Posts tagged ‘wedding’

When Tomorrow Comes

by: Rebecca Taylor

“When are we going to plan our wedding?” asked Adelise Harmon.

“Tomorrow,” answered her fiancé Roger Archer, “for now, let’s just enjoy the moment.”

“Tomorrow,” replied Adelise, “is what you have been telling me for weeks but tomorrow is replaced with todays and we are no further in planning our wedding. You do still want to marry me don’t you?” She looked away not wanting to see the look in Roger’s eyes.

“Of course I want to marry you,” said Roger reaching across the table and taking Adelise’s hand. “Do you think I would have asked you if I didn’t want to?”

“No,” said Adelise turning her eyes back to Roger, “I just don’t know what to think these days. If we’re ever going to get married, we need to talk about important things like the date and the menu and the guest list.”

“In time,” said Roger, “I just know that details can get complicated and then we’re both going to get stressed out. I want to be married to you, I just don’t know if I want all the tedium that goes along with it.”

“It’s part of the journey to making our day perfect,” said Adelise.

“I get to marry you,” said Roger, “so it will be perfect.”

“That’s very sweet,” said Adelise smiling, then laughing softly, “but you cannot distract me from the big picture.”

“Tomorrow, January 15th, we will start planning our wedding. Tonight I plan on having a romantic dinner with you followed by dancing and maybe a moonlit stroll on the beach,” said Roger.

“I like the sound of that,” said Adelise, “you’re committing to our wedding by planning to plan on a specific date and you’re going to give me an incredible evening. I am so lucky.”

“You are,” answered Roger, “but so am I.”

Dandelion Wishes

*This is a story based on the dandelion picture prompt from last week.


When she was ten, Ella wished upon a dandelion. She wished that she would graduate, grow up, get married and have lots of kids and be a good wife. Maybe even be a soccer Mom.

When she was twelve, Ella found a bridal magazine and created a scrapbook of her favorite wedding ideas.

When she was fourteen, Ella asked a boy to the Sadie Hawkins dance. Ella had her first boyfriend

When she was fifteen, Ella’s boyfriend dumped her. Ella traveled to Costa Rica that year with her family and when she came back, she took down some of her boy band posters and switched them with travel posters. Ella also got another boyfriend.

When she was sixteen, Ella moved to a new state. Ella’s Mother got cancer and her boyfriend broke up with her halfway through her Mom’s treatment.

When she was seventeen, Ella struggled through helping keep her Mom healthy and finishing school. Ella got the worst grades she had ever gotten.

When she was eighteen, Ella’s ex-boyfriend called her and proposed. Ella asked for some time to think about it. Ella found out she got into a college in London the day after. Ella hadn’t expected to get into that college.

Ella called her boyfriend back and decided on a college after thinking it all over.

When she was nineteen, Ella took off to her college in London.

Ella saw a dandelion the night before she left. Ella blew it out and her wish was no longer the same. Ella wished that she would be able to become a journalist, the best she could be.

Ella’s dreams had changed and so had she.

A Vegas Vacation

by: Rebecca Taylor


            It was supposed to be a getaway, a chance to have some fun and let her hair down but Maisie Monroe had found everything but what she was looking for. And all in front of the tux and bridal store. She had been out for a walk, sightseeing – checking out the interesting facets of Vegas. She thought maybe she’d find one of those pawn shops she was always seeing on television and stop in – maybe even meet a celebrity or two. Instead, she had found reminders of past heartbreak and despair in the form of her ex-fiancé’s brother. To be fair, the engagement had ended three years ago and Maisie was glad that she had seen fit to end the relationship before she married a man who claimed to love her yet refused to accept that she was entitled to have opinions about things. He had tried to use his love to hold her back from meeting people or advancing in her career. Thankfully, she had seen the signs before it was too late.

            “You’re the last person I expected to see in Vegas,” said Tom Banyon.

            “Why is that?” asked Maisie, “You didn’t think someone like I could be attracted to such a booming city?” The edge in her voice made it obvious that the pain she felt from Ryan’s behaviour still existed.

            “It was just a statement,” said Tom, “How’ve you been?”


            “That’s good. We’ve missed you, Maisie, just because you broke up with my brother doesn’t mean you had to cut us all off.”

            “Generally that’s how broken engagements work,” replied Maisie, “in order to respect your ex, you don’t become friends with his family anyways.”

            “I know Ryan did and said some things to make you leave, but that doesn’t mean you and I couldn’t get a cup of coffee – after all what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas right?”

            “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” answered Maisie.

            “Come on Maisie, just because my older brother has issues, doesn’t mean you and I have to, what would a cup of coffee hurt? It’s not my first time in Vegas either, let me show you around.”

