The Young Wives Club

Laura took Gabby’s arm and guided her to the wedding section in the back of the store.

“Oh, look—a sale,” Laura said gleefully. “This one’s only a hundred-ninety-nine. That’s amazing.” Upon closer inspection, the girls realized the hem was lined with dangling pom-poms. “Oh dear,” Laura said, raising her eyebrows and sliding it back on the rack.

“Can I help you?” A tall slender woman with a pixie cut approached them.

“Aw, hi, Miss Kathie. Do you remember me?” Laura asked in her sweet high-pitched tone. Gabby recognized the voice she was using: it was one Laura saved for important adults and customers at the Sea Shack.

“Well, if it isn’t Miss Maple Bacon Praline Pie herself!” The woman hugged Laura. “How are you, sweetie?”

“I’m good! Just shopping with my friend Gabby for a wedding dress.” She grabbed her arm and pulled Gabby closer. “Can you help us find something?”

“I certainly can! Now, what style are you looking for?”

“Long, flowy, maybe a beaded sash or a sexy but classy cutout back.” Laura turned to Gabby and put her hand over her mouth. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to take over. This is your day. You should answer.” She shook her head and let out a laugh. “Look at me pretending I’m the one getting married.”

Gabby smiled, glad for the guidance. “Oh, please. That’s why I brought you! You know more about this stuff than I do.” She turned toward Miss Kathie. “Everything Laura said is right. I’m just looking for something simple but elegant, like this.” She handed her the tear-out of the A-line dress Laura had admired in the car.

“Oh, wow—this is definitely a beautiful style,” the woman said, looking at the model. “When’s the big day?”

“Next month, actually.” Her stomach fluttered with a mix of nervousness and excitement.

The woman’s eyes widened. “Quite the time crunch. Well, that just makes it more fun, doesn’t it?” She smiled and put her hand on Gabby’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry—we’re gonna find you a dress today.”

The three of them began pulling dresses off the rack that they thought might work: a sleek halter with a tulle bottom, a lacey off-the-shoulder, and Gabby’s favorite—an elegant cap-sleeved with a sheer low back. As Laura assisted her in the dressing room, Gabby twirled and posed in front of the mirror, feeling as chic as Kate Middleton.

“Girl, you look amazing!” Laura squealed. “Now, for the final touch.” She placed a veil atop her friend’s head.

Gabby gasped. The deep sweetheart neckline—outlined in lace and beading—made her neck look long and regal. A belt covered in clear jewels hugged her slim stomach. Her back peeked through soft sequined netting, looking somehow both sexy and demure. And the veil, elbow length and dotted with fake pearls, completed the picture.

She looked like a bride, a real bride.

“Oooh! What do you think?” Laura asked excitedly.

Gabby studied herself in the mirror, proud of the girl staring back at her. Not just the dress, but everything. This was how Tony saw her every day—the perfect bride, the perfect future wife. Finally, that little voice in the back of her mind that chanted fraud, fraud, fraud went silent.

“So, how’s it going in here?” the woman asked, popping her head into the fitting room area.

“I think this might be the one,” Laura said with a beaming smile.

Gabby smiled and nodded slowly, awed into silence by her own appearance.

“It sure is beautiful,” the woman said. “Now, do you want to try on any more? Or are you sure?”

Gabby kept her eyes on her reflection in the mirror and smiled. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”





25


claire


“CHEERS!” CLAIRE, GABBY, Madison, and Laura cried as they clinked their glasses together, but for some reason, the energy seemed anything but cheery. Maybe it was the thunderstorm brewing outside, but Claire got the feeling none of them wanted to be there—including her, even though it was her belated birthday celebration. They were at Willy’s Crawfish and Catfish, a small kitschy seafood restaurant that had just opened up near Darby Lake, toasting to her twenty-second year.

“So, did you have a good birthday?” Gabby asked, twisting the tail off the boiled crawfish.

“Not really,” Claire admitted, looking out the window at the clouds over the water. “Sadie was sick, so Gavin and I stayed home with her. He cooked us breakfast for dinner—which was so sweet—but bless him, the bacon was burned, and the eggs and grits were too watery.” She grinned. “I could have sworn it was Laura in the kitchen.”

“Not funny,” Laura said, throwing an empty tail across the table. Claire ducked just in time.

“Well, Gavin will just need to make it up to you,” Gabby said. “Tell him to take you to that nice Italian place next to the used-car dealership on Stanley.”

Claire slouched against the booth. “Gavin’s been working like a madman lately. I don’t think I’ll get a rain check.” She tried to pretend it was okay, but Gavin had always been one to go overboard for her birthday. Last year he had surprised her with a romantic backyard picnic under the stars, and the year before that a scavenger hunt around town with twenty small gifts—one for each year of her life. This time, nada. Just some burned food that gave her indigestion later that night.

“What’s he so busy with?” Madison chimed in. “Aren’t you the one writing his book and running his social media?”

Claire popped a crawfish tail in her mouth and gave the excuse he’d given her. “He’s running the entire operation, though. We have a thousand members that he’s taking care of.”

Madison rolled her eyes. “Okay, well, you deserve a lot of credit, too. We know how hard you work.”

“I don’t need credit,” Claire said, taking a sip of her sweet tea. She thought about all the retweets she got, and how preorders of the ebook were already flooding her inbox. People were inspired by her words, even if they were under Gavin’s name. Her latest tweet— @Pastor_Gavin: “A relationship with God can be the most fulfilling one in your life. #SwipeRight”—already had three hundred favorites.

Thunder boomed outside as the storm began rolling in. Silence fell over the girls as they watched the rain start to hit the window.

Claire’s cell phone whistled and vibrated from her bag. It was a message from Gavin.

I’m gonna be later than I thought. Meeting the guys to watch the game right now, so 11 or 12.

Julie Pennell's books