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Chapter Eighteen


Rochelle drained the last of her glass of champagne, and grabbed the stem of Lauren's untouched glass, which had been left on the little taffetta-covered table in the bridal shop they were dress-hunting at. She hugged her knees to her chest as she held the glass. Across the room, three identical Rochelles did the same thing in the reflection from a gaudy multi-panel mirror that looked like something straight out of the Littrell house. Rochelle could picture the thing in the corner of Leighanne's "boudoir" as she called her oversized, custom-built walk-in closet.

Actually everything about Helen Von Troump had reminded Rochelle a little of Leighanne and she was relieved she hadn't gone to Helen Von Troump for her wedding with AJ after all. AJ had turned out to be the perfect wedding planner in the end. She looked around the room. She had a feeling their gothic themed wedding would've looked more like a marshmellow if she'd managed to get Helen involved. Not that it was bad, Rochelle just had a different taste than Helen and Leighanne, who she was convinced would've gotten along perfectly. In fact, Rochelle pictured Leighanne being Helen in 30 years time.

Having thought that, she had to choke back a laugh as Helen swept back into the room. She had long grey hair tucked back in a ponytail and wide eyes that were made to look even larger by the huge, hot-pink glasses that she wore. They were magnified by the lenses and accented by teal jewel tone eye shadow. Helen Von Troump looked like a retired Disney Princess forced to work at a 1950s diner.

But whatever Helen looked like Lauren looked like an angel when she came through the door behind her wearing a dress that hung like a bell from her waist and just barely touched the floor. Rochelle sat forward and put the glass on the table, her eyes wide as Lauren stepped in front of the gaudy mirror and turned, looking at the dress from every angle. She turned and looked at Rochelle. Her hands flew to her chest, "Are my boobs big enough for this dress?" she asked.

Rochelle nodded, "Your boobs are perfect for that dress," she replied. She stood up and made Lauren turn around again to look at the mirror. Rochelle reached up and pulled Lauren's hair up and held it in a pile on the top of her head. "You look fantastic."

Lauren stared at her reflection. "It's a pretty dress."

"It's kind of perfect," Rochelle agreed.

Lauren glanced down at her chest again and her hair tumbled out of Rochelle's hand. "Are you sure about the chest, though? I feel like it shows off more than I really have or something..."

"Skin is not a bad thing. Have you met Nick? He's gonna be all over that."

Lauren nodded. She laughed, "You'd fill this out way better than me," she said.

"I'd never get my ass in that dress," Rochelle laughed back.

"Are the straps in the back okay?" Lauren turned and Rochelle investigated the bodice lacing across Lauren's back.

"Again, it's perfect," Rochelle said.

Lauren laughed, "I can't believe the first dress I try on is the dress," she said. "Things are going so smooth..." she hesitated, her eyes landing on the champagne glasses on the taffetta table. Lauren turned back to the mirror, her face thoughtful. "Maybe I shouldn't be buying a dress this early on in the planning," she said.

"Why?" Rochelle asked.

Lauren shrugged, studying herself in the mirror, "What if I gain weight or something?"

Rochelle snorted. "Lauren you've been the same weight for as long as I've known you."

"You never know," Lauren answered.

"Get the dress," Rochelle said, "It's incredibly perfect, it makes you look gorgeous, and you'll regret it if you don't."

Lauren nodded.

"Nick's gonna salivate when he sees it," Rochelle added.

Lauren laughed.

Helen Von Troump, who'd stayed silent until this point, suddenly leaped into the picture and climbed up on the stool that the brides usually stood on and slid a tiara with a veil attachment onto Lauren's head. It took the stool to get her close enough to reach Lauren's head. The veil slipped over Lauren's face. "Like an absolute dream," cooed Helen in a dreamy, whispy sort of voice that forcibly made Rochelle think of Professor Trelawny, the divination teacher of the Harry Potter series. Helen stepped back. "Add the bouquet of wild roses we spoke about before you're an absolute dream."

Lauren met her own eyes in the mirror, "I feel like I'm dreaming," she mumbled.


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Nick walked into the house after his trip to see his psychologist and found the note on the table in the kitchen telling him the girls had gone dress shopping, but Lauren had left a plate of food for him in the fridge. He opened the door and saw a plate covered in plastic wrap with a bunch of carrot and celery sticks and ranch with a half a sandwich. He pursed his lips and glanced at the note. They weren't gonna be back 'til five... he glance at the clock... and picked up the phone and ordered a large meatball sub to be delivered. He took the plate out of the fridge and carried it to the living room and flopped into the sofa cushions.

Panda, Igby, and Nacho followed him into the living room. Panda and Igby jumped onto the couch beside him. Nick split the sandwich into three pieces and gave each of them a piece. "Gotta make Lauren think I ate it," he said, "You guys score big time." Igby dropped his piece onto the carpet and backed away, glaring up at Nick. Nick bent over and picked the piece up and offered it to Panda. "Sorry, Iggers," he said, "Why do you think I don't want that shit?" he asked.

He flipped through the channels until he found a football replay and leaned back, holding the remote control and staring at the screen. Panda snuggled against Nick's leg. He ran his hand over the snarly little mess of a dog. "Fuck this game is boring," he muttered and he grabbed the remote and started flipping through the channels.

By the time the door bell rang and Nick's sub had arrived, he was almost completely absorbed by the drama on some reality show he'd found about models who were competing to get a shoot with a major company. He peeled himself away and got the sub and paid the delivery guy and headed back to the show. He was so engulfed that when five o'clock came and Lauren and Rochelle got home, he hadn't gotten up to throw away the wrapper to his sub.

Luckily for Nick, Lauren was carrying the dress she'd bought and was charging up the stairs rather than checking in on Nick right away. But Rochelle raised an eyebrow from the doorway, "Enjoy those carrot and celery sticks, did you?" she asked.

Nick looked up, spotted the wrapper and balled it, "Don't tell," he said thickly, shoving the wrapper into the cushions.

"Don't tell me what?" Lauren asked, coming up behind Rochelle after depositing the dress carefully in the closet.

"Nothing," Nick replied.

Rochelle grinned, "It's okay, Nicky, I don't think your baby minds you were checking out America's Next Top Model..."

Lauren rolled her eyes.

"What? It's dramatic," he said.

"And I'm sure your interest has nothing at all to do with the cleavage."

Nick shrugged, "I mean that was a bonus..." But even as he said the words he realized how AJ watching that show was and he cursed himself silently because it'd been less than two hours before that he'd sworn to himself he was gonna stop letting himself get involved with AJ-related things.

Like Rochelle.

Lauren turned the TV off. "Are you hungry?" she asked, "I know I didn't leave you a huge meal but I thought we could all go out tonight..."

Rochelle was smirking over Lauren's shoulder.

Nick had a feeling that this not getting involved with AJ-like things thing was going to be a lot harder than originally planned.

Nick nodded. "Yeah, that sandwich, wow, was good." Panda belched his agreement.