Part-time clown Amelia White has a detailed list of traits and accomplishments that make for her perfect man and she won't marry anyone lacking even one of them. Perhaps that's why she's nearly thirty and still unmarried.
Always a bridesmaid, never a bride seems to apply to both her and her roommate---until Stacy announces her upcoming and unexpected wedding. Now Amelia is feeling like an old maid of honor.
When she is introduced to Ben Adams and begins to spend time with him,
she is delighted to check off all the items on her list and believes he might just be The One.
As she falls in love, she learns she has assumed a great deal and Ben is not the man she thought he was.
Even so, could he prove to be the perfect man for her?
Always a bridesmaid, never a bride seems to apply to both her and her roommate---until Stacy announces her upcoming and unexpected wedding. Now Amelia is feeling like an old maid of honor.
When she is introduced to Ben Adams and begins to spend time with him,
she is delighted to check off all the items on her list and believes he might just be The One.
As she falls in love, she learns she has assumed a great deal and Ben is not the man she thought he was.
Even so, could he prove to be the perfect man for her?
Excerpt ~ Old Maid of Honor
Copyright © 2011 Heather Horrocks
Chapter One
HONK!
Sitting at the red light, Amelia White jumped and glanced toward the sound. The guy in the bright red Ford F250 four-by-four pickup in the next lane flashed her a thumb’s up. She waved, a smile painted on her face.
She should be used to it by now. For some strange reason, it was guys in big macho vehicles who seemed to appreciate it the most. Must be the kid in them. But, for whatever reason, she received lots of positive attention when she drove around wearing her clown costume, grease paint, and big red nose.
Taking hold of the wheel, she realized how tired she was after entertaining sick kids at the hospital. She just wanted to get home to her house on College Avenue. Remove her clown costume. Shower. Scrub off the makeup. Eat some dinner. And watch a chick flick with her roommate and best friend, Stacy Madison.
Just thinking about relaxing cheered her up.
And it was always great to relax in a place where the weather in May was a balmy sixty-seven degrees. There couldn’t be better weather anywhere than in her hometown of Palo Alto, California.
As the light turned green, she pushed the accelerator and shot forward. The guy in the pickup roared past her Corolla and honked again. That was another thing guys in big macho vehicles liked to do.
Her cell phone rang as she slowed for the next red light and glanced down. It was Stacy. Plugging in her earphones, she joked, “Is dinner ready yet?”
“Amelia, do not go home. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. Proceed directly to your parents’ house.” Stacy sounded more excited than Amelia had heard her in a long time.
And she’d known her a long time. They’d gone to Mutual together and later been college roommates at Stanford University. They were lamenting the approach of their thirtieth birthdays together, each before the end of this year. And they’d shared everything--dating woes and excitements, car accidents and career glitches, promotions and successes--with each other. “Why go to my parents’?”
“Do not ask questions. Just do as the Queen commands you.”
Amelia raised an eyebrow. “The Queen of confusion, perhaps.”
“The Queen, nonetheless.”
“I’m in my clown costume. I need to change.”
“Do not go home to change. Come right now. Really. It’s important.”
And the phone went dead.
Amelia pulled away from the intersection, zigging where she’d planned on zagging, and headed north toward her parents’ home.
Stacy’s parents had moved to Palo Alto, California, while Stacy was in junior high, and moved back east when Stacy graduated and went on to Stanford. She hadn’t met the future husband her parents had hoped for, but she’d liked it enough in California to stay. Amelia’s parents’ home was her home-away-from-home, complete with parents-away-from-parents.
Ten minutes later, Amelia had to park her Corolla in front of the neighbor’s, as her parents’ house had a grundle of cars in front already. She recognized two of the vehicles as belonging to her two sisters, Pam and Lynette. What was going on?
As she climbed out, the neighbor’s little boy, maybe four years old, stopped his tricycle and stared, open-mouthed. “Wow!”
With a smile, she pulled out a long, skinny balloon and blew it up, twisting it into a sword for him. His face lit up. This was exactly why she loved clowning and balloons and magic, though she knew this hobby could never take the place of serious work, like her nursing.
