Before: The Call of Duty
Nick
It would be more than three weeks before we'd hear back from Fellow's Group Home about Ashley's parents.
But it was less than one week before Ashley called me again. "Are you ready, oh Maid of Honor?" she aked.
I was standing in the kitchen at my house, shoving fruit and veggies into a juicer. I'd already finished making my breakfast smoothie, but there was something oddly satisfying about shoving stuff into the juicer and watching it get shredded to a pulp and dispensed in its liquid state. "Ready for what?" I asked. I took a sip of my smoothie.
"Ready to begin fulfilling your honorary duties?"
I lowered the glass and did a Beavis and Butthead style laugh. "Heh-heh... You said doodies," I said.
Ashley half-laughed in spite of herself, "Nickolas..."
"Yes, I'm ready to fulfill duties," I said. "What are they?"
"Duty one, come pick me up," she said.
"Then what?"
"You'll see," she answered.
I poured my smoothie into a to-go cup and put the random concoction I'd made playing around into the fridge. It was probably going to be gross considering it had everything from an avacado's innards to raspberries in it. But that was a risk I was willing to take. Later on, anyway.
I drove to Ashley's and she was waiting by the curb which Chris, who was in his purple and khaki Fed-Ex uniform. She climbed in, affixed her buckle as Chris leaned against the window, head in the car. He pecked her cheek with his mouth and I looked down to keep from watching them kiss. "You take care of my woman now, you hear," Chris said, "No plane crashes or anything, Carter," he joked.
I forced a smile that only turned up half my face, "I'll take care of Ashley."
She ain't yours yet, I thought.
Chris and I shared this weird moment where our eyes locked. I had this wretched feeling he could read my mind at that moment, and as though confirming this, Chris kissed Ashley a second time. "I love you," he said.
"You too, sweetie," Ashley answered. "Be safe on your route," she added.
Chris patted the car and backed away from the window and I pulled out of the space I'd stopped at. "Where to?" I asked.
Ashley had her wedding scarpbook open on her lap. "There's a dress shop on Spencer Ave," she said, "And according to the website they're having a sale."
Twenty minutes later, we were parked outside Matenelli's Once in a Lifetime Briadal Gowns and I was putting my credit card into the parking meter. Ashley moved foot to food, staring up at the window with awe in her eyes. "Look at them Nick, just look at them! Those mannequins look like royalty."
I glanced over my shoulder, "Especially the one with the tiara," I replied. I took my receipt for the paid parking and said, "Don't let me forget to come out and reup that in like an hour if we're still here."
"We'll still be here," she said breathlessly, and she moved forward into the dress shop.
The door jingled Here Comes the Bride as we walked in, and a petite, yet quite round, woman floated from the back of the store towards us, "Hello, hello, hello," she sang out as we approached, "Congratulations!" She took Ashley's hands into hers once she was close enough for physical contact.
"Thank you!" Ashley replied.
I was looking around, and the woman must not've seen my scar yet because she declared, "What a gorgeous couple the two of you are!"
Ashley laughed, "We aren't the couple." I turned forward and saw the woman react to the scar on the side of my face. Her eyes widened for just a split second, then turnd to focus on Ashley. "We're just friends. Well, he's my maid of honor. This is Nick, and I'm Ashley."
"Mrs. Martinelli," the woman replied, "But most just call me Flo." She studied me a moment, "Do I know you from somewhere?" she asked.
I started to answer with something like I don't know, but Ashley beat me to it, "He's Nick Carter. You know, from the Backstreet Boys."
Mrs. Martinelli's face rang surprise, then understanding. Probably remembering TMZ or something. "Ah yes, I've sold many a track of yours." She waved at a wall of wedding mix CDs. "Come with me," she said, spinning on her heels, "Let's see what we can find. What's your size, dear?"
Ashley smiled at me, then followed Mrs. Martinelli deeper into the shop, telling her the size she wore and describing her dream dress as we walked through racks and racks of dresses, Mrs. Martinelli grabbing random ones from the racks here and there until she had a nice stack of them flung over her arm. I followed like a dog.
Mrs. Martinelli seemed to know her store inside and out and soon she'd collected probably fifteen dresses and led us back to a big room with a ton of mirrors and a couple seats along one wall. She waved me to the seat and beckoned Ashley into the center of the room. "Okay, let's try this on," she jingled.
Ashley glanced around for a dressing room, realized she was in the dressing room, then looked at me, "Close your eyes. And no peeking."
"I've already seen it all," I said. Mrs. Martinelli's eyebrows went up.
"Nick," Ashley said in a warning tone.
So I covered my eyes.
But I have to admit I did peek through a narrow crack in my fingers as Ashley pulled her tee shirt off over her head and unbuttoned her jeans. She stepped out of her slacks and stood there in the center of the room in plain white cotton underwear and bra, her red hair hanging down her pale back. I noticed a mole on her hip that I'd noticed the night we'd had sex in Las Vegas. She was gorgeous. And then Mrs. Martinelli put a dress on over her head and they worked together to get the thing fastened and perfected.
"Okay," Ashley said. "Nick you can open your eyes."
I lowered my hand. The dress hugged her curves and pouffed out at the waist. It looked like a bell with big poofy sleeves. I shook my head.
