Good Girls

Good Girls

Ruby Binns-Cagney

©BinnsCagneyPublishing Co 2015

All rights reserved. The reproduction, transmission or utilization of this work by any means is prohibited without written permission.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the Author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to locales or to actual persons is purely coincidental.

©Cover Image BinnsCagneyDesign Co

Table of Contents

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

About The Author

Chapter One

Marlene Franklin was fed up. She was done with always being the Bridesmaid and never the Bride. As soon as her only sister Chrissy was married today, Marlene swore that she was going to refuse to accept any more invitations to weddings or pleas for her to be a Bridesmaid.

Marlene tried on the bridesmaid dress Chrissy had demanded she buy and wear on her sister’s big day. The sight of her reflection in the full-length mirror did little to prevent the look of disgust that spread across her face. One look at the lilac, billowing, fishnet underskirt beneath the floaty putrid lilac gown her elder sister Chrissy had practically begged her to wear to her wedding, and Marlene wanted to go to bed and hide for at least a week.

Missing the wedding wasn’t an option, so inspired with the idea the dress could be modified, she tugged at the fishnet underskirt until it ripped from its moorings; which would help her avoid making the fashion faux pas that bridesmaid dresses are, the world over.

Are you ready yet, Marlene? The car’s here. Get a move on!

There it was. The nagging, shaky, nervous, warble of her sister Chrissy’s voice from the bottom of the stairs. Marlene was running late but she was determined to modify her dress if it was the last thing she did that morning. But, if she had to stitch the dress by hand she’d make Chrissy get to the Church even later than the Bride was traditionally supposed to arrive. Her husband-to-be, Paul, had made Marlene promise to get Chrissy to the Church on time, and Marlene had reassured him she’d do so.

Give me a few more minutes! The zip’s stuck, Marlene called down the stairs and then hurried back over to her dressing table. A staple gun languished beside the hole punch she used for her scrapbooking; color-coded binders crammed with clippings of wedding dresses, veils in different styles, and copious photographs of wedding cakes resided. Marlene was a Bride-in-training. Ready for the day Mr Right showed himself and popped the proverbial question.

All of twenty-nine years old, Marlene had always dreamt of getting married on her thirtieth birthday – which was just six months away. Her current lack of boyfriend complicated matters, though that wasn’t enough of a deterrent to Marlene.

Her hand was on the stapler before she realized, and minutes later she’d created an entirely different dress out of the layers of fabric, which had previously smothered her slender frame.

Having checked her reflection from all sides and finally satisfied that she could (1) breathe properly, and (2) sit down, she ran down the stairs towards the car, idling beside a red-faced Chrissy; mid-fight with her tulle wedding dress.

How are we all going to fit in the back with the dress everywhere? Marlene tugged on Chrissy’s veil and it popped into her hand.

Fat lot of help you are! Chrissy seethed through gritted teeth. Marlene bit her lip so she wouldn’t burst into tears. Chrissy’s words had stung, and although Marlene was used to the barbs it still took her a few seconds to ignore it and steel herself for the next onslaught.

The insults were heightened today because her sister was stressed. Chrissy had a secret, and it was her wedding day, which only magnified the pressure of keeping her secret times ten. This was the most inopportune moment for the secret to be exposed. Chrissy slipped inside the limousine and Marlene scraped together the train of her dress and pushed it onto the backseat, careful not to step onto it. Two other bridesmaids climbed onto the seats opposite and Marlene played nice, as they were Chrissy’s friends from work.

Can you go with Marcus instead, Mel? He’s the Best Man, so it makes sense if you go to the Church with him. Never one to shirk her responsibilities, Marlene settled beside Chrissy and slammed the car door.

No chance. Besides, his breath smells like mothballs. I’d suffocate in the car with him, Marlene huffed and puffed beside Chrissy who stifled a laugh and looked at her sister.

I like what you’ve done with your dress.

Thanks. Sorry I almost made you miss your own wedding.

It’s forgotten. Let’s just get it over with. Chrissy stroked her fringe away from her eyes.

Charming. You make it sound like you’re not in love with Paul and having his baby. Marlene said, and then realized she’d just sat on the bridal bouquet and tried not to squirm.

Keep your voice down! Nobody’s meant to know about the baby, and I’m sure even the Driver almost heard you. Chrissy looked at Sophia nervously.

Kevin’s not going to say anything. Relax, you drama queen. Sophia said, and stared at the small mirror she’d secreted into her purse. Kevin was Paul’s Manager at the local car dealership which Kevin part-owned along with Marlene and Chrissy’s Uncle, James.

Chrissy playfully tugged Marlene’s ear and then hugged her. She gave her a kiss on the cheek, and Marlene gave her a look that warned her not to do it again.

Don’t start crying or you’ll ruin your make up and I don’t have time to trowel it all off and on again, Chrissy said, as Marlene had tears in her eyes which Chrissy chose to wipe away.

Cheeky mare. Marlene said. Her hand in Chrissy’s felt good and she left it there.

Is Patrick still in Los Angeles? Chrissy said, and then patted Marlene’s hand nervously.

He’s flying back tomorrow. Seemed genuinely sorry he couldn’t make it.

One less mouth to feed is fine by me. Marlene tried not to think about her Manager, Patrick and his sticky-up-hair and designer suits. Her face felt flushed just thinking about him.

Tell me about Ricardo. How am I going to spend the day with him if I don’t know what to talk about? Angelina said, and quickly made sure her nail polish wasn’t chipped.

He’s one of Paul’s closest friends. You’ll be fine. Besides, it’s too late to worry about that now. We’re here, Chrissy said, and then looked up at the Church. Marlene watched fear wash over her face.

It’s normal to be nervous. It’ll be over soon. Don’t be sick, will you? Marlene said.

Mar, shut up! Chrissy said, and then flung open the car door and pulled her gown free of the vehicle.

Hang on! Let me phone Ricardo and make sure Paul’s inside, Sophia said.

For such a small purse you’ve packed a lot in there. Any snacks in there? Marlene said. The only opportunity to eat had been at the wedding breakfast and she’d felt too sick with nerves to eat in front of all the guests.

Sadly no. Sophia dialed Paul’s number and he answered on the first ring.

Paul, you’re on speaker, Sophia sang; giddy with excitement, while Marlene gestured with two fingers in her mouth that she was going to induce vomiting purely by looking at her.

It’s Ricardo. Take me off speaker. His voice sounded serious.

What’s happened? Marlene took charge of the situation and grabbed the phone.

Paul never made it back to the Hotel last night. We don’t know where he is.

What’s keeping you? Come on, Chrissy said and tugged on Marlene’s hand to help her out of the limousine.

Hold on. Chrissy, Paul’s not inside the Church. Come here, Marlene dragged her by her outstretched