She's Out of Control

Author:Kristin Billerbeck
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook, book
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

17

This is Jen Jenkins reporting from Telecopter Seven at the wedding of Indian Princess Ashley Stockingdale.”

The studio’s Rick Ramirez breaks in with a Spanish-accented laugh. “Now, Jen, she isn’t really an Indian princess.”

“No, but the Indian people have certainly grown to love her here in Punjab. She’s had her traditional ritual bath with herbs, and she should be emerging shortly. Her groom, Seth Greenwood, waits with visible anticipation.”

A roar from the gathering crowd rises, and Ashley appears to her fans. “Ashley’s arriving now. Oh, look at her, in the traditional red wedding gown and her hair gold-leafed. She’s magnificent. We’ve been told even her raw silk shoes, designed by Giuseppe Zanotti, are topped with handmade beaded uppers by Indian craftsmen. She is, indeed, a sight to behold. Our sources here tell us she has followed all sixteen traditional accoutrements of an Indian wedding, from the Bindi forehead dot to a perfume created especially for her.”

“What’s the groom’s reaction, Jen? Can you see his expression?”

“The groom appears to be inspired, Rick. His mouth is agape, and he’s watching mesmerized as Ashley walks to his side. Although the wedding will follow traditional Christian vows, there’s nothing traditional about this wedding, Rick. Back to you in the studio.”

I wake startled and unnerved. An Indian princess? Why do my dreams make me so pathetic? I can’t even dream normally.

It’s Monday morning. Three dogs and a baby. Wasn’t that a movie? I think about calling in sick, but I can’t do that. Hans gave me that hefty bonus for traveling because I was reliable. I sigh and do what any smart-thinking career girl in Silicon Valley would do. I pack up the crew. I’ve found a cage for the back of the car, and I’ve got everyone’s leashes.

Once I pack up all the supplies baby Miles might need this side of eternity, I get into the car. I realize that everyone looks great. The dogs are fed, the baby is cleaned and dressed-to-the-nines in a little navy Tommy Hilfiger outfit I bought him, and I’m feeling downright accomplished. But I take a gander in the rearview mirror and realize not only am I sans makeup, but my hair is sticking straight out and Brea’s tiny shirt is stretched to capacity across my chest. I look like an unkempt streetwalker.

“I’ve got to stop at home,” I explain to all my occupants, who, of course, don’t understand a word. We drive across town and once at my house, I realize the only way to do this is to bring everyone inside. Because Rhett can’t be trusted with upholstery. I bring the baby, his stroller to sit in, and all the dogs follow me to the front porch. Lucy and Ricky can’t get up the steps, so I have to open the stroller, put the brake on, set Miles in his seat belt, and lift the dogs physically. Mean-while, Rhett is giving Miles a tongue bath.

“Ack! Get off the baby, Rhett.” I finally open the door.

Kay’s gone, but her disapproving presence remains.

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