"Donna!" Joan waves as soon as I step into the bridal shop.
I make my way over to her and greet her with a hug. It's her last fitting before the wedding, and I'm trying on my bridesmaid dress as well. It's just the two of us today, in for a quick appointment before we head off to meet her hairdresser for a run through. All in all, it should be a fun morning.
And, quite frankly, I need to get out of the house. Chad moved his stuff out several weeks ago and I've quickly adjusted to single life. I'm by no means out on the town all the time, but it's nice to live by my own rules. There are a lot more nights eating cereal in my pajamas on the couch than there used to be. It's been nice to get to know me again.
I bring my attention back to the present when Joan's name is called and we're walked to the alterations department. I go first, slipping into the dress in the garment bag draped over my arm so someone can quickly hem the bottom while they pull Joan's gown for her.
I pull back the curtain to the dressing room and step onto the raised platform so the seamstress can pin my hem and Joan lets out a cat call. A few of the other women in the area turn their heads at our antics, but most of them just laugh and go back to what they're doing.
"Look at you, heartbreaker!" Joan doesn't ease up. Part of it is probably because she knows I can use the confidence boost after Chad, but really that's just the type of loud personality that she has.
"You really picked gorgeous dresses," I tell her as I look down and lightly smooth the silk over my torso, grateful that I'm not currently sporting a taffeta nightmare. They're well constructed black gowns with spaghetti straps and a deep V neckline. It's certainly nothing obscene, but they do highlight some of the bridesmaids finer assets.
When the dress is pinned, I change back into my normal clothes and wait in a small armchair for Joan to get into her gown. I ooh and ahhh as soon as she steps out. She looks phenomenal.
"Sam's going to lose his mind when he sees you," I grin, standing to walk over to her. I've seen the dress before, I was there when she purchased it. But that was several months ago and now it's been fitted to her and customized with the tiny adjustments she requested.
"Do you think so?" She asks me hopefully.
Joan is easily one of the most gorgeous people I know, but she's incredibly humble about it.
"I thought I'd wear my hair mostly down," she continues, pinning back her loose auburn curls with her hands trying to get the full effect. "And with the veil I ordered."
The top of her dress is similar in cut to the bridesmaid dress I'll be wearing, but it 's adorned with various beads to create an understated pattern, and it flares out with layers of billowing silk at the waist.
"I'm glad you went with this one," I tell her. "It suits you."
Joan looks in the mirror and smiles in appreciation as the store attendant places a cathedral length veil into her hair and then gently arranges it around her.
Joan thanks the woman and tells her this is exactly what she'd been looking for. Though the two of us spend a lot of time together, we rarely see each other in anything other than scrubs or lounge wear. Aside from the scarring on her neck that is faded but still visible when her hair is pulled back, I tend to forget about the large portion of her body that is badly burned, and that she's often dependent on a steroid inhaler to breathe. She told me once that it happened as the result of a house fire when she was little, and that she spent a significant amount of time recovering from her injuries when she was a child. Though she doesn't dwell on the long term effects, I know that she has several underlying health conditions.
She told me the fire was a completely random accident, the result of a malfunctioning popcorn maker, but it became the reason she wanted to be a doctor. She doesn't mention it much, but there was a little girl in the burn unit a few months ago and Joan made a point of visiting her every day. After the girl was discharged, she never mentioned it again.
She stands confidently and looks at herself in the mirror for a few moments before she changes back into the long sleeve shift dress she wore to the store. We head out, strolling through Georgetown to a little brunch spot we like to frequent. Once we're settled on the patio, mimosas in hand, we toast her pending nuptials with a clink and a unison "2 weeks" and settle in to our fast paced conversation about a wide variety of topics.
"When does the family arrive I ask?"
"My mom and Sam's mom fly in next Saturday and they'll be here all week. Sam's dad doesn't get in until Thursday."
"So, they're both staying with you?" I raise my eyebrow at her.
"No. God, no." Joan says with a laugh. "Sam's mom is staying in our guest room, which is fine. She's pretty easy to deal with. And my mom is staying with Josh. I'm not sure how well that's going to go."
"What do you mean?"
"They just don't always see eye to eye. Mom wants him to settle down and raise a family. Take over dad's place at the firm and live in Connecticut. That kind of thing. And Josh wants no part of that, so he doesn't appreciate the constant nagging."
"Does she say that to you?"
"To a degree, I suppose," Joan admits. "But the difference is that I have a career that she understands and I've always had a social life. Now I'm marrying Sam and she sees me settling down. Josh, on the other hand, has no balance. He works. Nonstop. He forgets to eat, he wears the same suit for days and it literally takes months for him to return a phone call if he doesn't need anything from you. Rather than moving closer to what my mom sees as a stable life, he's running in the opposite direction. And tact isn't exactly his strong suit, so the confrontation just makes her bristle all the more."
"Well, that isn't exactly hard to imagine," I laugh softly. "But if he's happy, what's the problem?"
"She doesn't understand how he can be, and honestly I'm not sure if, deep down inside, he really is or not." Joan tries to explain. "You have to get Josh."
"And?"
"And I don't," Joan admits. "Neither does she. And we all love each other and there's no like, family drama or anything, but he's a complex guy. I'm not sure if she or I will ever understand him, but Dad always did."
I shrug my shoulders. I don't know Josh well enough to say with any degree of certainty whether or not this will be a disaster, but from what I do know about him, it's not going to be a walk in the park. The few times I've met Sarah Lyman she's been welcoming and generous, but she's also very particular. She's organized and methodical and always impeccably dressed. Let's just say it's a harsh contrast from the man I scrubbed jelly donut off of a few weeks ago.
We continue to chat when a peculiar woman I've never met before approaches our table.
"Margaret! Hi!" Joan stands up and greets the woman with a warm hug, which obviously throws the red head off a bit.
"Hi Joan. I just wanted to say that I wish you the best next weekend and that I've personally assigned myself to the task of making sure that Josh and Leo arrive on time. Let me know if you'll be needing anything else in the coming days. My office can get things done when need be." The woman has an intensity to the gaze she's giving Joan.
"Well thank you, Margaret." Joan answers. "That's very nice of you. We're looking forward to having you at the wedding. Give my love to Leo."
With that the woman exits quickly and I turn my gaze back to Joan. "And that would be…?"
"Margaret Hooper." she explains. "Leo McGarry's assistant for the last 10 years and the only hope that my brother will be even remotely on time for the wedding."
"And Leo is Mallory's father," I confirm, trying to connect the dots to the other bridesmaids. "And he's Josh and Sam's boss." There's no doubt the Lyman's are well connected.
"Right. He was my father's best friend, which is how I became so close to Mallory. And since Dad died Leo has really made sure he's there for Mom and I. Josh too, but in a different way, I suppose.
"What do you mean?"
"It has always been more of a tough love situation, which is exactly what Josh needs most of the time, but… I don't know. Leo's there for Josh if he needs him, but he's his boss too. I guess it kind of adds to that lack of balance we were talking about earlier."
"I could see that," I admit. "And I'm sure the job is demanding. But Sam doesn't live at the office, does he?"
"Well, sometimes," Joan admits. "But he only stays when he needs to. Our jobs are demanding too so I understand where he's coming from. And I know if he can come home he will. Josh on the other hand? He has nothing to go home to, so he stays at work."
"He doesn't date?"
"Only the occasional shrill woman who uses him to get ahead in politics, so that doesn't take much of his time."
"Well that must be a disappointment," I smirk, "to all the members of his fan club."