Before she could knock on the door, Stacy flung it open and grabbed her arm. “I am so glad you’re here. Finally!”
Stacy’s full lips were shaped in a happy smile, and her green eyes sparkled.
She pulled Amelia into the living room where the entire extended family was gathered. Amelia’s parents stood by the fireplace. Scattered around the room were her two sisters and their spouses, several cousins, and cheek-pinching Aunt Victoria. And Stacy’s current boyfriend of three weeks, Jim Bentley, a handsome six-foot-tall ex-football player for Stanford University.
“I am so glad to share this news with you. Everyone . . .” Stacy paused, literally glowing with excitement. “We’re getting married!”
There was a stunned pause, and then Amelia’s sisters and cousins--all the women, except her--clustered around, oohing and aahing over the ring Amelia had failed to notice and asking, “When?”
“Mid June,” announced Stacy.
“Who’s the groom?” Amelia asked skeptically. Three weeks of dating Jim wasn’t enough to make Stacy lose her head. This was the Queen of a-woman-must-know-a-guy-for-at-least-a-year-before-getting-engaged, for Pete’s sake.
“Jim, of course.” Stacy frowned. “Duh, Amelia.”
Jim grinned at her. “Hi, Amelia. Yes, it’s true. I swept Stacy off her feet.”
“Good one, guys,” Amelia said. Jim was good-looking enough to do some sweeping, but she just didn’t believe it. Not from Stacy. “So, let me guess. You’re trying to get back at me for all the practical jokes I’ve pulled, is that it?”
Her mother frowned. “Amelia, really.”
Stacy shook her head and smiled sweetly. “Oh, I do plan to get you back sometime, but this engagement is very real.” Stacy grinned and held out her hand for Amelia to inspect. “Look. Isn’t the ring gorgeous?”
Amelia looked. The ring was, indeed, gorgeous. It was, indeed, huge. “Wal-Mart sells those giant cubic zirconias for ten bucks. You’ll have to do better than that.”
Stacy frowned. “I’m not joking, Amelia Jean. I’m getting married. Jim proposed to me today. We bought the ring at Gleim Jewelers--not at Wal-Mart, for your information. We’re getting married on June fifteenth. And I want you to be my Maid of Honor.”
Amelia still wasn’t quite convinced. She’d pulled too many jokes on Stacy. She whispered, “Come on, admit it. This is a joke, right?”
Stacy lowered her voice, looking earnest. “Please, Amelia. Don’t ruin this moment for me. Whether you believe it or not, Jim and I are getting married.” The irritation on Stacy’s face couldn’t completely take away from her glow of happiness. “We’re going to start a family right away. We’re moving into Jim’s house, and he’s going to build a shop there so I can continue working as a hair stylist after we’re married.”
It was what she and Stacy had always wanted for their own weddings, right? Their dream come true. Could Stacy really have found the man for her? The for-time-and-all-eternity love they’d both been searching for? In just three weeks of dating? “You’re serious? You really are getting married?”
“Yes!”
“Because if you’re playing a trick on me . . .”
Stacy laughed. “You are too darn cynical for your own good. If I ever play a trick on you, it’ll be bigger than this one. Much bigger.”
“Won’t happen. In fact, I’d bet you twenty dollars you couldn’t even play a practical joke on me. You just can’t keep a straight face long enough, though you almost succeeded here.” Amelia shook her head again as a slow smile crossed her face. “Won’t happen. But the wedding is for real? Really, truly for real?”
“Really. Truly. Cross my heart. Believe it. I wouldn’t trick you over something this important.”
Stacy was telling the truth. Amelia squealed and hugged her best friend, as best she could without smearing grease paint on her. “Congratulations.”
She hugged Jim, too. “You’d better treat my friend right, you hear.”
“I will, already.”
Laughing, she stood on tiptoes and planted a messy kiss that smeared clown makeup on his cheek.
“Yuck,” said Stacy.
Amelia said, “Congratulations, you two. That’s wonderful.”
She was happy for Stacy. Really, she was. Happy, and excited, and . . . jealous.
