#golfe juan
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thunderstruck9 · 2 years ago
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Raoul Dufy (French, 1877-1953), Fenêtre ouverte à Golfe-Juan [Open window at Golfe-Juan], c.1925. Gouache and watercolour on paper, 65.4 x 50.2 cm.
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stigmatam4rtyr · 1 year ago
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Golfe Juan (1896, oil on canvas) | Paul Signac
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schumi-nadal · 3 months ago
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Juan Carlos Ferrero, Carlos Alcaraz, Casper Ruud & Joachim Bjerke
Enjoying some golf before another Grand Slam ⛳️🏆
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retrogeographie · 1 month ago
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Vallauris, quartier de Golf-Juan, la résidence des Jasmins.
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cosmonautroger · 7 months ago
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Raoul Dufy, Fenêtre sur Golfe-Juan, 1926
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francebonapartiste · 8 months ago
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1er mars 1815 : Napoléon débarque à Golfe-Juan, c'est le début des Cent-Jours
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Le 1er mars 1815, un événement historique majeur se produit lorsque Napoléon Bonaparte débarque à Golfe-Juan, marquant ainsi le début d’une période connue sous le nom des Cent-Jours. Ce jour-là, une petite flottille apparait au large des côtes françaises, mettant fin à la période d��exil de Napoléon sur l’île d’Elbe. Parti de l’île d’Elbe le 26 février, Napoléon est à bord de l’Inconstant, accompagné de six autres navires. Avec lui se trouvent ses proches et environ mille soldats de sa garde.
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Aux côtés de l’Empereur se trouvaient les hommes qui formaient en quelque sorte son gouvernement sur l’île d’Elbe : le général Bertrand, chargé des affaires intérieures et l’un de ses plus proches conseillers, le général Drouot, assumant le rôle de ministre de la Guerre, et Peyrusse, trésorier de la Couronne. Se trouvaient également le général Cambronne, le Dr Fourreau de Beauregard mais aussi Pons de l’Hérault, ainsi que son personnel, incluant Marchand, son premier valet de chambre, et Saint-Denis, surnommé “le mamelouk Ali”.
Pendant la traversée, Napoléon s’était retiré dans sa cabine, plongeant dans l’élaboration des proclamations qui marqueraient son retour. Ces missives, soigneusement préparées à l’avance, étaient destinées à être distribuées dès son arrivée, toutes deux datées du 1er mars, jour symbolique de son débarquement et du renouveau.
Dans son discours adressé au peuple français, il justifiait son retour en expliquant les circonstances de son départ en 1814, attribuant son échec à la trahison des maréchaux Augereau et Marmont.
Aux soldats, il dévoile les voies de la gloire et prononce les paroles qui deviendront emblématiques :
“La victoire avancera au pas de charge. L’Aigle, arborant fièrement les couleurs nationales, planera de clocher en clocher jusqu’aux tours de Notre-Dame.”
Après trois jours de navigation, la flottille arrive enfin au mouillage dans l’anse du golfe Juan. Napoléon, arborant fièrement le drapeau tricolore français, décide de procéder au débarquement. Une escouade de grenadiers est envoyée en reconnaissance pour s’assurer que les côtes sont sûres. La côte est en effet sans défense, aucune batterie côtière n’étant présente à cet endroit, démontrant ainsi que les autorités n’ont à aucun moment envisagé que Napoléon tenterait un débarquement dans le sud de la France.
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Le lendemain matin, Napoléon consulte une carte pour planifier la suite de son itinéraire vers Grenoble. Il décide de suivre la route des Alpes plutôt que de traverser la vallée du Rhône, où il a été conspué l’année précédente en se rendant à l’île d’Elbe. La troupe se remet en marche, avec Napoléon montant à cheval et ses hommes à pied.
Au cours de la journée, des contacts sont établis avec les autorités locales et la population. Certains habitants manifestent leur soutien à Napoléon en illuminant leurs maisons et en criant “Vive l’Empereur”, tandis que d’autres observent son passage avec une certaine indifférence.
Après avoir stationné quelques heures à Cannes, Napoléon repart à l’aube en direction de Grasse. Ainsi se clôt, sur le littoral français, la première étape de ce que l’on appellera plus tard le “vol de l’Aigle”, un périple qui devait mener l’Empereur jusqu’à Paris en vingt jours.
***
On March 1st, 1815, a major historical event occurred when Napoleon Bonaparte landed at Golfe-Juan, marking the beginning of a period known as the Hundred Days. That day, a small flotilla appeared off the French coast, ending Napoleon's exile on the island of Elba. Departing from Elba on February 26th, Napoleon was aboard the Inconstant, accompanied by six other ships, along with his close associates and about a thousand soldiers from his guard.
Alongside the Emperor were the men who formed his government on the island of Elba: General Bertrand, in charge of internal affairs and one of his closest advisors; General Drouot, serving as Minister of War; and Peyrusse, the Crown Treasurer. Also present were General Cambronne, Dr. Fourreau de Beauregard, as well as Pons de l'Hérault, along with his staff, including Marchand, his head valet, and Saint-Denis, nicknamed "the Mameluke Ali."
During the crossing, Napoleon retreated to his cabin, immersed in drafting proclamations that would mark his return. These carefully prepared messages were intended to be distributed upon his arrival, both dated March 1st, the symbolic day of his landing and renewal.
In his address to the French people, he justified his return by explaining the circumstances of his departure in 1814, attributing his failure to the betrayal of marshals Augereau and Marmont. To the soldiers, he unveiled the paths to glory and uttered words that would become iconic: "Victory will advance at a quick pace. The Eagle, proudly displaying the national colors, will soar from steeple to steeple to the towers of Notre-Dame."
After three days of sailing, the flotilla finally anchored in the bay of Golfe-Juan. Napoleon, proudly displaying the French tricolor flag, decided to proceed with the landing. A squad of grenadiers was sent out for reconnaissance to ensure the coast was secure. Indeed, the coast was undefended, with no coastal battery present, demonstrating that the authorities had never considered Napoleon attempting a landing in southern France.
The next morning, Napoleon consulted a map to plan the rest of his route to Grenoble. He chose to follow the Alpine route rather than crossing the Rhône Valley, where he had been reviled the previous year on his way to Elba. The troop resumed their march, with Napoleon riding on horseback and his men on foot.
Throughout the day, contacts were made with local authorities and the population. Some residents showed their support for Napoleon by lighting up their homes and shouting "Long live the Emperor," while others watched his passage with indifference.
After spending a few hours in Cannes, Napoleon set off again at dawn towards Grasse. Thus ended, on the French coast, the first stage of what would later be called the "Flight of the Eagle," a journey that would lead the Emperor to Paris in twenty days.