            “See it starts off a cup of coffee and then ends up being the sights, what next a Vegas wedding chapel? We are standing in front of a bridal and tux store. If that doesn’t send up red flags for you.”

            “Are you superstitious?”

            “Wouldn’t you be?”

            “Why don’t we start with the cup of coffee and see where it leads. I promise I will not marry you on this trip to Vegas,” answered Tom with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

            “Thank you,” answered Maisie, “that means that when I get back home and see sense I will know I didn’t do anything that I cannot undo.”

            “You can undo a marriage – especially a Vegas fast one,” said Tom, “if you want a chance at making it to the alter.”

            “That’s not fair,” answered Maisie walking away.

            “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. It was supposed to be all in fun,” said Tom following her.

            “Do you think it was easy for me to admit that I made a mistake and had to walk away from Ryan and your family? But it wasn’t meant to be, there was no happily ever after there.”

            “Want to talk about it?” asked Tom gently.

            “I think we’ve dredged up enough of the past.”

            “It’s obvious that you’re not over what happened. You wouldn’t be so upset if you were.”

            “Do you have a degree in psychology now?”

            “No, but I can see when someone is hurting.”

            “Please, just leave it. I should be getting back to the hotel anyways.”

            “It’s early still and Vegas doesn’t sleep.”

            “I need time to think. It was nice to see you again.”

            “If you change your mind about coffee or whatever, I’m staying at the Round Tree Hotel.”

            “Are you kidding me?” asked Maisie, “So am I.”

            “Good, then I’ll walk with you.”

            Back at the hotel, Maisie reluctantly agreed to meet Tom for supper later. After all, they were going to be in the same dining room. It was hard to refuse. In her hotel room, Maisie screamed into her pillow. So much for her plan to see some sights, play some slot machines and be free of deadlines and responsibilities for a few days. She hadn’t spoken to any of the Banyon family for three years and now, she was eating supper with the ever so handsome Tom. And to make matters worse, she liked him, and always had. Is it a coincidence that I found him where I did? Ryan’s engaged again, I read that in the paper. What if I have a chance at love, even if it is with his brother? Slow down, Maisie, it’s just supper. We will see where this leads, and wherever it does, I will have to proceed with caution. I know what I want this time, and I’m open to the opportunities supper brings, but I won’t get swept into the romance, first I will think with my head and then ask my heart what it thinks. I won’t let a Vegas romance take over. What happens in Vegas, really should stay there. Unless it doesn’t…anyways, I will have something to tell my friends back home.

The Exchange Policy

Christina Aguilera crooned on my car’s radio: Say something – I’m giving up on you. I quickly shoved my key to ‘off’ position and sweet silence reigned. I sigh, peering through the rain at the shop across the street from where I parked. Bridal and Tux.

Seven months ago, I parallel parked in this very spot, accompanied by my maid of honor and bubbly bridesmaids, all of us smiles and happy tears. That was my dress fitting. Today was the day before the wedding. The now called-off wedding.

The “called-off” part brought a rush of angry adrenaline into my system and I leapt out my car. I lugged the plastic-covered, puffy, fluffy dress out of the backseat. Carrying it in front of me, I couldn’t see a thing, and after almost getting hit by two different taxis and trying to push the pull door, I made it to the front counter of the shop.

A bright blonde in a tight pink dress stood behind the cash register.

Huffing and puffing, I leaned the dress against the counter. “Hi, I’d like to return this.”

The blonde nodded as if completely understanding, but uttered the words: “We have a strict no return and no exchange policy.”

I remembered that from my dress fitting. “Can’t we overlook that for a minute?” I asked, with a pleading look in my eyes. “It’s just been a… crazy few days, and I need to get this off my hands.”

She half grimaced but half smiled at me. As if there was anything even half happy about returning a wedding dress. “Strict policy. Sorry. There’s a consignment shop two blocks over.”

Consignment shop? But I wanted a receipt that attested to the return transaction. I wanted to be sure I had something in return. Something for me to figuratively shake in his face to tell him that I would not leave this situation broken and empty handed. He may have exchanged his love for me for some other younger, blonde woman, but he could not take everything.

The fake blonde with her plastic smile disappeared into the back room, leaving me with the big, fluffy, plastic-covered mass in my arms.

Why did this whole thing seem so backwards? My fiancé told me he’d love me forever, and then he returned his love. Isn’t love the thing that is supposed to have a strict no return – and no exchange –policy? For him, love had no limitations on returns, but I can’t return anything. I’m left cheater and a giant reminder of him in the form of this lacy, itchy, wedding dress.

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