She was kidding, sort of. I had been a hot commodity when my divorce from my first wife went through, but there were never any sparks or real connection with anyone. Not until I saw Jackie. Before she ever spoke to me, she had become important to me. Funny how those things work out. Like it was meant to be.
“Did I tell you what happened to Jackie’s wedding dress?” I asked.
“No! Did something happen to it?” she asked worriedly.
I filled her in on the events of the day before, from Mrs. Fields giving Jackie’s dress to a total stranger to Jackie’s reaction.
“I know it’s not just a dress, and I can’t help but wonder if the two events are connected somehow,” I confessed.
“Jacob, it’s been a year now. You really think that whoever poisoned Jackie did it intentionally, and then, an entire year later, stole her dress?” She seemed skeptical, her brow raising at me.
“I’m just saying that I think it’s strange and I wouldn’t rule anything out.”
“I think it’s a bit of a stretch. But nonetheless, I don’t understand why anyone would do that,” she replied.
“Well, there was no helpful evidence last year besides the apple itself, and Jackie doesn’t want to bother the police with a missing wedding dress. She says they have more important things to do. So, there’s nothing to be done at this point other than keeping an eye on everything else.”
“It’s just a couple days away. I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Ruth said, but there was a thoughtful look on her face.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing, spill it,” I demanded.
“Well, have you considered that someone might be stalking her? Or you, for that matter?” she asked.
“Why would anyone stalk me?”
“You’ve rejected half the female population at this hospital,” she said.
“Oh, come on.” I waved my hand at her. “Now that’s a stretch.”
“I’m serious though. I saw on that show Hindsight one time, where a lady was stalked by her boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend, and she did weird stuff, like let the air out of her tires and rearranged things in her house when she wasn’t home. She wanted to mess with them, without getting too violent, or attacking anyone directly. She was a real basket case. But smart.” Ruth loved watching crime television, and always had an obscure, criminal reference for just about any occasion.
“I don’t have any crazy ex-girlfriends,” I said.
“Does she have any?” Ruth asked.
“Not that she’s told me about. Besides,let’s say your insane theory is feasible… that doesn’t explain the apple. That happened before I ever met Jackie. So it wouldn’t be someone who knew us together. It would be someone who knew her and not me.”
“Maybe. But maybe not,” Ruth said. “I’m just saying, if any other weird stuff starts to happen, especially this close to the wedding day, I’d rethink it.”
Shortly after, we had some patients to check on, and went about our business. I deliberated on what Ruth said though, and decided I’d take the rings home. I’d been keeping them in my locker at the hospital for safe-keeping but now, with the disappearance of the dress, I didn’t want to take any chances of something happening to them.
At the end of my shift the following morning, I went to my locker and grabbed my stuff, shoving the box with the wedding rings into my pocket. I headed back to our place, unable to shake the looming feeling we weren’t quite done with wedding day crises.
5
Jaqueline
The day before the wedding arrived in the blink of an eye. My friend Ella, who was also my only employee, came in to help Aunt Lydia and I make flower arrangements. I was working on my bouquet, which was a mix of the champagne roses. This particular breed of flower signified tenderness. I found that so appropriate since Jacob's tender nature calmed me through my brief coma, and the sandy pink color reminded me of something vintage. They were also known as Quicksand Cream Roses, but I always called them champagne, because it sounded so much more romantic. For greenery, I wrapped eucalyptus leaves around the outside of the stems.
Aunt Lydia wanted me to include more color, but I felt like the roses were the star of the show. It also created a simple and clean bouquet, which I adored. I’d had plenty of practice over the years I’d created arrangements for brides, where they wanted massive color. It was striking, but it didn’t fit me. For the tables at the reception, I had chosen white peonies, along with the roses, and for a pop of color, I incorporated burgundy roses. I’d read somewhere once that burgundy roses symbolized deep passion, readiness for a commitment, and unconscious beauty. All of those things pretty much summed up Jacob and me.
We hadn’t had any more issues or traumas, no emergencies of any kind and I was beginning to think the dress situation was just a terrible coincidence. As I hummed to myself while I worked, my phone rang, and I saw Jacob's name pop up on the screen.
"Hey, babe," I said, nestling the phone between my chin and shoulder.