Finding Jordan

Chapter 8

The chapel was elegant, nothing like what I was expecting to find in the gambling capital of the nation. The woman at the counter introduced me to Amelia, who would also be my bridesmaid. Designed to be a "friend in need," she was more like a personal shopper, trying to upsize us on bouquet, rings, clothing rentals, pretty much everything we looked at. After we chose the package that was just right for us, she shooed Jordan off with, Mark, his "best man" to get dressed. Just before they left me, Jordan FaceTimed his mom and sisters, each in turn. His mom was a crying mess but happily welcomed me to the family. I could tell his oldest sister was shocked, but they were all so happy, surprised and excited with us. I knew my mom would flip out if I called. It would be better to tell her, and my dad, later. I was sad I didn't have siblings to tell and then I realized as soon as I said "I do," I would. I hoped the kindness his sisters had shown me already only grew over time. After the calls were made, we kissed, and he walked to one dressing room, I walked to another. He looked back and winked at me with a shake of his head, he was as flabbergasted at what we were doing as I was, but neither of us would stop it. We both knew what we wanted. Our thirties were screaming at us; it was now or never. We had nothing to lose. I loved him; I needed a home. He needed someone loyal to him over everyone else. Who better than me? The girl who had never loved a man? We were meant to be.

Amelia took me to a room stuffed to the seams with wedding dresses of all sizes, shapes and styles and asked me what I imagined getting married in. In my wedding dreams, and I had had several in the last few years, my dress was always long and flowing with a tight bodice. I liked the tone of white that didn't wash my Asian skin out. I loved the lacy ones. If it didn't have lace, it didn't count as a dress. By the time I squeezed in to the second dress, the butterflies were fluttering all up inside me. I was getting married! Married! My mom was going to flip out. Misty and Scarlet were going to flip. Hank was going to flip. I was flipping out. I pulled out my phone and group texted the two girls as quickly as I could:

We're getting married in Vegas NOW!!!!!!

Did I have doubts? Yes, I barely knew him. I felt like I knew everything about him—his life, his family, his dreams and ambitions, his history. Admittedly part of that, the rebound part, I had just learned; there was probably more than that, but I knew him. And I didn't. It didn't count that he'd been in my dreams for almost five years. Actual talk time was less than six months. He was amazing. He came to find me in Vegas, so I wouldn't be alone. He helped rebuild cities in developing countries. He was still too good to be true, and so I knew there were things I didn't understand about him. I hadn't had enough time with him to find a single quirk that annoyed me, except for always wearing that old hat and the way he'd let his truck fill up with old coffee cups. Other than some little things, all I could see were his perfections: his rock hard abs when he swung a two-by-four up on his shoulder, his smile that melted me, and those beautiful eyes. But I convinced myself there couldn't be anything seriously wrong with him—he went to his little cousin's baseball games, for crying out loud! I was going to do it! It was the wildest, craziest, stupidest thing I had ever done in my life . . . and I'd done a lot of crazy!

Amelia clasped her hands together under her chin and ooohed and ahhhed at me as I spun myself around in between the three-way mirrors, then quickly whisked me to another room, complete with make-up chair. Amelia was also a stylist. She draped a cape over the dress and with lightning speed and artistic finesse covered my face with the right amount of make-up to accentuate the positives but not make me feel overdone. She asked if I wanted my hair up or down and I realized I didn't even know which way Jordan liked it.

"Um, I don't know,"

"Wanna ask your guy, hon?"

"Yeah, my phone . . ." I pointed to the padded bench where I left it.