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Every Bride Needs a Groom
Folks were surely wondering why he seemed to be taking his time. But I didn’t need to focus on Casey tonight. I had to whip together an essay guaranteed to catch the eye—and heart—of Nadia James, the dress designer from Cosmopolitan Bridal.
What could I say to win her over? Would I tell her about my small-town life? Convince her that the dress had to be perfect for a small-town-girl-goes-uptown-for-her-wedding-day event? Would I share the story of how Casey and I had grown up together and were destined to be man and wife from the time we were children?
Man and wife. Hmm. I caught a glimpse of my parents, who gazed at each other with genuine sweetness. One day that would be Casey and me. We’d sit next to each other at Sam’s, elderly parents at our side, gabbing with our children about hernias and hemorrhoids. We’d talk about baseball and reminisce about Queenie’s obsession with the Presbyterians.
In the meantime, I’d better wrap up this meal so I could get home to write an award-winning essay before the clock struck midnight.
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