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postcard-from-the-past · 4 months ago
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Grand Hotel de la Plage in Golfe-Juan, Côte d'Azur region of France
French vintage postcard
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vizuart · 2 years ago
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sinfried · 2 years ago
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Opa will ans Meer, Côte d'Azur (FR)
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Console Sports Games of 1993 - Chi Chi's Pro Challenge Golf
Chi Chi's Pro Challenge Golf is the US release of Top Pro Golf 2, a Coconuts Japan Entertainment developed golf game and the final entry in the series. while the Japanese version of the game has a generic cover the US release of the game is fronted by Puerto Rican golfer Juan Antonio "Chi-Chi" Rodríguez. 
Chi Chi's Pro Challenge Golf released in the US in March of 1993 exclusively for the Genesis. The Japanese release of the game under the Top Pro Golf 2 title would release a few months later in June of 1993, again exclusive to the Genesis. 
1. Intro 00:00 
2. Gameplay 00:15 
3. Outro 09:34 
Twitter (Gaming & AI Art) 
https://twitter.com/zero2zedGaming
Instagram (AI Art) 
https://www.instagram.com/random_art_ai/
For more sports game videos check out the playlists below 
Console Sports Games of 1993 
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CEhIf6hohng9T2IPLCpzn7o
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lemuseum · 2 years ago
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thunderstruck9 · 1 year ago
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Raoul Dufy (French, 1877-1953), Oliviers à Golfe-Juan [Oilive Trees, Golfe-Juan], c.1923. Watercolour on paper, 49 x 63 cm.
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ejcmedia · 2 years ago
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Vallauris: les élus locaux s’opposent à un projet de ferme aquacole à Golfe-Juan
Le projet de ferme aquacole de la société Aquafrais Cannes ne convient pas aux élus locaux. Ils font front commun à l’occasion de l’enquête publique à ce sujet qui se terminera le 22 février. Le maire de Vallauris Kevin Luciano (LR), la députée européenne Caroline Roose (EELV) et le sénateur Philippe Tabarot (LR) aux côtés d’habitants et d’associations ont rappelé leur opposition au projet de…
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wazili · 6 days ago
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French royalist newspaper progressively freaking out as Napoleon gets closer to Paris
So I don't know if it is a true story but it is hilarious. In his Impressions de Voyage, Alexandre Dumas (who also wrote The Three Musketeers and The Count of Monte Cristo) recolls reading a few years ago the royalist (and so) anti-Napoleon newspaper Le Moniteur. Every day, he notes the changing tone of headlines as Napoleon, who fled from the island of Elba, approaches Paris :
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The cannibal left his lair
The Corsican Ogre has just reached Golfe-Juan
The tiger has arrived at Gap
The monster spent the night in Grenoble
The tyrant has crossed Lyon
The usurper was seen sixty leagues from the capital
Bonaparte is advancing at great strides but will never enter Paris
Napoleon will be under our ramparts tomorrow
The Emperor arrived at Fontainebleau
His Imperial and Royal Majesty arrived yesterday in his Tuileries castle among his loyal subjects
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las-microfisuras · 5 months ago
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Nusch Éluard, Golfe Juan, France 1937
Lee Miller
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wardenparker · 6 months ago
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Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 14
Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
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After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.
Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 9.2k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Nothing, really. Some conversations about money and clothing but this chapter is fairly smooth sailing. Summary: The wedding planning begins in earnest! Notes: For anyone following along on the chronic pain escapades, this coming week is surgery week! Hopefully this will be the last mountain to climb in the way of handling the issues at hand and we'll have just a little bit of time with smoother sailing.
Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13
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Planning a lunch for the day after the engagement party was very intentional, not wanting people to be short of sleep or hungover after celebrating the night before. What your mother has planned in as casual a manner as possible is a lunch for family and friends in the White House residence to help start the planning of your wedding. It’s favorite foods and enjoying yourselves. At least, that is the plan.
It’s noon on the dot when you and Agent Sisson walk into the Blue Room, and he happily leaves you to your lunch party. Agent Bailey has a much-deserved day off today and your secondary detail is just fine with leaving you to be guarded by the standing White House detail.
“Birdie, your party last night was magnificent.” Your mother rises quickly and moves to hug you. She had enjoyed the relaxed and festive atmosphere.
“I’m glad you had fun, Mom.” The hug is tight and short, but you squeeze each other before letting go. “We thought it went really well, too. The caterers were incredible.”
“They were.” She agrees. “Now, Marcus’s parents should be here any moment. Your father has already talked Matthew into a round of golf after lunch.” She huffs in amusement.
"Of course he did." That doesn't surprise you in the least, but you are glad to see that your father and Matthew Pike are getting along. When the Pikes had come to visit over the summer the two fathers had gotten on like gangbusters and it's continuing. "Sydney should be here soon, too. Juan is taking the baby to his mother's today for some bonding time." Looking around, there is no sign of your sister despite the table being set for the full party. 'Where's Junie?"
“She’s actually out.” Your mother tells you with a small smile. “She went out to breakfast with her new favorite person.” It’s absolutely wonderful how she has clicked with her soulmate and there is no way she would discourage that. “She gave up sleeping in to spend time with him.”
"Our little Junebug's in love." It stings a little that your baby sister won't be here for lunch and to talk about wedding things, but you definitely also understand the pull of wanting to be with your soulmate every possible moment.
“She is.” Your mother nods and touches your shoulder. “Much like you are. I expect her to come rushing in at the last minute, flustered from seeing him.”
"I guess Grammy's wedding dress is going to get a little bit of a workout." the idea makes you smile. Just the mere idea of it. Even if Junie decided she didn't want to wear the heirloom, it wouldn't truly matter. It's having the option that is meaningful.
“That is something that I wanted to talk to you about.” Your mother arches a brow delicately and smiles.
"What about?" You ask tentatively, desperately hoping she's not about to say that something has happened to it or that she doesn't want you to wear it for some odd reason.
“Well, I’ve been thinking about all of your weddings.” She admits. “I was thinking about offering Alex some of the train, if one of you wishes to remove it, in order to create a vest or something to be a part of his own wedding ensemble with he and David eventually marry. But I wanted to see what you and Junie think, since it will one day be held to pass down to your daughters.”
"Mom." Your eyes water immediately, one hand going to your chest, and you're nodding before you can even say anything else. "I think that might be the sweetest thing I've ever heard. I love it, and Junie will too, I just know it."
“And maybe it will become a tradition with David and Alex’s kids, if they decide to have some.” She is so grateful you like the idea.
