Every Bride Needs a Groom by Janice Thompson

unlocked? Mama needs her privacy!” This escalated into an argument between mother and daughter. I could tell I’d lost my cousin altogether, so I said my goodbyes.
    After I ended the call with Lori-Lou, I went back to work on the summer window display and pondered my situation with Casey. He needed to know about the dress. If I showed up at the bridal shop next Monday without an engagement ring, I’d have a tough time answering questions about how my wonderful fiancé had proposed, now wouldn’t I?
    I had to talk to Casey about our future together as a couple. And I had to somehow get him to pop the question.

6 A  Dear John Letter
    Of emotions, of love, of breakup, of love and hate and death and dying, mama, apple pie, and the whole thing. It covers a lot of territory, country music does.
    Johnny Cash
    A fter a stressful afternoon of trying to balance work with my frazzled emotions, I managed to talk Pop into letting me off early. By four thirty I was in my car, driving through the heart of town to Casey’s house. If I knew my guy—and I did—he was just arriving home from work. Changing into his jeans and cowboy boots, no doubt, then heading out to work in the yard for his mama. Such a great son. Such a great guy.
    Underneath the brilliant late-afternoon sun, the whole town seemed brighter, happier than ever. Banners hung along Main Street, advertising next month’s Fourth of July parade. Folks strolled from building to building, store to store, chatting and hugging like the old friends they were.
    What a blissful place to live. What a fantastic place to marry and raise a family. No wonder my parents had opted to stay here all these years. We lived in paradise.
    When I turned right at the next corner, I saw Reverend Bradford shopping at the local bookstore. He waved as I drove by and I returned the gesture. He turned his attention to Mr. Finkle, the store owner, who patted him on the back and gestured for him to step inside the store.
    As I drove past Tu-Tu-Sweet, our local bakery/ballet studio, I caught a glimpse of a faux wedding cake in the front window, one I’d never seen before. I made a mental note to stop by tomorrow to check it out. I’d have to start shopping for wedding items soon. Well, as soon as I had a date set. To my left, flags flew over the courthouse, the sunshine causing the white stripes to shimmer in the breeze. All in all, a picture-perfect day to broach the happily-ever-after question with my sweetheart.
    Mayor Luchenbacher stood in front of the courthouse, gazing up at the American flag. He gave me a frantic wave, and I rolled down the window to holler, “Good afternoon!” I didn’t dare slow down for a conversation. He’d have me signing up to coordinate the Fourth of July parade again. Hopefully I’d be too busy planning for my big day to head up the festivities this year.
    The radio station blared out a familiar worship song, and I leaned back against the seat as I drove, the words sliding off my tongue. Words of joy. Hope. Faith. They made my heart sing all the way to Casey’s homestead.
    When I pulled up to the Lawson home, I sighed with pure joy. I’d always loved this expansive property with its traditional picket fence. Gorgeous. I could see myself living in a place like this someday. Our children would run and play in the yard. Our dog—probably a Lab—would romp around with the kids and then take a dip in the pond out back. Someday. Then again, from what Casey had shared, he might be more interested in getting something new. Maybe we’d build a small house on the back acreage. That might be nice. We could have our own space and still be close to the family.
    Before getting out of the car, I checked my appearance in the rearview mirror. A quick lipstick touch-up was called for, and then I climbed out of the car, adjusted my twisted blouse, and headed to the front door, where Casey’s mother greeted me