And, girl, face it, you’re tacky. You’re in the dentist’s office. Do you pick up
US News & World Report
or
People
?” Eileen leaned on the doorframe. “Wait, I’ve got another one. Dexter buys you a Kindle and he stocks it full of biographies on dead presidents and scientific heroes. Do you a) pretend to read them and scan them so you can discuss them at the dinner table or b) say thank you and go score some real books online?”
“Dexter is not that interested in what I read.”
The doorbell interrupted them, and they stared at one another, then scrambled—Eileen to the kitchen and Katie to the front door. She drew in a deep breath to clear her head. Dexter had nothing to worry about with Luc, and she’d be sure he understood that. She opened the door briskly and nearly jumped the UPS man before she realized he wasn’t Dexter.
“Oh.”
“Sorry to disappoint you.” He grinned. “Usually people who get a box this big are happy to see me.”
Their UPS man was a burly African American with abs you could see through his shirt. Katie had definitely watched too many
Bachelor
episodes, because she always expected him to tear it off in the hallway.
She stared at the box. “Sorry. I was expecting someone else.”
“I figured. But you got yourself a nice present here.” He held out his electronic clipboard, and she signed for the package. He maneuvered the box, which was large enough to hold a small child, through the doorway and left it beside the entry. “See you next time.”
“Yeah, thanks,” she said absently, shutting the door.
“That wasn’t Dex?” Eileen emerged from the kitchen. “I put the shrimp in. They only need like a minute. I don’t want rubbery shrimp.”
“Relax, he’ll be here. You could set your watch by him, remember?” The doorbell rang again. “See?” She pulled the door open again, and the UPS man stood there again.
“Sorry to bother you. You forgot to print your name beneath your signature.”
Eileen ran to the kitchen and came back with scissors. “I turned the soup off.” She kicked the door shut with her foot behind the departing deliveryman and, without waiting for an invitation, sliced into the box and peered inside. “I think it’s clothes. Who would send you clothes?” She pulled out a lavender crepe paper bundle and ripped it open. A dress tumbled out.
“It’s a swing dress.” Katie grabbed it and felt the material. “It’s an original!” An accompanying tag announced the dress’s credentials. It was a navy polka dot sheer dress with a white sailor collar. Katie ran to the mirror that hung over the love seat. “It’s gorgeous!” She flattened the dress against her chest and twirled to let the skirt gain flight.
Eileen grabbed the dress from her and shoved it back in the box. “It’s from Luc. I’d recognize his carefully choreographed moves anywhere. Send this back.”
“It was part of the deal. If I go to the wedding, I get clothes from the era. I negotiated it. It’s mine.”
“Was this?” Eileen pulled out a
Tattler
magazine. On the cover was Katie’s backside slung over Luc’s broad shoulder.
On a Post-it he’d scrawled,
I’m sorry about this, but at least I kept your name out of it
.
The headline splayed across the picture read M
ILLIONAIRE
B
ACHELOR,
T
ARZAN;
U
NNAMED
R
EDHEAD,
J
ANE
. Mortification washed over Katie, and she grabbed the magazine and thumbed through it until she came to the photographs. There was Luc’s face all bunched up as her ponytail connected with his nose.
“The pictures are like one of those cartoon drawings where you turn the pages. You know what I mean? Look at me! You can see my face in this one! Anyone who opens this rag is going to know it’s me.”
“Look at it this way; they’d have to admit to buying a tabloid first. So are you planning to tell me why Luc has you hoisted midair like a tub of crawfish?”
Katie stared at the image on the cover again. “You can’t tell that’s me.” She grabbed the magazine and scrutinized it from all angles, then she shrugged. “You can’t tell it’s me!”
“But I know it’s you. This is exactly what happens when Luc DeForges is around. What is Dex going to say to this?”
“Where would he see it? Dexter probably doesn’t even know that magazine exists.” Her mind raced. She knew she had to come clean, but it would just be easier to do so after she got back with her engagement ring.
“You’re not going to tell him?” The doorbell rang, and Eileen giggled in her trademark knowing way.
“What is so funny?”
“I was just thinking how you said Luc’s mother wanted to have a Cinderella-style lineup.” Eileen raised the cover back at her. “Wouldn’t it be something if instead of a glass slipper, they were looking for a glass girdle? Spanx?”
Katie raked her fingers through her hair and groaned. “What have I done?”
The doorbell rang again.
Eileen threw the magazine into the box. “There’s more.” She brought up a gold box the shape of an oversized hatbox.
“Not now. Dex is here. I have to think about how I’m going to tell him about the photos.”
“A picture’s worth a thousand words. Show him!”
Katie stared at the door, then at the box, and without willpower, she tore into the gold cardboard.