"It actually works perfectly with an idea I had," you admit, but a sound from down the hall cuts you off and you grin when you recognize the commotion. "I'll tell everyone together. That's definitely Sydney and Selena that I hear."
“Oh my god, I’m in the White House!” Selena cannot even contain the squeal as the door opens to admit them. “I’m such a history nerd, I just can’t.”
"We'll finally get you on a full White House tour one of these days, I promise." Selena has been meaning to and meaning to book a place on a tour since she moved to DC, but she's been busy and just hasn't nailed down the time. You file the reminder away for yourself and in the meantime you throw your arms around both friends. "I'm so glad you guys are here, oh my god."
“Where else would we be?” Sydney scoffs. “A private invitation to the White House is being framed and hung up on my wall.”
"There's going to be a bunch of them over the next year." Your laugh is full of relief, though, and you usher them both into the room. "Selena, you met my mother last night, right?"
“To be honest, I was too nervous to approach her.” She admits with a rueful shake of her head, obviously a little intimidated by the President of the United States being your mother.
"She's an absolute nerd," you assure Selena with a laugh. You grab her hand and tug her toward the center of the Blue Room. "Mom, you can see Syd's baby pictures in just a second." It's so incredibly sweet that in the last two minutes your mother has clamored to see pictures of baby Constance, but you bring Selena forward with you and smother a laugh. "I want you to meet Selena Pike. She's one of Marcus's cousins and we got attached at the hip while I was in Dallas."
“It is a pleasure to meet you.” Your mother has several different smiles, but the one she gives Selena is a genuine, friendly smile that is reserved for family. “Don’t shake my hand.” She shakes her head when Selena offers a more formal greeting. “Family hugs.”
“Oh my god.” Selena breathes, in a way that makes it very clear that the full sentence is actually oh my god, I’m hugging the President, but she keeps her composure well enough and is beaming when she pulls back. “It’s such an honor,” she gushes, giddy and not caring to hide it.
“Well hopefully I won’t disappoint.” She gives Selena a wink and smiles as she practically vibrates.
“Absolutely not.” Selena assures her, certain that there won’t be any politics talked today beyond the invitation list. Today is about the wedding.
“While I know it will not be up to snuff with the amazing caterers that Birdie had last night, I hoped that having lunch would be an easy way to start things off.” Your mother informs them.
"I can't imagine your chef making anything less than stellar." Donna Pike strides into the room with a glowing smile, with your little sister by her side. "I'm so sorry. We got caught up for a minute. June was showing me something in the China Room."
June trails behind your future mother in law, beaming with the innocent hope to someone newly in love. “Sorry, I saw her at the gate and escorted her in.”
"Don't be sorry!" You sweep in and hug them both one at a time, glad to be able to squeeze the life out of your sister and see Donna happily smiling away. Everyone is here and today is meant to be relaxed and joyous.
“Our bride to be is looking radiant this morning.” Donna observes slyly. “Hopefully that means you have a clear plan on what you wish?”
"Marcus and I have talked through some of our early ideas," you pat your purse with pride. "I have a notebook dedicated to wedding planning and thought we could start talking things through over lunch."
“Very efficient.” Donna praises with an encouraging smile. “Now- let me go ahead and say that this is your show. What you want - goes.” She promises. “I will offer an opinion when you want one, but I would never want to be the kind of mother-in-law that views this as ‘her wedding’.”
"This is the White House's wedding." It isn't something that you regret or dread, though, and you turn to your mother with a smile. "And we're going to honor that as best we can, while still doing things our way."
“As long as you are happy with the results.” Your mother interjects. “Otherwise, that wouldn’t be fair.”
“Why don’t we all sit down and we can start talking?” You suggest, nodding to the table that has been set. “I don’t know about you guys but I slept late and didn’t eat breakfast this morning.”
“Yeah….slept.” Junie snorts with a knowing grin. “You and Markie couldn’t keep your hands off each other at the end of the night.”
“It was their engagement party,” Sydney reminds Junie, laughing her way to the table. There are place cards out with everyone’s names on them and little bud cases with a few flowers at each seat. “They’re allowed to be sickeningly cute. It comes with the territory.”
“I know.” She grins. “I’m happy for you, even if it’s eye-rollingly cliché.”
“Says the girl who basically came skipping into the room from spending the morning with her own soulmate.” You sit down at the table where your name is marked, delighted to have Syd on one side of you and Donna on the other. “You guys were sickeningly cute last night, too.”
She rolls her eyes and bites her lips for a moment before she sticks her tongue out at you.
"And on that note..." Like the big sister you are, you snicker playfully before turning your eyes across the table. "So Mom, what's for lunch?"
“Poached salmon with a lemon dill sauce, couscous and root vegetables .” Your mother hum. “Started off by a summer strawberry salad with candied pecans.”
There is a collective, happy groan from everyone at the table, and seconds later a member of the White House kitchen staff comes into the room with pitchers of water and iced tea for the table and another follows with the salad course. Dining in the White House is always a bit like a dance, and you love watching Selena's face as she experiences it for the very first time.
Junie looks towards you with a happy face as the salads are being brought in. “Have you decided to wear Grammie’s dress?”
"Starting with the big questions right away?" Well, you can't blame her for that. It will affect her, too, ultimately. "I have. I love Grammie's dress and I've dreamt about wearing it for years. But, Mom had an idea. And it would affect you, too."
“How would it affect me?” She asks curiously, picking up her fork and thanking the staff as they set a salad on her place setting.
"Mom had an idea to alter the dress," you explain as everyone starts to eat. "The train on Grammie's dress is long, and there is enough fabric there that...if we agreed we both wanted to...we could have a professional trim the skirt and use the fabric from the train to make a waistcoat for Alex for when he and David finally decide to get married."
“Oh that’s a wonderful idea!” Instantly in love with the sentiment, she nods eagerly. “I agree, completely.”
"I know we like different styles." The fact that she is on board with this immediately has both you and your mother beaming with bright smiles, and you sip your iced tea happily in between breaths. "But I like dresses a bit shorter than you do, and I'm taller. I bet if we had Grammie's dress taken up to be full-length on you, it would be about tea length on me."
She snorts slightly and nods. “You are taller than me, you giant.” She teases, shooting you a grin. “I love that idea. I know you’ve been mooning over a Jackie O style for a few weeks.”
“I do want to wear pearls,” you admit with a grin. Your cheeks warm with the slowly building hum of excitement that is actually starting to plan your wedding. “And Marcus and I talked about having a cake similar to the one the Kennedys had.”
“Typical.” She teases, falling in love with the idea immediately. “Do we know if the bakery that made the cake is still in operation? You would need a huge one. It could be another feather in their cap.”
