Chapter 50

Jamie

"You look fine."

Brock met me downstairs mid-afternoon, after I'd scrubbed my hands and brushed my hair, then stripped off my overalls. I had done my best to look as presentable as possible, but the break to my morning routine meant I hadn't really put thought into what I was wearing. Grabbing the t-shirt and jeans at the top of the clean clothes pile, I'd just pulled them on and headed for the door with little thought about going to a dress shop, so when I looked down and saw faded, distressed cotton, I knew this wouldn't go well.

"Everything will be fine," he informed me, as if that was enough to make it so. "C'mon, we don't want to be late on top of everything else."

I'm not sure the ladies would've noticed if I was, because as the bell on the door announced my presence to everyone, it felt like I walked into an explosion of white satin, silk, and lace. That and many, many excited voices told me exactly where I needed to be.

"Ring me if you need out of here early," Brock said in a low voice, making it look like he was whispering sweet nothings into my ear, not escape plans. "I will drop everything and come grab you the minute you say so. I'll just be around the corner at a cafe, and I can invent some work emergency to get you out, got it?"

I didn't get a chance to answer, as every woman's head turned my way.

"Jamie!" Nadia was sweet, sweeter than Frankie ever deserved, and I saw that in the way her face lit up. She was dressed in a stunning, white-satin sheath and she dropped down from the small podium where everyone was fussing over her and shimmied my way. "You made it? I wasn't sure if you could get away from work."

"She begged me," Brock said and I shot him a dark look. "Said she couldn't possibly miss this important of an event in her future sister-in-law's life."

"Oh my god, really?" She was going to hug me. My whole body stiffened in response, but I let a breath out and leaned into it, catching the shop assistant's look of alarm. I held my hands out, hovering them awkwardly, so as to not mark the satin. "And who's this big, tall specimen? One of your roster of hot boyfriends?"

"My boss," I replied.

"Yes," Brock said at the same time. He smirked my way as I glared at him, but his hand went around my waist. "Now, sweetheart, you hang out here, have a good time, and let me know when you need to be picked up. If you find something you like…" He scanned the wall of wedding dresses, then fished out his wallet and handed me his card. "You grab it using that."

I blinked, Nadia blinked, everyone in the shop blinked as my limp fingers were closed around the card, all of us watching Brock as he sauntered out. He touched a finger to his temple as he walked, performing a funny little salute in recognition of the attention he was getting. Attention that transferred to me as soon as he was out of sight.

"Damn, how do I get me one of them?" one woman with the same beautiful blonde hair as Nadia said.

"You're married, bitch," another woman with similar features said, giving her a shove. The first woman had to put her hand over her champagne flute, lest it spill. "What I want to know is how far those tattoos go."

"You're both married," an older woman with kind eyes said, giving them a long look. "Now, you're Frankie's sister, Jamie?" I nodded. "Good, good, so we need to do some introductions. I'm Nadia's mum, Deidre, and these are her sisters, Kelly and Jan. This is her auntie Hilary…"

I tried my best to remember all the names, but knew it was a losing battle. They all seemed to blur together until I caught sight of Mum sitting there, wine glass held stiffly between her fingers.

"Of course you know Majorie," Deidre joked and I smiled, but Mum didn't, staring me down. She took in what I was wearing, seeming to take in every wrinkle, every stain, right up until she reached my work boots, a frown forming.

"Hi, Mum."

I waved my hand with a weak smile, and that seemed to kick her into gear. She stood tall and walked over with all of the hauteur of a runway model.

"So, you were able to get away from work after all?"

What choice did I have? My message bank was filled with increasingly hostile voice messages, and I'd gotten so many texts I'd been forced to put my phone into Do Not Disturb mode.

"Yep."

I tried to keep my tone light so as to not make things awkward, but with introductions over, the whole room came to life. A flute of champagne was shoved into my hands and I was plonked in a seat in front of a charcuterie board, able to snag a chunk of cheese as everyone else flitted around Nadia. Her current dress was discussed with great animation by all her family members.

"And those are the best clothes you could find?" Mum hissed at me as women pulled dresses off racks, shoving them at Nadia. "You look like a street urchin."

"I look like a fucking mechanic, Mum."

I was being far too blunt, but I didn't know what else she wanted from me. Sure enough, her mouth fell open, gasping for a moment before she sucked in a breath to tell me off. Instead, I placed the wine glass on the table, grabbed another chunk of cheese, because damn, it was this sharp, crumbly vintage cheddar and it tasted amazing, but as I chewed, I drew closer. We were here to help Nadia find a dress, and by the look on the bride-to-be's face, she was going to need it.

Nadia's family was just as sweet, but overwhelming, with it. When I saw the whites of my brother's fiance's eyes, I knew exactly what she was feeling.

"This one, darling!" one of her aunt's said. "With your tiny waist and slim body, you'll look like a princess. Look at the beautiful embroidery on the skirts."

"Too fussy," a cousin said with a definite shake of her head. "And going to the toilet in a dress like that is hell. Ask me how I know." She shot Nadia a meaningful look. "Unless you want a bridesmaid on loo duty all night, or refuse to drink a damn thing, those dresses are hell."

"She could wear the dress down the aisle, then wear something simpler for the reception," the aunt countered.

"And she won't need to pee before the ceremony?" another auntie said. "I went like twenty times before we made it down the aisle. Nervous bladder. No, something like this." She held up a similar gown with a strapless bodice but less full skirts. "It'll be more manageable."

