Have Gown, Need Groom. Rita Herron

Mimi finished with a mischievous laugh.

      Hannah leapt from the champagne-sticky sofa, gathering up the empty wine and champagne bottles. Punch cups, wineglasses and leftover hors d’oeuvres covered her clawfoot table, scraps of wrapping paper littered her Queen Anne chair and cake crumbs clung to the plush velvet of her Victorian sofa.

      “You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy the guy’s moves, Hannah?” A note of pure horror darkened Mimi’s husky voice as she poured herself more champagne.

      “He was pretty buff.” Alison’s cheeks flushed to a rosy glow, but her gleaming brown eyes reflected the devil brewing in her thoughts. “Getting married doesn’t mean you’re dead. Lighten up.” Alison snatched the stripper’s thong from the chandelier. “Want to keep this as a memento of your last night as a free woman?”

      “You could handcuff Seth to the bed on your honeymoon,” Mimi suggested wickedly as she played with the present she’d given her sister.

      “You’re both hopeless.” Hannah pointed a manicured nail as she spoke. “You will drool after anything in pants, Mimi. And you, Alison Hartwell, are still in college. You’re way too young to be thinking such naughty thoughts.”

      Mimi shook her long auburn hair free from its jade clasp, running her fingers through the unruly mass of curls. “Are you worried boring old Seth won’t be able to get you excited like that guy did tonight?”

      “You know sex is a very important part of marriage,” Alison added.

      “And if Seth isn’t satisfying you—”

      “I never said Seth didn’t satisfy me!” Hannah howled, wondering if she should admit to her sexless life with her fiancé.

      No, her relationship with Seth was perfect. She did not want excitement.

      Before she could elaborate, the doorbell rang. “Please, pleeease don’t let that be Seth.” Hannah yanked the condom balloons from the ceiling then struggled to put them in the closet. “Hurry, help me hide all this stuff!”

      Alison slid the handcuffs under the sofa cushion while Mimi sauntered to the door and opened it. A tired-looking trucker dressed in grubby coveralls towered over Mimi’s petite five-two. His name tag read Mountain Trucking. Hannah sighed in relief.

      “I have a special delivery here from Rose Hartwell,” he said in a mountain drawl. “Would have been here sooner, but my truck broke down.”

      An almost reverent silence descended upon the room, obliterating the party atmosphere. At seventy, Grandmother Rose was the matriarch of the Hartwell clan. For years after the girls’ mother had deserted them, Grammy had jumped in to help fill the parental shoes. The girls loved her dearly.

      “One of you Miss Hartwell?” The trucker’s gaze landed on the remainder of the decadent cake shaped like a man’s body part, and his gray eyebrows shot upward.

      “Yes.” Hannah and her sisters nodded in unison. Alison signed the delivery slip, stepping aside as the man pushed a big box inside. He left with a chuckle.

      “I bet it’s the hope chest Mom told me about,” Mimi said. “The grandmother of the Hartwell family traditionally passes on a hope chest to each of her granddaughters before she marries.”

      Hannah bristled at the reminder of their mother. She’d finally broken down and invited her mom to the wedding, hoping for a reconciliation, but she had declined, only cementing the wall between them with another foot of concrete—and the realization that her mother hadn’t wanted her. Forcing herself to forget the familiar hurt, she studied the package. Her grandmother tended to be eccentric. What would she have put in the chest? Nothing alive, she hoped…

      “Hurry, open it,” Alison said.

      Hannah took a deep breath and tore the wrapping, then opened the box, gasping in delight. A beautiful gold embossed chest sat inside. “It’s exquisite.”

      “The chests are supposed to be replicas of the one our great-great-great grandmother brought over from England,” Mimi explained.

      Hannah ran her finger along the ornate decorative carving. “This chest will look perfect at the foot of my bed.”

      “I can’t wait to see what Grammy enclosed,” Alison shrieked.

      Her hands trembling with excitement, Hannah slowly opened the chest and lifted a sheet of pale yellow stationery.

      My dearest, loving, Hannah,

      You are a very special granddaughter because you were the first miracle in the Hartwell family. You represented love and hope.

      But you are the one who remembers the problems; the one old enough to realize that when your mother walked away she wasn’t coming back. And with your own little heart bleeding, you were the one to square your shoulders, console your heartbroken father and nurture your little sisters. And you never complained. You showed us strength when we thought we had none left.

      You are studious and smart, dependable and responsible, but cautious to a fault. Don’t forget how to dream, my dear Hannah. Learn to take chances, laugh and have fun. I wish for you happiness, true love and a man who will give you all the joy a partner can.

      Love you always,

       Grammy Rose

      P.S. Inside you should find something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.

      Hannah wiped tears from her cheeks as she laid the letter aside and gently lifted a porcelain bride doll from the chest. Something new—a new doll for her collection.

      Memories of her ninth birthday surfaced, bombarding her with emotions. She’d collected dolls as a child and had received a beautiful storybook Sleeping Beauty for her birthday. But the celebration had been ruined when her mother decided she couldn’t hack married life any more. All of Hannah’s silly childhood dreams had disintegrated when her mother had left, closing the door behind her. Hannah had packed away all her dolls and hadn’t touched them since; didn’t her grandmother remember?

      Swallowing back the painful emotions, she searched the hope chest, surprised when her fingers brushed something hard. A plain brown rock, slightly jagged in shape, was wrapped in the hem of the doll’s lacy dress. It toppled into her hands, along with a note. “‘Don’t let the man you marry weigh you down,’” she read aloud. “Why on earth would Grammy write something like that to me?”

      “Maybe she thinks Seth is too much of a drag,” Mimi joked.

      “Very funny. Seth is a pillar of the community. He’s the most solid, stable man I know, something this family needs more of.” Hannah unwrapped the tissue paper covering her next surprise. “Oh, my goodness, it’s Grammy’s bridal gown. It’s beautiful.”

      “Something borrowed,” Mimi murmured as they all admired the lacy dress.

      Tiny pearls formed a border along the edge, the lace billowing out in sheer white folds. The neckline curved and slipped off the shoulders for a dramatic effect. Hannah pictured her grandmother wearing the gown at her own wedding, and a warm feeling washed over her. “This is so sweet, but didn’t Grammy realize I already have a wedding dress?”

      Mimi laughed. “Grammy must be getting senile.”

      “What should I do?” Hannah asked. “Seth helped pick out my dress.”

      “Wear it and save this one for your own daughter some day.”

      Hannah nodded and removed a pale blue garter from the chest. The girls laughed as she slipped the lacy garment over her thigh.

      “Now, something old,” Mimi said. Hannah’s breath caught at the last item—a velvet ring box. She and her sisters exchanged animated smiles.

      “I wonder if it’s the ring,” Mimi said.

      “What ring?” Alison asked.

      “The