“They are.” In fact, Marcus had looked it up within hours of having the thought and been nearly giddy to report it. “But they’re in Boston, so we would need to talk to them to see if they’re even able to do a cake for a DC wedding. If not, we thought we would just replicate the flavors as a nod to the original.”
Junie snorts and throws your mother a grin. “I think that a request for a wedding cake on White House stationary would be something framed and hung on the wall.” She offers, pointing her fork at her mother. “Or can that be done?”
“I’ll find out.” Your mother’s answering grin says she’ll find a way to make it happen if it is at all within her power. “If it can’t be done on White House stationary, the request will still have the First Family’s name on it.”
“We have a back up plan in case it’s unreasonable to ask,” you remind your mother. It isn’t worth throwing titles around over a cake. That’s not only silly, it would look very bad from an outside perspective.
“If it will cause an optic problem, we will handle it another way, but the wedding will be a White House function.” Your mother reminds you.
“Of course it will.” Your fork up another bite of your salad with a happy hum. “To that point: Mom, we’d like to have the ceremony in the Rose Garden if that’s okay with you.”
“Honestly?” She smiles at you. “I didn’t imagine you would want anywhere else.” She admits. “You have spent hours out there since I’ve changed my address.”
“Have you picked a date yet?” Donna asks, promoting you and Sydney to exchange a knowing smile.
“We did.” The fact that it’s starting to become a reality — this dream you’ve had for months now — makes you giddy in your seat. “Since we share so many of the same friends and family members between what would be two guest lists, Syd and Marcus and I all talked, and we’re having the wedding on September second next year. The next morning, in place of a day-after brunch, we’d like everyone to come and celebrate Constance’s birthday at the inn.”
“Oh that is wonderful!” Donna lights up and nods. “That little girl is cute as a button and her birth is wound into your engagement.”
“And,” you tilt your head to Sydney, not having formally asked her about this particular detail yet. “We’d like her to be our flower girl, too.”
Every woman in the room, including Junie, coos at the idea. Sydney nearly tears up, hormones still making her slightly over emotional when it comes to wonderful things and her daughter. “I would love that.”
“Malachi has set his tongue firmly in cheek and insists on being the ring bearer because I trust him with everything else in my life.” It had made you laugh so hard you’d doubled over when he had said it jokingly a few days ago and it’s all you’ve been able to think of since, so you and Marcus had asked him officially. “So he’ll bring her down the aisle safely. No worrying about getting her around or trying to teach a one-year-old to throw flower petals.”Top of Form
“Oh please tell me we can find a baby carrier in your wedding colors.” Sydney snorts, cackling with laughter. “I would pay money to see him strap her to his chest.”
“It shouldn’t be hard.” The thought hadn’t occurred to you but now that it has you’re fully on board. “We think we want to go with navy and gold. It should be easy to find a navy baby carrier.”
“Only if Malachi and Constance are wearing gold.” Selena chuckles. “God that will be cute.”
“We’ll make it adorable. But putting Constance in a little gold flower girl dress sounds adorable.” When everyone is done with their salads a few members of the White House staff comes back in to clear the small plates and serve lunch, which looks absolutely stunning. Not that that surprises anyone. The White House chef is remarkably talented and it makes you grateful on a very large scale that your wedding’s catering will be in good hands.
The first bite has Donna groaning in pleasure. “This is amazing.” She gushes, looking between you and your mother. “Tell me how this works.” She begs. “Do you have to pay for them yourselves or is it part of the perks of living in the White House?”
“Their salary is part of the presidential budget. The kitchen staff are White House employees, not the family’s specifically.” Your mother doesn’t mind talking a little bit of shop at the table, but she does lend Sydney a smile. “If you didn’t already have your restaurant I would have had you here in a heartbeat.”
“Anytime you wish me to cook…” Sydney promises with a grin. She’s spent many hours with your family and has cooked for them plenty of times.
“We might have to have you be a special guest chef for something.” The President smiles. She clearly already has an idea in mind. Sydney is her third daughter and she’s as proud of her as she is of you or June.
“I will cook your next inauguration dinner.” Sydney promises, lifting her glass of iced peach tea as a toast.
“I will take you up on that, young lady,” your mother teases, although everyone knows she isn’t teasing at all.
“Does your family have any special traditions?” Donna asks after a moment. “Beyond the wedding dress? Anything like a cookie table or similar?”
"We did a cookie table when Birdie's father and I got married." Your mother nods, smiling at the memory. "Our family isn't very large, so we don't have a lot of things that have been passed all around or repeated amongst cousins. My parents helped us with the down payment for a house as our wedding present but our kids have already gotten a step ahead in that respect."
“They are amazing.” She agrees with a proud nod. “I have brought something with me that is a Pike tradition.” She informs the table and makes sure she makes eye contact with you. “But that doesn’t mean it has to be continued.”
"Oh my god." Selena breathes from the other side of the table, and she puts one hand on her heart as you tear up instantly.
"I didn't know you were going to bring it," you murmur, having seen enough Pike family wedding photos to know exactly what she's talking about.
“Of course I was going to bring it.” She’s not offended, but she huffs slightly. “I remembered your grandmother’s dress and was hoping even if you decided not to wear it on your wedding day, that we could take a photo of you in the dress with the necklace.” She explains as she reaches down into her purse to pull out a very loved and worn necklace case.
When she hands you the jewelry case you set it very carefully between you on the table and open it up to be able to show Sydney, your mother, and Junie. "I did say I wanted to wear pearls, didn't I?" The necklace itself is ornate and beautiful. A three-strand pearl necklace of natural fresh water pearls in various tones and coordinated sizes that graduate gently at each end. The inner most strand has a stunning fixture of diamonds fashioned like outstretched wings. It can be worn all as one piece, as a double strand of pearls, as just a single pearl strand with the diamond fixture, or the diamond fixture can be removed altogether to become a brooch. Each Pike bride had done something different with the piece to make it her own. "It belonged to Marcus's great-grandmother," you explain to the few people at the table who have never seen the necklace before.
“It’s gorgeous.” Junie coos, falling in love with it. “It’s- oh god, it’s Cartier.” She breathes when she sees the emblem on the box. “Isn’t it?”
"My husband's grandmother was given the necklace as an engagement present," Donna explains, having been proud to wear the piece herself on her own wedding day. She had affixed the diamond brooch to her dress like a badge of honor. "She gave it to her daughter-in-law as engagement gift down the line, and it was leant out to subsequent nieces, cousins, and other granddaughters. It's become tradition for all of the Pike brides to be given the chance to wear the heirloom."
“That is such a lovely tradition.” Your mother comments, finding it to be absolutely breathtaking.
