Doncaster [Louis Tomlinson]

27: Wedding Planning

So the second half of this chapter was written before the first half, so I don't know if it'll make sense or not, but yeah. Picture to the side is Jess' dress. Enjoy!

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“Nope. Definitely too tight.” I wheezed out through the restrictive fabric of my dress. I shot my gaze to the mirror on the left wall and offered a disapproving glare at what I saw. My cleavage was practically exploding out of my dress like an 18th century prostitute in a corset, and my thighs were virtually glued together.

            “Come out and show me anyway, I just want to see how that style looks on you.” Mum replied from behind the curtain. I looked to the floor and saw her high heel clad feet pacing about in impatience. She’d rushed straight from work for this shopping trip because now was the only time available in her presently cramped schedule, so naturally I was expected to obey her without complaints.

            It had been a hectic week consisting of venue planning, stressing over flower arrangements and me questioning why everyone was rushing so much. It had only been three, maybe four weeks since the proposal, and mum had chosen the most inconvenient time to abruptly decide to plan a wedding in two months. She’d insisted on a summer wedding, and because she was too smitten and giddy to hold one rational thought, instead of waiting a full year she’d set the date for June 24th. Only a month away.

            But since it was my parent’s second wedding, there wasn’t really any need for it to be as extravagant as the first. It was only going to be small — 40 guests max, just including family from mum’s side I was familiar with, like Gran and Aunty Angela, a few uncles and cousins from dad’s side, a couple of work colleagues and a few friends. I’d even convinced mum to squeeze in my four Hall Cross friends in case socialising with my paternal cousins who’d I’d never met, but were around my age apparently, became all too tragic.

            However this was always mum’s forte; planning, managing and organising things. Although she’d never admit it, I could tell she enjoyed having ‘lots to do’ and ‘no time to spare’. The way she handled things so professionally would put any wedding planner to the test.

            Now, we were shopping for my bridesmaids dress at some boutique, even though I had a mound of urgent revision still sitting on my desk.

            I swiped the curtain back, still adorning a grimace as mum’s eyes studied me. She didn’t make any initial comment on the dress, just called for the attendant, a quiet blonde woman, and asked for the same product in the next size up.

            “I think this is the one.” she said definitively once the attendant had left, a shock of excitement in her voice like she couldn’t contain herself. “What do you think?”

            I tentatively spun back to the mirror, not really wanting to see that horrid sight of me again. Before I’d been so focused on trying to crawl my way into the tight dress that I’d failed to acknowledge the actual design of it. Now, as I surveyed my reflection in detail, I tried to ignore how puffed out my chest looked. It was a strapless, heather coloured, flowing maxi dress complete with a flower embellishment at the waist. It complemented my complexion perfectly and I smiled at the vision of me wearing a garment of the same design which actually fitted me.

            I just gave my mum a knowing nod of approval, not really the type to gush and scream over how perfect one’s dress is. Mum gave me a questioning thumbs up for even more confirmation and I began to nod my head so fast I felt like it was going to drop off. The attendant returned and I eagerly slipped into the gown she handed me, excitement bubbling up my throat. When I pulled the curtain back a second time mum just said ‘Yes.’ and that was basically it; we were sold.