She scanned the room, trying not to count the married couples. Her cousin Gina was “large with child” and her sister Pam was three months along. Two other cousins were engaged. And none of them had lasted until age twenty-five before receiving a ring. Except for Amelia and Stacy.
And now Stacy would get married before she turned thirty.
Between older sisters and friends, Amelia had been the bridesmaid at nine prior weddings.
This would be her tenth time. First as Maid of Honor.
And she already knew what would happen. Her friends never meant to cut her out of their lives, but as soon as they got married, she was relegated to low priority. She hadn’t seen Misha for six months. Cheryl had moved to Texas and disappeared. Deb emailed regularly, but Amelia hadn’t actually seen her for nearly a year. She rarely saw any of her old friends more than every few months.
And now she’d be losing her roommate, and her best friend, all on the same day.
❤
Amelia’s niece, Hayley, tugged on her baggy clown costume. “Aunt Amelia, would you please show me a magic trick?”
Why not? It would shake her out of her blue funk. She tugged a red handkerchief from her pocket and stuffed it into her fist. “Okay, cutie. Pull on the red handkerchief.”
Her nephew Brett, nicknamed Bratt Boy, came up to watch.
Amelia turned her hand so that Hayley pulled on the opposite side from what she’d pushed it into. As her niece pulled, the handkerchief turned from red to blue . . . green . . . purple . . . orange.
Hayley gasped and squealed with excitement, and Amelia grinned. The chameleon hanks always succeeded in impressing kids. Best ten-dollar trick ever.
Hayley’s laugh magically lightened Amelia’s heart. She patted the little girl’s head.
Brett was a tougher audience, but he couldn’t hide his smile, especially when I shook hands with him and my hand buzzer gave him a mild, surprising shock. “Cool.”
“Teach me how to do that trick,” Hayley begged.
“You know I can’t give away my clown secrets,” Amelia said.
“Ahh.” Hayley pouted.
Amelia chuckled. “Maybe next time.”
“It’s like you have superpowers or something,” said Brett. “Like Superman or Spiderman or something.”
“That’d be Spiderwoman to you, my adorable Bratt Boy.”
When her mother went into the kitchen, Amelia followed her. She was not surprised at all that her mother had prepared a feast--veggies and dip, chips and salsa, sandwiches, even chocolate cake. “How much notice did Stacy give you for this impromptu announcement party?”
Her mother laughed. “Oh, about two hours.”
“You’re incredible,” Amelia said. “It’s like your own magic trick. Pulling food out of a hat. I wish I had your gift. There’s nothing you can’t do.”
“Oh, yes, there is.” Her mother sighed. “The real magic trick would be getting your father to church. I wish I had that gift.”
Amelia stifled a sigh. She didn’t want to hear this again. Her father was a great guy. A great dad. He’d been baptized at age eight, but quit going to church in his twenties, shortly after he married her mom, and never returned. He always encouraged his family to go, but that had never been enough for her mother.
Or her sisters, who hadn’t had their father at their temple weddings, only their mother.
To be totally honest, that had never been enough for Amelia, either.
And she’d never understood why her parents hadn’t married in the temple to begin with. They’d had a civil wedding so Grandma Larson could see her daughter get married. But the reason for not also having a temple wedding was shrouded in the mists of time and neither parent wanted to go there.
As the doorbell rang, Amelia thought of the checklist she had at home. She’d written it up five years ago, determined to avoid the type of disappointment her mother had experienced, and she was still searching for the perfect man.
Good looking would be nice. Preferably taller than she. But those were the optional items. Definitely required was a returned missionary. Active. Temple-attending. Strong family ethics.
She was going to create her life exactly the way she wanted it. And, basically, she wanted a guy with all the good qualitites of her dad--only a man who also went to church and the temple.
“Here you are,” Stacy said, laughing. “Jim and I have someone we want you to meet. He’s a friend of Jim’s and he’s just arrived.”
This day just kept getting better and better. Stacy was going to introduce her to a guy while she was in her clown costume and grease paint. She didn’t have a chance unless the guy had a great sense of humor. Which was also on her list, by the way.
Amelia turned. Standing next to her friend was a guy she hadn’t seen before.