"Isn't it?" It's impossible not to fall in love with the story, just like you had when Marcus had shown you the plethora of family pictures and explained the tradition to you.
“It is time to let the necklace rest in the hands of the next generation.” Donna tells you softly. “We want you to have it.”
“To…to wear it.” You clarify, eyes widening to the point of saucers as you look at your future mother-in-law beside you.
“To keep it safe.” Donna clarifies. “The cousins and nieces and nephews may ask you for it to use and as the future Pike “matriarch” I suggest always offering it when someone gets engaged, but I mean for you to keep it going forward.”
“Pike…matriarch?” It hadn’t occurred to you that that would be the case. It truly hadn’t. Marcus has so many cousins and aunts and uncles you had just assumed that that title would go elsewhere. That the responsibility of it would fall to someone else. But you? “I’m—I’m absolutely honored,” you promise her, tearing up at the table as you squeeze her hand tightly.
Smiling at you, she reaches out and touches your face softly. “I am thrilled that Marcus has found you, wonderful you.”
“I didn’t plan on crying today,” you huff, always playfully, when tears start to press at your eyes. But it doesn’t matter. Not really. Not when they’re tears of appreciation and joy and you can lean over to hug your fiancé’s mother tightly. “Your entire family has been so kind and so welcoming. I’m impossibly grateful to all of you.”
“It is easy to be kind when you are amazing.” She promises. “You are supposed to be in this family, it’s….well, it’s fate.” She smiles ironically.
“It is, isn’t it?” Keeping things to just a sniffle is a miracle but you manage it for now with just a dab at the corners of your eyes.
Everyone else smiles at the obvious affection between future mother in law and bride. Your mother is eternally grateful that you have been so welcomed.
“Okay, well that was unexpected.” You wipe your eyes and let yourself have one more good sniffle before looking around the table with a soft grin. “Anyone else planning on making me cry today? I’ll brace myself.”
“Not unless there’s more unexpected news?” Your mother asks, looking around the table.
"I don't think so." Looking around the table makes you laugh. "Unless someone else has something up their sleeves."
“I cannot give you jewels or prestige, but I can offer my assistance with anything you need.” Selena offers.
"You have my bow." Junie jokes, ever the avid Lord of the Rings fan.
"And my axe." Syd snorts, giggling along with her.
“It was supposed to be sword first.” Your mother tsks, shaking her head at Junie, even as she grins. “Sounds like we need to rewatch it.”
"I know it's sword first." Junie complains, though she will never complain about a rewatch of her favourite movies. "But I never took fencing, I took archery. Why would I pledge my sister a weapon I can't wield?"
“My youngest child is so literal.” Your mother snorts, laughing at the offended look on Junie’s face.
"One of us has to be," you grin in amusement. "I've got my head in the clouds and Alex is a gremlin. We need Junie to ground us."
“You are all so very different, but so very alike.” She muses. “All of you amazing in your own way.”
"Oops." June laughs and points her drink in your direction. "Mom is getting sentimental. Quick, somebody else ask a wedding planning question."
“Where will the reception be?” Selena asks.
"Probably the East Room?" You look to your mother for confirmation, but it makes the most sense. It is the largest room in the residence and usually used for dancing and receptions of other kinds. "Would we have dinner in one of the dining rooms and then dancing in the East Room?"
“I believe that would be very fitting considering that is where the ‘First Princess’ photos were taken.” Your mother hums, nodding in agreement. “We must make sure that Marcus recreates that dip for another photo.” It would be for purely personal reasons she would want that.
“I’ll make sure he does.” It would be perfect for the first and last pages of your wedding album to be those photos, and the idea practically makes you sigh with the dreamy feeling in your heart. “So that’s all the wedding locations sorted. The rehearsal dinner is still way up in the air and the Jack and Jill bachelor party is being left up to the wedding party.” Your eyes cut to your three bridesmaids and Sydney, June, and Selena all grin back with false innocence. “But there will be photography so please keep it wholesome. The only other venue is the bridal shower.”
“Where would you want to have a bridal shower?” Selena asks curiously. “There are so many historic sights around here, I can’t help but think that it’s impossible to choose.”
“If we do another historical site, I want to make sure they keep the museum open like they did last night.” There are only a few bites of your salmon left and you already know you’ll be thinking about this meal for weeks to come. “Using historical sights is about recognizing American history and being open to discussing it. I would hate for someone to show up to an event at Ford’s Theater and assume we support presidential assassinations just like I would have hated anyone to show up last night and assume we supported slavery just because we were at the home of someone who had been a slave owner.” You shake your head a bit, knowing that some people will always be contrary. “Maybe a smaller museum that could use a little recognition?”
“What about something for women’s rights?” Sydney asks. “There’s the museum for Women in the Arts and the Women’s Museum.” She offers. “It can be a moment that shows that just because a woman finds her soulmate, that doesn’t mean she looses herself.”
“There are those, and also the Suffrage Museum,” you nod along with the idea.
“You mean Sewall-Belmont House?” Junie perks up immediately. “Technically it’s now the Belmont-Paul Women’s Equality National Monument.” You flash your best friend a grin. We could have a tea party in the museum dedicated to women’s suffrage? They sold tea blends and Held tea parties as part of the rallies during the suffrage movement. Any of those would work.”
“Really?” Donna tilts her head in curiosity and smiles. “That is something that I know nothing about, but it would be fascinating.” She confesses.
“Lets see which of those three would be able to take our numbers and passes the Secret Service’s scrutiny,” your mother suggests. “They would all be wonderful choices.”
Murmurs of agreement sound around the table and then the clinks of the forks on the plates resume as everyone continues to eat. “What about gifts.” Selena asks.
“For the bridal shower?” You cringe, knowing that gifts are traditional but also that you and Marcus can manage. “Ought I to make a registry? Or should everyone just have at it?”
“I think you should.” Your mother nods. “If you aren’t comfortable with the gifts, find a charity you would like contributions to be made to in your honor.”
"We've tossed around a few charities we want to support." It's something that has come up a little more often now that gift giving occasions are on the horizon. "We'll talk it over. But knowing my practical fiancé, he will suggest making a small registry for closest family members and friends, and choosing a charity or two to put on the invitations."
“That sounds like the best kind of compromise.” Sydney admits. “Aunt Mildred isn’t going to want to donate to charity, she wants to gift you an egg platter that will be used twice a year and then displayed with pride.”
You smirk, but nudge your best friend beside you. “So this hypothetical Aunt Mildred…is your mother?”
She snorts and sighs. “How did you guess? The horrible name or the insistence on things being her way?”
