Dream Girls: Nicole

Dream Girls: Nicole Chapter 1

Piper was absolutely beautiful. She had made her wedding dress herself. It was white and flowed with ease down her body. The top was a bodice and had three-quarter length lace sleeves. The torso was fitted, and there were miles of lace layered all the way down to her feet. Every other layer was made of bright red lace. It was a very cool dress, and I knew if she put something like it in her store, it would sell out quickly. She was so unique and creative.

I couldn't help but tear up when Moye and Piper said their vows. I knew how much it meant to them. I didn't think to bring a tissue, but luckily Steph had thought of everything. Apparently, she had a full box stuffed somewhere in her dress because she kept handing me a new one every time I sniffed.

I didn't have to worry if I was making a scene, as Steph had that covered; she openly cried through the entire ceremony. None of us held it against her though. We knew it was her hormones. She'd changed so much in the last few months of her pregnancy. It was cool to watch, but it made me realize how far I was from that place. I was just getting started in medical school, as my friends were starting careers and families. I wasn't sad about it, but it sort of made me feel like we didn't have as much in common anymore.

When the reception was in full swing, I took the opportunity to dance with my dad. I knew he didn't really want to, but he wouldn't turn me down if I asked him. I took advantage of our surroundings, knowing it would be a long time before we had the chance again.

"Daddy, you're not half bad at this." He held me tight, making me feel safe in his arms.

"I did manage to learn a few things from your mother."

"Maybe a few," I agreed, laying my head on his shoulder. "I miss her."

I didn't know why, but I only had good memories of her. It was difficult for me to remember her angry or in a bad mood. And that made me miss her even more.

"I do too, sweetheart."

"How are the boys? They aren't giving you any grief, are they?" I asked, raising my head. I didn't want him somber, thinking about my mom, so a change in subject was a must.

"No, and they better not. I'm too old to be dealing with bad kids."

"Dad, you are not too old."

"Yeah, tell that to my aching bones."

I glanced around the dance floor, looking for my brothers. I wanted to dance with them too. I found Jeremy talking to Corey in the corner. My dad followed my gaze until he landed on them.

"I don't care for that guy," he said.

"Who?"

"The man who stares at you like he owns you."

"Corey?"

He grunted in reply.

"He's cool. In fact, he's really looked out for me since we've been in Dallas." I wasn't sure why, but I felt defensive of Corey. I understood him when many people didn't, and the way my dad had already judged him didn't sit well with me. I was able to see past his rough exterior. Some of the moments we'd shared here and there made me realize that things weren't always what they seemed. Just like my dad had, people rushed to only see the façade. The defense mechanism he'd perfected over the years. Keeping people at arm's length gave him the power. He chose the when, where, and who. Growing up without any choices had left him feeling like he had to take on the world. And he was better off going at it alone, or so he thought. I saw further than his one word responses or the anger that boiled to the surface more often than not, and it made me feel like my dad was being like everyone else, by having an opinion about Corey without knowing the sweet, protective side to his personality.