He was at least six inches taller than Amelia. He had a garment line dipping around his chest, so he’d been to the temple. She vaguely noticed these things before being drawn in by the darkest, warmest brown eyes she’d ever seen.
If she were Spiderwoman, as Bratt Boy had said, her spider senses had just started tingling. Down her arms. Down her legs. Up her spine. Wow.
She’d never been this attracted to a guy before.
And she was dressed as a clown.
Yes, Heavenly Father had a sense of humor. Anyone denying that fact just wasn’t looking hard enough. But there was nothing she could do about it now except just make the best of it.
HONK!
Sitting at the red light, Amelia White jumped and glanced toward the sound. The guy in the bright red Ford F250 four-by-four pickup in the next lane flashed her a thumb’s up. She waved, a smile painted on her face.
She should be used to it by now. For some strange reason, it was guys in big macho vehicles who seemed to appreciate it the most. Must be the kid in them. But, for whatever reason, she received lots of positive attention when she drove around wearing her clown costume, grease paint, and big red nose.
Taking hold of the wheel, she realized how tired she was after entertaining sick kids at the hospital. She just wanted to get home to her house on College Avenue. Remove her clown costume. Shower. Scrub off the makeup. Eat some dinner. And watch a chick flick with her roommate and best friend, Stacy Madison.
Just thinking about relaxing cheered her up.
And it was always great to relax in a place where the weather in May was a balmy sixty-seven degrees. There couldn’t be better weather anywhere than in her hometown of Palo Alto, California.
As the light turned green, she pushed the accelerator and shot forward. The guy in the pickup roared past her Corolla and honked again. That was another thing guys in big macho vehicles liked to do.
Her cell phone rang as she slowed for the next red light and glanced down. It was Stacy. Plugging in her earphones, she joked, “Is dinner ready yet?”
“Amelia, do not go home. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. Proceed directly to your parents’ house.” Stacy sounded more excited than Amelia had heard her in a long time.
And she’d known her a long time. They’d gone to Mutual together and later been college roommates at Stanford University. They were lamenting the approach of their thirtieth birthdays together, each before the end of this year. And they’d shared everything--dating woes and excitements, car accidents and career glitches, promotions and successes--with each other. “Why go to my parents’?”
“Do not ask questions. Just do as the Queen commands you.”
Amelia raised an eyebrow. “The Queen of confusion, perhaps.”
“The Queen, nonetheless.”
“I’m in my clown costume. I need to change.”
“Do not go home to change. Come right now. Really. It’s important.”
And the phone went dead.
Amelia pulled away from the intersection, zigging where she’d planned on zagging, and headed north toward her parents’ home.
Stacy’s parents had moved to Palo Alto, California, while Stacy was in junior high, and moved back east when Stacy graduated and went on to Stanford. She hadn’t met the future husband her parents had hoped for, but she’d liked it enough in California to stay. Amelia’s parents’ home was her home-away-from-home, complete with parents-away-from-parents.
Ten minutes later, Amelia had to park her Corolla in front of the neighbor’s, as her parents’ house had a grundle of cars in front already. She recognized two of the vehicles as belonging to her two sisters, Pam and Lynette. What was going on?
As she climbed out, the neighbor’s little boy, maybe four years old, stopped his tricycle and stared, open-mouthed. “Wow!”
With a smile, she pulled out a long, skinny balloon and blew it up, twisting it into a sword for him. His face lit up. This was exactly why she loved clowning and balloons and magic, though she knew this hobby could never take the place of serious work, like her nursing.
Before she could knock on the door, Stacy flung it open and grabbed her arm. “I am so glad you’re here. Finally!”
Stacy’s full lips were shaped in a happy smile, and her green eyes sparkled.
She pulled Amelia into the living room where the entire extended family was gathered. Amelia’s parents stood by the fireplace. Scattered around the room were her two sisters and their spouses, several cousins, and cheek-pinching Aunt Victoria. And Stacy’s current boyfriend of three weeks, Jim Bentley, a handsome six-foot-tall ex-football player for Stanford University.