“Your mother is as particular as she is old fashioned.” You snort, knowing that particular is a generous description of Syd’s mother. Though she has always been a kind and supportive presence, she does has very strong beliefs.
“Particular.” Sydney rolls her eyes and shakes her head, although it’s more in fond exasperation than anything else. “Yes, but that particularity will have you something hopelessly needless and ornamental.” She warns.
“And we will treasure it because it’s from her.” After all, Sydney’s mother helped raise you. She’s as much a part of her childhood as your own mother in a lot of ways.
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"Mom is in meetings all day, so no fear of your mother-in-law popping in to give her two cents," you tease, as you and Marcus move through the White House residence on a Friday afternoon hours in advance of family dinner. You're meeting with the person that the White House special events staff has designated as your wedding planner for the very first time and trying not to seem nervous. It feels overwhelming to start this planning right in the midst of the holiday season but it has to get done. And the sooner the decisions are made, hopefully the easier the rest of the wedding preparations will be.
Marcus snorts and rolls his eyes playfully. “You’re the one who said I couldn’t use my badge.” He reminds you, winking as his arm loops around your waist.
"Because I want that ace in the hole, my love." You grin back at him and lean into his side, putting your arm around his waist in turn and giggling. "If anything goes truly sideways, that's when we use the badge."
“FBI, madam,” Marcus drawls seriously. “Did you insist on the color puce for a wedding color?!”
The snort you let out echoes in the halls of the residence and you're still giggling when you turn into the China Room. "I think navy and gold were good choices. Nice and simple. We're not trying to reinvent the wheel here."
“And it’s a play on red, white and blue.” Marcus observes. “The red will come from the roses in the Rose Garden and then gold for the white and of course, navy.”
"The white will surely be your bride, won't it?" Annette is already in the room, sitting with her notebook and phone out on the table in front of her. "Miss Sharma is on her way. She's just coming from a meeting with your father and I'm sure he has given her a few things to consider that he wants for your wedding."
Marcus smile as he nods towards Annette. “Good to see you again. And yes, she will be the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”
"There's no need for flattery, you two." But you still hum happily and sit down at the table with Marcus and Annette. "We're all the most interested in having a day that runs both beautifully and smoothly."
“I have two goals.” Marcus tells you. “Well, one goal.” He corrects. “Marry you. As long as that happens, the day is perfect.”
"Was there another one in debate?" The chairs are too far apart for you to lean into his side, so you take his hand and weave your fingers together instead.
“I had thought to have a water fight in the Rose Garden.” He jokes. “But I don’t the secret service would like a game of hide and seek.”
"I might put it on the schedule just to see them panic." Amelia Sharma is a tall, poised, and right now very amused woman who sweeps in to the room with a chuckle. She introduces herself but doesn't stand on much ceremony, plopping down in the chair between you and Annette. "We have quite a lot of work ahead of us. A few jokes will help us keep our heads on straight."
Marcus laughs as he watches her pull out a planner and it’s a wonderful idea. He bites his lip and wonders if it might be a keepsake you and he could have after the wedding is over. “Despite the magnitude of the wedding, we are really pretty simple people.”
"That might be the other thing that will keep our heads on straight," you admit, watching the woman get settled. As is habitual in your mother's White House, there is a pitcher of iced tea and a plate of snacks on the table but for now you just reach to pour yourself a glass of tea. "We're not terribly picky, or high maintenance, or any of that. All we want is a nice day with our friends and family."
“There will be a few other guests as well.” Annette reminds you. “But only few.”
"Do you have the list of official guests?" The guest list from the White House was meant to be approved by your mother early on and adjusted as economics and politics demanded, but you have been curious about a first draft.
“You have final say.” Amelia pulls a sheet of paper out of the planner and hands it to you.
Dignitaries and representatives from other governments are all represented as you suspected them to be. Members of your mother's cabinet. The new governor of Pennsylvania and her family. A few token members of important families. But no celebrities or donors or anything that doesn't make immediate sense as you look over the list.
“Does it look alright?” Marcus asks you, knowing that you are much more knowledgeable on the political side than he is.
“I never thought I would have to curtsy to anyone at my wedding, you admit, Running your finger along the names of the various retrial families on the list before you look back up at Annette and Amelia. “Do we think any of the royals will actually show, or just send a nice card?”
“They might arrange an upcoming tour of the US to coincide.” Annette tells you with a smile. “Although you could cause tongue to wag by not curtsying.”
“I don’t object to it,” you clarify immediately, thinking of all the scuttlebutt that would happen if you didn’t do something as silly as curtsy. “It sounds like a cute photo op actually. The First Princess and the Actual Princess.”
“I think I would like to see that.” Marcus agrees with a fond smile. “It would be a beautiful photo op.”
“You know what that makes you?” The sly grin on your lips for your fiancé isn’t subtle, nor is the sparkle in your eyes. “Prince Charming.”
He snorts and shrugs, “I’ve never denied that.” He teases playfully.
“Some will accept and some will not.” Amelia Sharma smiles, mostly because she can tell you’re nervous. “But those who will souls be given a bit more attention than your standard courtesy invitation.”
“It doesn’t matter who is there.” Marcus tells you. “All that matters is that those we love are there, celebrating our happiness. Everyone else is just white noise.”
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“We just want the flowers inside to complement the fact that our ceremony is being held in the Rose Garden.” It feels like a foreign language to you, talking to this florist, and you curse the fact that Marcus had been called out of the country on a case as you sit here with your wedding planning the florist’s shop wishing you knew what the hell you were talking about.
Marcus bites his lip, his alarm going off to remind him of the flower appointment. “Excuse me, I need to make a call back to the States.” Interpol doesn’t need to know that it’s not to his boss, so Marcus closes the door on the small office he’s been allowed to use and pulls out his phone.
It’s a miracle when your phone goes off in the middle of trying to find your voice with the florist. Oh thank god, you think with a sigh. “This is my fiancé,” you explain, and set your phone in the table in front of you to answer it. “Hi honey! You have perfect timing.”
“Have you already met with the florist?” He asks, happy to hear your voice and he thinks he hears a little bit of relief in your tone.
“We all just sat down,” you tell him, wishing you could just reach through the phone and hug him. “I was just telling Theresa about the Rose Garden, and Amelia is here with us as well.”
“So I’ve been doing some research….” Marcus admits with a smile in his tone.
“Oh?” Theresa, the florist, sounds impressed that a groom would be doing more research about flowers than the bride.
“We have colors for our wedding. Navy and gold, so I was thinking that we use marigolds, azure aster and baby’s breath for the bouquets.” He suggests. “They complement the roses in the garden and still have their own beauty.”
