Tuesday, November 8, 2011

TUESDAY TALES - Prompt: wedding

Today I have the imagined wedding between my hero and heroine of my new Thanksgiving novella that came out today, "The Marriage List".             

Carrie sat on the velvet window seat in her strapless bra, panties and slip and looked out the master bedroom window at the large expanse of lawn. A few people were hurrying around, putting up a huge tent and setting up tables. Grey, wearing a tuxedo, stood on the slate patio with his three best friends. Facing away from the house, the men drank champagne, talked and laughed. Carried sighed. This was her wedding day.

            Delia Tucker, Carries’ aunt and owner of this house where the wedding would take place, entered the room. She walked swiftly, with purpose, her hand shaking slightly.
            “The caterers are here. The judge is not due to arrive…” she glanced at her watch, “for another half hour…and you’re not dressed?”
            “Don’t want to wrinkle the dress,” Carrie said, turning away from Delia.
            “Hey? What’s up,” Delia asked, taking Carrie’s chin in her hand and turning it around.
            Carrie lowered her lashes and blinked back tears.
            “Wedding jitters? You need a drink.”
            Delia turned and marched out of the room, closing the door quietly. Carrie pushed to her feet and moved to the desk. She took a piece of Delia’s fancy stationery, then rooted around in the top drawer until she found a pen. She wrote a note to Grey.

Are you sure you want to marry me? We haven’t known each other for long. Not even a                         year. I failed at this before and I’m not feeling too confident. I’m scared.
                                                                                                Love,
                                                                                                Carrie

She folded the note in half as someone knocked at her door. She slipped on her silk
cream-colored robe and gave permission to enter. A young man carried a frosty glass of champagne.     “Ms. Tucker sent this,” he said, handing her the glass.
            Carrie accepted it with a smile and handed the note to the young man.
            “Do you know who the groom is?”
            He nodded.
            “Good. Please give this to him.”
            As the man left, Carrie took up her place at the window again. It wasn’t long before the young man approached Grey. She watched her fiancé turn and take the note, his brow knitting in concern as he raised his eyes to look up at the window. Carrie raised her hand and flattened it against the window. The men around him stopped talking and watched Grey. He opened the note, looked up at her again and raised his palm to her.
            Then he handed his glass to Spence, on his right and walked toward the house. Carrie got flustered. She sat at the window and shook her head vigorously but Grey had his head down and didn’t see her. He can’t see me like this. It’s bad luck. I ignored that stupid thing the first time and look what happened.
            Almost before she could finish her thought, there was a knock on the door. Carrie pulled her robe closer.
                        “Who is it?”
            “Grey.”
            “What do you want? You can’t come in it’s bad luck.”
            “Come on, Carrie. I need to talk to you. That’s silly superstition.”
            “I ignored that the first time and look what happened. Not opening the door.”
            There was a moment of silence and Carrie held her breath.
            “Have it your way. We’ll have to talk through the door. Everyone can hear me.”
            Carrie padded to the door and placed her hand on the doorknob.
            “If I crack the door, we can still talk but you won’t be able to see me. Okay? Can we do it that way? I’m afraid.”
            “Okay, okay. Crack the door.”
            Carrie turned the knob and slid the door open about three inches. She moved quickly away from the opening, keeping her hand on the knob and holding the door steady.
            “Tell me about the note you sent me.”
            “Well…I…I’m. I don’t want you to be sorry afterward. If you want out, now is the time.”
            “What makes you think I want out?”
            “I don’t know. I’m nervous, I guess. Don’t want to make the same mistake again.”
            “Carrie, honey, it took me three years to find you. I love you. I couldn’t be happier. You’re the one, baby, believe me. If you’d open this door, I could show you how much I love you.”
            She chuckled and tightened her grip on the knob slightly.
            “No way. I know all about you and sex, Mister.”
            “I was referrinig to a kiss.”
            Carrie closed her eyes and sighed. How great a kiss from Grey would feel at that moment.
            “Don’t tempt me,” she murmured.
            “We can at least hold hands, sort of. Open the door a little wider.”
            Carrie inched the door wider until she saw his hand slip through the  opening. He motioned for her to come closer. His hand waving in the air tickled her funny bone and she laughed.
            “You look funny! A disembodied hand.”
            “Get over here, baby. Put your hand in mine.”
            Carrie stepped closer and placed her hand in his. His hand was pleasantly warm and as his fingers closed around hers, she closed her eyes again. A smile stole across her face
 “I love you, Carrie. I’ll never leave you, I’ll love you forever. Don’t be scared to marry
me, honey. We’ll be great together, like we are now.”
            Carrie stood still focusing on the gentle pressure from his hand on hers. A sense of peace stole into her heart and a wave of tranquility washed over her.
            “Is that what you needed to hear?” He asked.
            She opened her eyes slowly and rested her forehead against the door.
            “I think it was. You always know what to say when I’m…falling apart.”
            “That’s one reason we belong together.”
            “I’m okay now.”
            Grey withdrew his hand.
            “Don’t stand in the window in your underwear, the guys are down there. They don’t miss a thing.”
            “Oh, my God. You saw me. That’s right. So the deed is done already.”
            Carrie let go of the doorknob and stood back. Grey pushed the door open slowly and stepped in. He took Carrie in his arms and kissed her long and sweetly. Then he let her go, turned and disappeared through the door as quietly as he came. She rubbed the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip as she walked back to the window. Sure enough, Grey’s pals were staring up at the window when he rejoined them. He stopped and turned to look at her and smile. She waved.
            Time to get dressed. Don’t want to be late to my own wedding. 

 A bit about the book
 Can happily ever after start with a list? Grey Andrews thinks so. After ten years of working, saving and investing, Grey finally achieved a level of wealth that allows him to do what he wants with his life. He needs a woman to share it with, but not any woman, the perfect woman. A woman who has the three essential qualities on his marriage list. But after three years of searching he isn’t any closer to finding her than he was when he started out.
 Carrie Tucker, an aspiring mystery writer and divorcée struggling to make it in the world of advertising, turned her focus from men to her career after dating too many creeps and losers. She’s finally earned her big break, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to become the first female creative director in a hot New York ad agency. So what if it means working nights and weekends? It’s not like she has a social life anyway.
Is the marriage list a failure or will a chance meeting at a fiction-writing conference prove the list to be the key to Grey’s happiness after all?

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2 comments:

  1. If you like this snippet, you will LOVE, LOVE, LOVE The Marriage List. It's a must read, especially now that the days are growing shorter and the nights a little cooler.

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  2. I really enjoyed this piece. I can't wait to read it. You pulled me right in during this scene. Awesome write.

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