“I am so glad to share this news with you. Everyone . . .” Stacy paused, literally glowing with excitement. “We’re getting married!”
There was a stunned pause, and then Amelia’s sisters and cousins--all the women, except her--clustered around, oohing and aahing over the ring Amelia had failed to notice and asking, “When?”
“Mid June,” announced Stacy.
“Who’s the groom?” Amelia asked skeptically. Three weeks of dating Jim wasn’t enough to make Stacy lose her head. This was the Queen of a-woman-must-know-a-guy-for-at-least-a-year-before-getting-engaged, for Pete’s sake.
“Jim, of course.” Stacy frowned. “Duh, Amelia.”
Jim grinned at her. “Hi, Amelia. Yes, it’s true. I swept Stacy off her feet.”
“Good one, guys,” Amelia said. Jim was good-looking enough to do some sweeping, but she just didn’t believe it. Not from Stacy. “So, let me guess. You’re trying to get back at me for all the practical jokes I’ve pulled, is that it?”
Her mother frowned. “Amelia, really.”
Stacy shook her head and smiled sweetly. “Oh, I do plan to get you back sometime, but this engagement is very real.” Stacy grinned and held out her hand for Amelia to inspect. “Look. Isn’t the ring gorgeous?”
Amelia looked. The ring was, indeed, gorgeous. It was, indeed, huge. “Wal-Mart sells those giant cubic zirconias for ten bucks. You’ll have to do better than that.”
Stacy frowned. “I’m not joking, Amelia Jean. I’m getting married. Jim proposed to me today. We bought the ring at Gleim Jewelers--not at Wal-Mart, for your information. We’re getting married on June fifteenth. And I want you to be my Maid of Honor.”
Amelia still wasn’t quite convinced. She’d pulled too many jokes on Stacy. She whispered, “Come on, admit it. This is a joke, right?”
Stacy lowered her voice, looking earnest. “Please, Amelia. Don’t ruin this moment for me. Whether you believe it or not, Jim and I are getting married.” The irritation on Stacy’s face couldn’t completely take away from her glow of happiness. “We’re going to start a family right away. We’re moving into Jim’s house, and he’s going to build a shop there so I can continue working as a hair stylist after we’re married.”
It was what she and Stacy had always wanted for their own weddings, right? Their dream come true. Could Stacy really have found the man for her? The for-time-and-all-eternity love they’d both been searching for? In just three weeks of dating? “You’re serious? You really are getting married?”
“Yes!”
“Because if you’re playing a trick on me . . .”
Stacy laughed. “You are too darn cynical for your own good. If I ever play a trick on you, it’ll be bigger than this one. Much bigger.”
“Won’t happen. In fact, I’d bet you twenty dollars you couldn’t even play a practical joke on me. You just can’t keep a straight face long enough, though you almost succeeded here.” Amelia shook her head again as a slow smile crossed her face. “Won’t happen. But the wedding is for real? Really, truly for real?”
“Really. Truly. Cross my heart. Believe it. I wouldn’t trick you over something this important.”
Stacy was telling the truth. Amelia squealed and hugged her best friend, as best she could without smearing grease paint on her. “Congratulations.”
She hugged Jim, too. “You’d better treat my friend right, you hear.”
“I will, already.”
Laughing, she stood on tiptoes and planted a messy kiss that smeared clown makeup on his cheek.
“Yuck,” said Stacy.
Amelia said, “Congratulations, you two. That’s wonderful.”
She was happy for Stacy. Really, she was. Happy, and excited, and . . . jealous.
She scanned the room, trying not to count the married couples. Her cousin Gina was “large with child” and her sister Pam was three months along. Two other cousins were engaged. And none of them had lasted until age twenty-five before receiving a ring. Except for Amelia and Stacy.
And now Stacy would get married before she turned thirty.
Between older sisters and friends, Amelia had been the bridesmaid at nine prior weddings.
This would be her tenth time. First as Maid of Honor.
And she already knew what would happen. Her friends never meant to cut her out of their lives, but as soon as they got married, she was relegated to low priority. She hadn’t seen Misha for six months. Cheryl had moved to Texas and disappeared. Deb emailed regularly, but Amelia hadn’t actually seen her for nearly a year. She rarely saw any of her old friends more than every few months.