The next hour seemed to me like a blur of white satin and lace and other materials I dunno the names of. I kept having to cover and uncover my eyes. I checked my watch until it was time to go out and check the parking meter, and excused myself. I stood outside on the sidewalk a little longer than it really took me to pay the meter, and even thought about having a cigarette, but the last time I'd tried, I'd choked on the smoke and it had brought on a flashback of the fire and being trapped in the airplane.
Consequently, I had almost a full pack in my glove box.
When I finally went back inside, to the tune of Here Comes the Bride, I wove my way back through the store to the dressing room. "Well we're paid for another hour," I said as I stepped in the doorway.
Ashley turned around.
It was a cream color dress, sleeveless. The bodice hugged her chest right down to her hips then gracefully fell in layers that slowly widened out from her body, right to the floor. The bodice was covered with little pearls in a flowery pattern. She looked like a fucking angel.
"Holy shit," I whispered.
Ashley's smile was wide, her teeth all showing. "Yeah?" she asked.
I nodded.
"That is... you look..." I couldn't even come up with an adjective. "Wow," I finished.
Ashley's eyes danced with excitement. She turned to Mrs. Martinelli. "This one doesn't say things like that easily. How much is it?" She struggled to find a tag.
Now Mrs. Martinelli looked like a smart woman and I swear she knew exactly what she was doing. She snapped the tag off Ashley's back and looked at it, though I have a suspicion she didn't need to, and she said, "Oh this one is a very, very good deal. It's on sale for only two thousand dollars."
I thought Ashley was going to plotz.
"Two thousand dollars?" she choked.
"Looking this beautiful... it has a price," Mrs. Martinelli said.
Ashley struggled, twisting her arms, trying to reach for the zipper, "I can't afford that... I was thinking like five hundred at the most for my price range... Two thousand, that's just crazy, I'm going to wear it like once and never put it on again..." her elbows flapped as she tried like crazy to unzip the thing.
I covered my eyes as Mrs. Martinelli unzipped her and I heard Ashley climb out of the dress. "Do you have any cheaper ones?" she asked, "Like under five hundred?"
"I do..."
"Anything similar to this?"
"Not for under five hundred dollars," Mrs. Martinelli said.
"We'll take it," I said, eyes still covered.
The room went silent and for a moment I thought that they'd maybe left to go look for under $500 gowns and I lowered my hands. Ashley was standing there staring at me in her under-thingies, her jaw dropped, and Mrs. Martinelli was holding the dress across her arms, with a grin on her face. All she was lacking was dollar signs in her eyes.
"Nick," Ashley breathed, "I can't afford that dress." She quickly grabbed her tee shirt and held it up in front of her, covering her chest. She forgot she was standing in front of mirrors that reflected her perfect butt and back and that mole at me, but I wasn't really looking at that anyway.
"I can, though," I said, "And you looked way too beautiful in it to pass on it."
"But Nick --"
I shook my head, "No buts." I turned to Mrs. Martinelli, "I assume you take credit."
Ashley
The dress was wrapped in a beige garment bag, hanging from the handles in the back of Nick's car. I kept looking back at it in the mirror over the visor, making sure it was still there, feeling so excited I was almost sick. I wanted to wear that dress every single day for the rest of my damn life.
"You did not have to do that," I breathed.
Nick shrugged, "I know. But you wanted it and..." he shrugged again. "I don't know. You deserve it."
"I can't believe you did that," I said. "It's the most beautiful dress in the entire world."
"Fitting it's going on the most beautiful girl in the entire world," Nick said. He turned red.
I stared at him. From the right side like this, he looked the same as he alway had. It was easy to forget everything that happened in January. I felt my heart skip at beat at his words - words that I'd dreamt him saying many times, and a part of me worried I was dreaming and would wake up at any moment. "Thank you," I said.
"You're welcome," Nick replied.
We rode along in silence. Nick licked his lips a couple times and opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but he didn't, and after a few moments I pointed to a street for him to turn down and he asked, "Where to next, anyways?"
"Well I'm not ordering it for months yet, but I thought we could do something you'd enjoy more than the dresses," I said.
"What's that?"
"Right here," I waved and Nick slid into a spot. I pointed across the street at the bakery. "Cake tasting."
Nick grinned. "Oh hell yeah, that I can do."
"I thought you might be able to assist me in this one," I grinned.
Nick smirked, "It is the call of duty," he said in a noble voice, "And I must answer."
The rest of the day went by in a blur to me. There was a lot of delicious cake, and a lot of laughs, but I don't really remember specifically what they were about. That's how life is with Nick, it's a blurry hazy mess of perfection. I stood there in the bakery, holding the tiny paper plates of cake samples and watching him - watching how his eyes and nose crinkled when he laughed really hard and the way he rolled his eyes up when he tasted a really amazing chocolate raspberry cake - and I remembered all the reasons I'd dreamed of him my entire life.
He really was the one that got away, I thought, popping a lemon cream cake into my mouth.
But at least I would always have the most amazing best friend in the world.
Chapter End Notes:
Just because I've been asked... This is the style of the dress, only in Ivory: http://www.davidsbridal.com/Product_Satin-Faced-Organza-Fit-and-Flare-Gown-VW351020_Bridal-Gowns-Shop-By-Designer-White-by-Vera-Wang
