Dreaming in Technicolor by Laura Jensen Walker Read Free Book Online Page B

Lindsey parroted Julia Roberts in Steel Magnolias . (After hanging out with me for a while, my friends are starting to spout movie lines like I do.) “Of course, it also depends on what time of year we choose, what the setting will be, whether it’s a morning or evening wedding . . .”
    I could just see her furrowing her brow across the miles.
    â€œI’m thinking if it’s evening I might go with silver and white and splashes of fuschia. Or maybe very sophisticated, black and white all the way, with just a hint of red? What do you think?”
    â€œEither works for me. As long as you don’t put me in orange or yellow, I’m happy.” I bounded up from the couch, grabbed a bottled water from the fridge, and took a swig. “So, has Phillie agreed to sign the prenup?”
    Lindsey and I had come up with our own version of the celebrity prenuptial agreement—except ours had nothing to do with money. Our prenup included, among other stipulations, that our husbands must never say yes when asked, “Does this make me look fat?”; that they must only have eyes for us, no matter how many hard-bodied Baywatch babes parade into view; and that they must lovingly say “yes, dear” when we presented them with our multipage honey-do lists.
    â€œI haven’t brought that up yet,” Lindsey said. “Thought I’d better ease into it.”
    â€œGood plan. So you still haven’t told me how he proposed. What are best friends for if not to live vicariously through?”
    She expelled a romantic sigh. “Well, we had this wonderful dinner at that little French restaurant downtown . . .”
    â€œWhat’d you eat? You know me—I need every gastronomic detail.”
    â€œFor an appetizer we had baked brie with almonds, then for our main course I had coq au vin and Phil had rack of lamb. For dessert, delicious crème brûlée. Then we went dancing for a little while, did the whole midnight-kiss thing . . .” her voice trailed off.
    â€œSave the kiss memories for later,” my lonely, kissless self ordered. “I want the proposal. Setting and words, please.”
    Lindsey released another romantic sigh. “We drove along the lake, and he pulled into this quiet spot and wanted to get out. Well, you know what Cleveland weather is like in December. I wasn’t about to get out of the car! But he pleaded, said it would only take a minute. By this time I had an inkling, so I agreed.” She took a breath. “It was a gorgeous crisp night; the stars were out, and the lights were shimmering on the water. Phil led me over to this little bench—he put a blanket on it first.” She sighed again. “Very chivalrous.”
    I sighed right along with her.
    â€œHe sat beside me, looked in my eyes, and told me he loved my goofiness, my relationship with God, the dimple in my left cheek when I laugh, the way I move my food around my plate in circles when I get nervous, even my shopaholic tendencies.” She giggled.
    â€œThen he knelt down in the snow, pulled out this gorgeous vintage diamond-and-emerald ring, and proposed. Said he wanted to start the New Year with me as his fiancée and knowing that before the year was over, I’d be Mrs. Phil Hansen.”
    â€œVery When Harry Met Sally . Who knew Phillie was such a romantic?”
    â€œI know !” Lindsey said in her Monica-from- Friends voice.
    â€œYou’ll get married at First Pres, right?”
    â€œOf course. We’re going to ask Pastor John to marry us.”
    â€œHow many bridesmaids are you going to have?” I stretched back out on the couch. “And who?”
    â€œI don’t know yet.” She wailed, “Why’d you have to go and move all the way to California? I wanted to go through all this bride stuff with you—looking for a dress, checking out reception sites, choosing a D.J., deciding on favors—you know I don’t want