And now she’d be losing her roommate, and her best friend, all on the same day.
❤
Amelia’s niece, Hayley, tugged on her baggy clown costume. “Aunt Amelia, would you please show me a magic trick?”
Why not? It would shake her out of her blue funk. She tugged a red handkerchief from her pocket and stuffed it into her fist. “Okay, cutie. Pull on the red handkerchief.”
Her nephew Brett, nicknamed Bratt Boy, came up to watch.
Amelia turned her hand so that Hayley pulled on the opposite side from what she’d pushed it into. As her niece pulled, the handkerchief turned from red to blue . . . green . . . purple . . . orange.
Hayley gasped and squealed with excitement, and Amelia grinned. The chameleon hanks always succeeded in impressing kids. Best ten-dollar trick ever.
Hayley’s laugh magically lightened Amelia’s heart. She patted the little girl’s head.
Brett was a tougher audience, but he couldn’t hide his smile, especially when I shook hands with him and my hand buzzer gave him a mild, surprising shock. “Cool.”
“Teach me how to do that trick,” Hayley begged.
“You know I can’t give away my clown secrets,” Amelia said.
“Ahh.” Hayley pouted.
Amelia chuckled. “Maybe next time.”
“It’s like you have superpowers or something,” said Brett. “Like Superman or Spiderman or something.”
“That’d be Spiderwoman to you, my adorable Bratt Boy.”
When her mother went into the kitchen, Amelia followed her. She was not surprised at all that her mother had prepared a feast--veggies and dip, chips and salsa, sandwiches, even chocolate cake. “How much notice did Stacy give you for this impromptu announcement party?”
Her mother laughed. “Oh, about two hours.”
“You’re incredible,” Amelia said. “It’s like your own magic trick. Pulling food out of a hat. I wish I had your gift. There’s nothing you can’t do.”
“Oh, yes, there is.” Her mother sighed. “The real magic trick would be getting your father to church. I wish I had that gift.”
Amelia stifled a sigh. She didn’t want to hear this again. Her father was a great guy. A great dad. He’d been baptized at age eight, but quit going to church in his twenties, shortly after he married her mom, and never returned. He always encouraged his family to go, but that had never been enough for her mother.
Or her sisters, who hadn’t had their father at their temple weddings, only their mother.
To be totally honest, that had never been enough for Amelia, either.
And she’d never understood why her parents hadn’t married in the temple to begin with. They’d had a civil wedding so Grandma Larson could see her daughter get married. But the reason for not also having a temple wedding was shrouded in the mists of time and neither parent wanted to go there.
As the doorbell rang, Amelia thought of the checklist she had at home. She’d written it up five years ago, determined to avoid the type of disappointment her mother had experienced, and she was still searching for the perfect man.
Good looking would be nice. Preferably taller than she. But those were the optional items. Definitely required was a returned missionary. Active. Temple-attending. Strong family ethics.
She was going to create her life exactly the way she wanted it. And, basically, she wanted a guy with all the good qualitites of her dad--only a man who also went to church and the temple.
“Here you are,” Stacy said, laughing. “Jim and I have someone we want you to meet. He’s a friend of Jim’s and he’s just arrived.”
This day just kept getting better and better. Stacy was going to introduce her to a guy while she was in her clown costume and grease paint. She didn’t have a chance unless the guy had a great sense of humor. Which was also on her list, by the way.
Amelia turned. Standing next to her friend was a guy she hadn’t seen before.
He was at least six inches taller than Amelia. He had a garment line dipping around his chest, so he’d been to the temple. She vaguely noticed these things before being drawn in by the darkest, warmest brown eyes she’d ever seen.
If she were Spiderwoman, as Bratt Boy had said, her spider senses had just started tingling. Down her arms. Down her legs. Up her spine. Wow.
She’d never been this attracted to a guy before.
And she was dressed as a clown.
Yes, Heavenly Father had a sense of humor. Anyone denying that fact just wasn’t looking hard enough. But there was nothing she could do about it now except just make the best of it.