“We can certainly start there,” the florist hums, nodding along and starting to scribble down in her notebook. “We’ll get some height out of other flowers in the same color scheme, but this is a beautiful beginning. Bringing real color to the palette is much more lively than working with a monochromatic look and I think you’ll be very pleased with it.”
“What do you think, sweetheart?” He hopes he hasn’t overstepped because you and he hadn’t had a long discussion about flowers yet.
“I think it’s an utter relief,” you promise him with a laugh. “I had absolutely no idea of how to approach flowers and you’ve solved it in one go.”
“I spent the flight hooked up to the WiFi and researching flowers.” He admits with a laugh. “I just didn’t want you to have to think about this alone. If you hate it, that’s fine, but let the florist put something together like that to see, hum?”
“I’m absolutely on board.” And relieved — absolutely, entirely relieved. “You didn’t happen to have a thought about my bouquet, did you?”
“Actually…” Marcus chuckles and shrugs even though no one can see him. “I thought you could have something non-traditional and yet it would be a quiet statement in official portraits. What if you were to carry a bouquet of olive branches?”
“I could certainly use olive branches as greenery in your bouquet instead of the usual accents,” the florist offers, interested by the choice.
“You’re thinking of the official seal, aren’t you, love?” You ask Marcus over the phone, and hum slightly at the idea. It’s a nice homage without going crazy. “What if we used olive branches and laurel branches as the greenery for our flowers?” You offer after a moment. “Laurel are in the Seal of the President.”
“It would be a statement.” He agrees, having thought laurels might have been too bold, but the two of them together might be the ticket. “Especially since your mother is working hard to achieve peace.”
“And the day is a peaceful one.” Amelia smiles at the sentiment, nodding in approval. “After the turmoil you dealt with early on, it will be nice to have your day for happiness.”
“Yes.” Turmoil, you think with a polite smile. That’s one word for it. “Maybe for my bouquet we can use those greens and an assortment of white flowers? White versions of the things that we’re using in the other arrangements, and of course roses and dahlias and camellias. Things like that?”
“Whatever you want, sweetheart.” Marcus promises, smiling softly as you start to interject your own thoughts into the process.
“And what about the boutonnieres?” The florist is now taking rapid notes. “How many members of your wedding party will there be?”
“Honey?” Marcus speaks again. “Did we decide on four or five?”
“We said four, didn’t we?” You look down at the phone as though you were simply looking at him in conversation. “You have Juan, Alex, Leo, and Clark?” Originally Marcus had asked his father if he would want to be a groomsman, but after a long discussion Matthew had insisted that Marcus choose his friends that are nearby and truly enjoy himself.
“That’s right.” Marcus huffs. “You’re completely right, I forgot. There would be five total, four for the groomsmen and I would like a boutonniere that matches the bride’s bouquet. I think there should be a subtle difference between the arrangements, right?”
“Absolutely.” The florist nods, continuing to scribble. “I can do further simplified pieces for the fathers and the ring bearer if you would like?”
“Definitely.” It sounds very sweet, actually, to have everyone unified like that. “Our ring bearer is an adult, for the record. A very close friend. So the only child in the wedding party is our flower girl.”
“Will the child be holding a bouquet as well?” She asks and for some reason that makes Marcus laugh through the phone.
“Our goddaughter will only be a year old, so I’m not planning on testing her coordination with a bouquet and a basket of flower petals,” you answer as kindly as you can with Marcus giggling over the phone.
“Sorry, I’m just imagining Constance flapping the bouquet in Malachi’s face as he carries her down the aisle.” He snorts.
“Honestly?” You giggle right along with him but offer your florist and wedding planner an apologetic grin. “That alone might make it worthwhile.”
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“I’m here!” Sydney opens the door three inches and shoves her lips inside, the days of just popping in without announcing are over now that Marcus lives here. She’s not willing to risk walking in on something she shouldn’t see. “Put your clothes on.”
“Marcus is out with my Dad,” you huff at your best friend, but laugh anyway. “I’m fully dressed and presentable. But don’t come in, we need to scoot out if we’re going to meet Selena, our sisters, and my Mom at the dress shop.”
“Sorry.” She knows she’s the one running behind. Getting out the door has become practically impossible with Constance here now. “Let’s go.”
“Honey do not even apologize.” You grab your coat and grin to find Agent Bailey already ready to go.
“I’ll drive,” she offers, shooing you toward the elevator. “You two enjoy your gossip and baby pictures on the ride.”
“Thanks.” She flashes the agent a grin. “I only took ninety-seven photos this morning. Quite modest.”
“I can’t believe it’s dress shopping time already.” As the three of you head down in the elevator, you snag Sydney’s arm and tug her close in your excitement. The January chill has done nothing to quell your excitement, but it does mean you’re definitely wearing knee high boots with your plaid dress today instead of heels. “This dress shop is amazing and I’m so excited to see what you guys like.”
“How have your fittings been going with your grandmother’s dress?” She asks, knowing how careful you are being with altering the heirloom. You had taken Junie with you to make sure she approved.
“It’s going to be pretty perfect.” The elevator ride evaporates on a sigh and a laugh, and in mere minutes you’re sliding into Agent Bailey’s car. “It will be tea length, so the mission is to find dresses for the four of you that are the same or shorter.”
“You might be the first bride in history that wants her bridesmaids to have a sexier dress than she does.” Sydney teases, making Agent Bailey chuckle softly as she pulls out of the inn’s driveway.
"Knee length dresses can be perfectly modest," you huff, but you know she's right. "The place we're going is run by a pair of cousins, and they make modern interpretations of vintage dresses. I think we're going to find something fantastic. At least...I hope we will."
“I know we will.” She predicts. “This wedding planning has been super easy. Who could have guessed that Marcus would have been so engaged in the entire process?” Her comment is sarcastic because all of them knew it, but it’s still fun to point out that your soul mate is also carrying around bridal magazines in his briefcase.
"Actually?" Glancing over at her in the car, you smirk to hold back a joyous giggle. "He's the one who had the idea for the bridesmaid dresses that I think I'm going to go with."
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The little dress shop in downtown DC is just that — little — but the ladies who run it are endlessly sweet and accommodating. Your group just about fills the entire shop and there are Secret Service agents to boot, so the shop owners have elected to have their place open late today to accommodate your group as a private party.
It might actually be the most fun you e had with any wedding planning trip ever. You and Sydney join your mother, June, Selena, and Sydney’s sister AnnaLeigh to round out your bridesmaids— on top of having your wedding planner present — and everyone has mimosas to make the whole thing even more fun.
