It was our parents. He silenced his and Ipicked mine up. It was my mother. "Brad, where the fuck are you?" "At abar," I lied. "Is Andrew with you..." "No of course not" I lied again. Itold her I would be back in an hour. I hung up the phone and we bothhurried to get whatever clothes on we could that were still somewhatwearable. We saw a gas station in the distance that looked open so wewalked hand in hand over to it. We asked for directions to the hotel andthe cashier didn't know so we. Maybe she was giddy about seeing me in wedding gowns.Well, it was a giddy experience for me too. Mom hadpicked out seven little numbers for me: a satinstrapless A-line with a beaded split front; the samegown, but with detailed hand beading at the neck,waist and hem; and embroidered cafe lace jacket withhand beading over elegant satin A-line (what was shethinking on that one?); a satin halter A-line with aflower at waist and a sweep train (tempting); a satinmolded bodice with hand- beaded trim. More

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