"Except she'll be hiking that up all night." This was Nadia's grandmother, or great grandmother by the look of her. "Frankie might like it, with our girl having her goodies out on display. Might have him running up the aisle to nab her before she changes her mind." She smiled as she turned to the bride-to-be. "Straps, my girl, mark my words. You'll be thanking me before the wedding's end."

"But she has such beautiful shoulders…"

"A full skirt is so romantic…"

"A fishtail skirt will make the most of her curves…"

The shop assistant tried to interject, her eyes widening as she saw hideously expensive dresses waved around like flags, but she couldn't get a word in edgewise.

And neither could Nadia.

I knew exactly what was going on. She was getting drowned in advice, the waves of it coming so thick and fast she couldn't keep her head above water.

And that's when I stepped in.

Wriggling my way through the crowds was a bit of a feat, especially when I was trying very hard not to step on all of these expensive dresses, but when I reached her side, Nadia shot me a hopeless look. My hand reached out impulsively, taking hers and giving it a squeeze, before I leaned in close to say the words I'd want to hear if I was her.

"What do you want?" I asked in a low voice, knowing better than to alert the well-meaning army of family members here. "It's your dress and your day. The only thing you'll remember at the end of it is that you're now married to my dickhead brother and how you felt about the ceremony." I scanned the many, many racks. "What kind of dress would make your wedding perfect for you?"

She swallowed and then squeezed my hand back before finding her voice.

"I love a full skirt. It's very Disney princess, but I think they really neglect to show how hard it is to get around in them. Remember the dress I wore to my Year 12 formal?"

"You looked beautiful," her sister said.

"But it was a pain in the arse. I don't want that on my wedding day," Nadia countered. "I don't really want to go to the expense of buying two dresses either."

"Smart," her grandmother said. "Save that money for a house deposit."

I nearly snorted at that. Either Nanna had no idea how much money was needed to buy a house these days or these dresses were heinously expensive.

"I did really want something strapless." Nadia's hands trailed across her collarbone. "I know Frankie would like the view." I nodded, pained that I knew how much my brother liked tits, specifically Nadia's, but I did. "But yeah, hitching my dress up all night would be a nightmare. I'm not sure about straps though."

Mentally I was filing this information away, noting that her nose wrinkled at that idea.

"I think…" Nadia turned to her grandmother. "I think I want something all glamorous, like those old movies you used to show us."

"Ava Gardner and Marilyn Monroe?" Nanna responded with a pleased smile. "Those were the days. Women really dressed like women back then."

"OK…" I stepped away from the hubbub, mentally signalling to the stressed looking shop assistant to follow me. "You heard the lady. No full skirts, something that gets as close to strapless as possible, but without actual straps. 1940-50s glamour. Do you have anything like that?"

"I'll do my best."

The woman bustled away, retrieving the now discarded selections from Nadia's family and putting them back on the rack as I followed. She flicked through dresses with terrible precision, pulling out this dress, then that, before retrieving a selection.

"They'll need some alterations, but…" The assistant shot me a triumphant smile. "I think one of these might work."

I went to help her carry the pile of dresses, but the wary look she shot me had me retracting my offer. Instead, we walked back to the crowd.

"What do you think of these, Nadia?" I asked.

"Oh…"

For a moment I thought I'd completely stuffed up. Her eyes went wide as she took each one in. Other family members stepped in, taking a dress each from the assistant, then presenting them for Nadia to inspect. She didn't need to, though. One step, then another, she moved as if in a dream towards one.

It was a long dress, but rather than affecting a princess line, it was the more close fitting silhouette of an old Hollywood vamp. The white satin still kept it wedding, but it was curiously simple, the lines of the dress more important than decoration. It nipped in at the waist, had the kind of strapless bodice people were talking about, but rather than leave the shoulders bare, a delicate lace shrug had been added, creating a high neckline, but one where all of Nadia's assets would be displayed in a combination that would be demure and sexy all at the same time.

"This…"

She turned then, eyes shining, tears starting to form, and while I'd never understand this kind of reaction to a dress, I understood happiness. Nadia was happy and that's what mattered. I grabbed a wine glass off a table and sculled the contents, then said, "Well, looks like you need to try it on."

With a little giggle, she did just that, emerging not long afterwards looking like a dream.

The poor girl, you could've heard a pin drop in that moment. Everyone clustered forward, even Mum joining the group, as they stared.

"Do you like it?" Nadia asked, her voice a little thready.

"Like it?" her mother said and that started everyone off. Compliments showered down on Nadia and she deserved every one. She looked like a picture of old-school glamour. "We love it, but what about you?"

She clasped her daughter's hands as Nadia nodded sharply, tears filling her eyes.

"This is the one, Mum. This is it."

Why did I look sideways then, not at the happy women, but to my own mother? Perhaps because her eyes were burning into the side of my face then. Mum looked similarly moved right now, patting the corner of her eyes with a paper serviette, but then her gaze seemed to sharpen. She moved through the crowd, not towards the lucky bride, but to me.

"So you do like dresses."

I was dress agnostic. Sometimes I found pieces like the one Millie bought that made me feel good, but most of the time I recognised that beauty was pain and I didn't want to suffer for it. They were uncomfortable, left me feeling awkward, and I got little of the pay off. But making people happy? Yeah, I liked that, and Nadia looked near bloody radiant right now. I hoped Frankie was working hard to get the sharpest suit he could find to try and match her perfection when she walked down the aisle.

"Good," Mum said, her fingers wrapping around my arm. "You can come and look for one for yourself."