“You always did have to eat dessert first,” Eileen said.
Katie tossed the lid off and tore through the tissue paper. Inside shone the coup de grace. The Holy Grail for vintage lovers. She could very nearly hear the heavenly host singing. She had to stop and take a moment. “Luc knows me better than I know myself.” She got choked up. “I can’t touch it.”
“Well, what is it?” The doorbell rang a third time, and they both ignored the sound.
“It’s a replica of Ginger Rogers’ iconic ostrich feather gown in
Top Hat
where she danced with Fred Astaire.”
Eileen placed her fists on her boyish hips. “A replica? He bought you a replica? What’s the point of being a gazillionaire if you can’t buy the real thing? I mean, Nick Cage bought a real dinosaur skull before he went broke.”
“Maybe that’s why he went broke. The real dress is light blue, too close to white maybe for a wedding?”
“You better put that away for now until you figure out how you’re going to explain the picture to Dexter. And you’re going to explain it to him, or I will. The moment you start protecting Luc, it’s over.”
“No, you’re right.” Katie snuggled the dress to her collarbone. “Oh, the feel of it. Eileen, feel it!”
“Did they kill something to make that atrocious thing?”
“No, it’s ostrich feathers.”
“So what’s the ostrich wearing now?”
“Ginger fought for this dress. Had lots of tantrums over it, in fact. Look what Luc wrote on the card.” She thrust the card toward Eileen.
It’s been defeathered and is ready for dancing
. Of course, by defeathered, he meant edited. A feathered dress would always lose some of its feathers. She imagined birds had no better luck. She pressed the card to her chest. “I love Luc.”
“You did not just say what I think you did.” Eileen crossed her arms. “Because only a crazy person would say such a thing, especially when her fiancé is on the other side of that door, and she has to explain why her heart-shaped bum is on the cover of a tabloid. Katie, Luc’s trying to manipulate you, can’t you see that? He sends over what
he
wants you to wear.” She started to dig through the box, throwing pieces of small, feathered fluff all over the floor.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m looking to see if he sent you lingerie too, with a fake note about what Ginger wore under the dress.”
“It was just a figure of speech. I meant that I loved Luc for knowing that Fred Astaire was annoyed by the feathers. It took sixty takes to get the dance right, and the dress shed everywhere. Astaire was a perfectionist, and his temper flared over the extensive takes.”
Eileen snatched the dress from her hands. “This is all fascinating, but your fiancé is here.” She shoved the dress back into the box and dragged it across the room. “I’ll put this in my bedroom until you’ve had a chance to explain yourself to Dexter over dinner.”
Katie waited for Eileen to disappear into the hallway before flinging open the door. Luc filled the doorway, leaning on the doorjamb. But before either of them could say a word, Dexter appeared at his side.
All that Katie could think of was Bette Davis saying, “Fasten your seat belts. It’s going to be a bumpy night.”
A
T
L
AST
Luc’s brows rose as he drank in every aspect of Dexter’s appearance: his clothes, his height, his net worth. Katie could practically see Luc’s mind churning, the cogs and wheels rotating with all the calculations doubtlessly arriving to his satisfaction. Her insides shook with anger.
How dare he!
She glanced at her watch. 7:15. Dexter was punctual as usual and still wearing his workday khakis and white button-down. She loved that he was so dependable. In contrast, Luc showed up unannounced, uninvited, and at the worst possible moment for all involved but showing no remorse for his social faux pas.
Dexter walked in and crossed the room to a vase full of pink roses. “Pink this week,” he said, sniffing the buds. “Do you like them?”
“I love them. You’re so generous to send the flowers every week. It makes me feel as if I’m starring in my very own movie.”
Dexter kissed her near her ear. “You should feel that way. I hope to keep making you feel that way until you could star in
Titanic
as the old woman.”
Katie giggled but stopped at the sight of Eileen, standing out of Dexter’s line of sight and sticking a finger down her own throat.
“We have to eat,” Eileen announced. “My shrimp is already rubbery. Luc? I assume your ill-timed entrance means you’re joining us?”
Luc lifted Eileen’s hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers. “It’s lovely to see you too, Eileen. How long has it been?”
“Not long enough,” Eileen replied. “Sit down, I’ll go get the pot.”
Their table, a cheap Pottery Barn knockoff, boasted three place settings. Katie kept talking while she went to the kitchen to get a fourth.
“Yes, everyone sit down, I’m just going to get another bowl. Luc, you will love Eileen’s soup. You should hire her to do demonstrations at your stores. She is such an incredible cook, and everything is healthy so her clients can eat it. She’s taken a lot of Mam’s recipes and made them low-calorie.”