“Have you decided what color you would like the bridesmaids’ dresses, or are you still going to choose what you like best?” Your mother asks, happy to be able to be here after all the meetings this morning. Nothing but a national crisis would have prevented her from coming.
“I’m hoping we can find dresses for everyone that work in navy blue, but if we can’t then that’s fine.” You’re not going to be a bridezilla about your wedding colors. The groomsmen have all already ordered suits in navy with a gold pocket square so your colors are represented there. “I want you all to wear things that make you feel beautiful. Marcus had a thought that I agree with — that we should pick a color, a fabric type, and a length that everyone can agree on. And then everyone can have a dress in their own style that coordinates instead of completely matching.”
“Ohhhh interesting.” Junie lights up and nods. “I think that would be great, although, there’s a lot of beautiful things here.”
“If you all fall in love with the same dress, then that’s fine,” you look around at your bridesmaids with an utter softness in your expression, just glad to have you friends and your sister here. “But I’m not going to force you to match.”
Sydney smirks at Junie, both of them aware of the conversation that had been had without you about how you were all going to match for this wedding.
“Why don’t we start with the navy blue options and see what we like?” Your consultant today is one of the shop’s owners and she is nothing but smiles with the large group in her shop.
“Of course.” It’s absolutely thrilling to have the President and her daughter in their shop and the owners are here to personally oversee the day, giving you the privacy you need without the additional staff here. “We will pull all the styles we have available and we can order any size needed and make alterations.”
“Do you guys want to do a fashion show?” It’s a fully rhetorical question. You know these four women and you know they absolutely live for frivolous shopping trips and the endorphins of being silly with friends. This trip might be for a real event, but it still has that air of frivolity that shopping for prom dresses did back when you were teenagers. “I’m going to sit with Mom and Amelia and we’ll go through the best of the navy blue choices first?”
“Yes!” Junie immediately volunteers, shooting up out of her seat in excitement. “I put on my good bra too.”
"Come on, Junebug." Sydney tugs your baby sister toward the racks of dresses and nudges you firmly in the other direction. "Sit," she urges you. "Drink. Chat. Let us do the work for once."
"Oo!" AnnaLeigh, already in the racks of dresses, is gasping over a discovery. "I found one with a lace top!"
She pulls the dress out with a flourish and four bridesmaids immediately coo over the pretty dress. “I think you should try it on first.” Junie tells her.
“Everybody picks a different dress and we let Birdie pick, right?” Selena murmurs, her eyes already sliding to a satin swing dress that looks straight out of the 1950s.
“Agreed.” Sydney sees where Selena is heading and her own browsing bypasses that and goes directly for a beautiful sleeveless number.
It takes several minutes to get everyone coordinated, but when all four of your bridesmaids disappear into changing rooms there is a collective squealing and another moment’s pause before they emerge again in all their glory.
“Oh my…” your mother whispers, her gaze full of love and adoration for the vision in front of her. She loves Junie with all her heart, Sydney is the closest thing to a child she has beyond her biological children and of course she adores Syd’s sister and Selena. “You all look perfect.”
“Oh my god!” Knowing that your friends have excellent taste might have been a little bit of a tactic on your part, and setting them loose to pick the first round of dresses was a fantastic choice. “Okay, you all look amazing. But how do you feel? Comfortable? Like you can dance and move and sit without trouble?”
Every woman starts swinging the dresses around playful and moving. Junie and Selena dance to no music and all of them laugh.
“What about sitting?” Choosing between any of the four dresses they’ve chosen will be impossible unless you put on a critical eye. The dress Junie has on is the right length on her, but your petite little sister is considerably shorter than the other three. And the dress can’t be elongated to fit them.
There are chairs and all four of them sit down with great aplomb, grinning happily. The dresses feel right.
“I swear, if you all tell me you found the perfect dresses first thing…” Looking between them, it certainly seems that way. As though they have all magically found perfection without any effort at all.
“What? That we have time for you to try on your dress with the alterations started?” Junie challenges with a grin. “Don’t you think you should see what a rough look like it will be, all together?”
“Is it safe?” You have to let the shopkeeper make the call on that decision. The reason you found this shop was that they specialize in working with vintage pieces as well as selling vintage-inspired designs, so it had been sort of a one stop shop for you in terms of planning.
“Yes.” She smiles at the wistful hope in your eyes and knows that she can’t say no. The hem has been pinned and as long as you aren’t careless with it, it will be good to get a final fitting with it. “We can go get it from the back.”
“I really didn’t expect to put it on today.” Which is evidenced by the fact that you didn’t even think to wear a strapless bra today, but it doesn’t matter. It will be beautiful regardless.
Junie smirks and shakes her head. “You have to.” She insists. “One picture with all of us right now.”
“Do you guys really love these dresses? You’re not just saying that?” Looking at the four of them, you can’t help but get a touch misty-eyed as Selena pulls you up on the dais with them to look in the mirror together. “Because you all look stunning, but you really don’t have to pick after the first round.”
“I love mine.” Selena snorts. “This is the one I want.” The others hum and nod in agreement. “Yeah, this is the one for me.”
“What kind of jewelry are you thinking?” AnnaLeigh asks, gleefully swishing her skirt in the mirror.
“I was thinking…pearls maybe?” Meeting all of their eyes in the mirror, you have four beaming smiles gleaming back at you. “But the other wedding color is gold, so maybe…maybe pearls and gold? But those are going to be gifts for you four. Thank you gifts, for being a part of all of this.”
“You don’t have to give us anything.” Sydney automatically protests, but she knows you will do it anyway.
“No.” You know that, but you squeeze your best friend to your side. “But I want to.”
“But we just want to lodge a formal protest.” Her sister chimes in with a grin. “So we are going to buy our bridesmaids dresses.”
“Absolutely not.” Shaking your head at that adamantly, all four of them shoot you a stern look in the mirror. “You guys, no,” you insist, nudging them all. “Get your own shoes. Whatever height you like. Be comfortable and pick something fun. Gold or blue, you guys decide as a group. But…Mom already offered to pay for the bridesmaids’ dresses.”
“You’re no fun.” Sydney huffs, turning towards the President and rolling her eyes at your mother. “The presidential purse, hum?”
“The regular purse,” your mother laughs. You’ve allowed her this one little thing to do personally, while most of the wedding expenses are being covered by a combined force of contributions. “You all look stunning, and I want the bragging right of saying I got all of these beautiful dresses for you.”
“Mrs. Pike?” The shop owner has a little habit of calling all the brides by the future marital name and it makes you beam. “We are ready for you to try on the dress.”
“Here goes nothing.” You grin at your friends in the mirror and slip away to change, practically floating with the glow of two little words. Mrs. Pike. In just eight months, that is exactly who you will be.
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