The Best Laid Plans

Words 1928


‘It’s going to be perfect, Mum. Can you believe it’s only four weeks away?’ Tara’s eyes were wide with excitement. ‘I’ve checked the long range weather forecast, they’re saying, mid-twenties. Wouldn’t that be perfect?’

Sheila nodded, smiling. ‘It would, sweetheart. Let’s keep our fingers crossed, eh? October can be a bit fickle, weather wise.’

‘Yes, but spring is delightful in the valley, isn’t it?’

Her mother nodded, happy her daughter had found someone as down-to-earth as Greg. Sometimes Tara needed a steadying influence.

‘Savannah and Amy have their bridesmaid dresses fitting this afternoon, Tara frowned. ‘I’m a bit worried about Sav, I reckon she’s put weight on since she was first measured.’

‘The bridal shop will be able to let it out if she has.’

‘It’s a bit selfish of her though, don’t you think? After all, alterations cost money.’ Tara paused before adding, ‘she doesn’t even like the colour. She told Amy.’

‘She’s probably just a little jealous, love. After all, she’s seen your wedding dress and you’re going to look like an angel.’

‘Yes, you’re probably right. It’s gorgeous isn’t it? It was worth all the money, and the time spent finding the perfect dress.’

‘Oh, my God don’t remind me!’ Sheila laughed. ‘How many did you try on before you found the one?’

‘I know I was a bit of a pain but you have to admit the dress is just perfect. Greg and the groomsmen are going to look wonderful too. Although trying to get that exact same green for their ties as the bridesmaid’s dresses was almost impossible.’

‘Is Greg happy with the suits?’

‘Mum, he doesn’t care. He says he’s sick of talking about the wedding.’ For a few seconds, the excitement vanished from Tara’s face.

‘Is he okay?’

‘I guess so. He seems a bit distracted lately, distant,’ She lowered her voice. ‘He’s even lost interest in sex.’

‘Is he worried about the cost of the wedding?’ Sheila wouldn’t have been surprised, even though she and Tara’s father were contributing a big amount of money, there were all the extras their daughter insisted on having.

‘Perhaps. But he was all for a big wedding when we first began to organise it, six months ago.’

‘Don’t worry, he’s probably just got pre-wedding jitters.’

‘Maybe, but I wish he’d take more of an interest. I keep trying to pin him down to decide on the menu, but he just says, ‘you’re better at that sort of thing.’

‘I’ll help you, love. What are the options?’

‘Thanks Mum. Well for the entrée…


Sheila fumbled in her nurse’s uniform pocket when she felt her phone vibrate. She wasn’t really supposed to take private calls at work, but Tara had said she’d call if she needed her today. ‘Hi, Tara,’ she said, her voice lowered as to not disturb her sleeping patient.

‘Mum! I need you to come with me tonight to the wedding venue appointment. I need to finalise some decisions tonight.’

‘Is something wrong?’

‘It’s Greg. He says he’s too sick to go.’

‘What’s up with him? Sheila asked, before adding, ‘Although I must say I thought he seemed quiet yesterday when you came over for lunch.’

‘I dunno, Mum. I think he doesn’t care about the details. But they’re important, aren’t they?’ She pleaded, ‘I mean there’s the music yet to be decided on, and the bridal waltz! ‘ She sounded overwhelmed by the tasks.

‘It’ll be fine, sweetheart, calm down. There’s plenty of time to sort everything out. Just relax. I’ll come with you after my shift.’


The wedding venue was a vineyard in the Valley, located on a gently winding road, near the upper reaches of the Swan River. The picturesque setting, nestled amongs the grapevines, was the ideal venue for Tara’s and Greg’s wedding. Tara had chosen October specifically to ensure the thousands of vines would be showing their vibrant green foliage. There were no details Tara hadn’t thought of. They arrived there just as the sun was beginning to set.


‘Mum! Tara grabbed Sheila’s hand. This is what it will be like when the speeches are being made. Isn’t the light gorgeous?’ Sheila had to agree. It was a beautiful setting for such a special occasion. They stood on the balcony and looked down the verdant green lawn to where dozens of red velvet chairs were being placed around the wedding gazebo in readiness for a wedding the following day.

Tara decided to have a cellist playing classical music while everyone was busy finding their tables for the reception, followed by a DJ for the dancing afterwards. Thankfully the events manager was going to organise it all.

‘What do you think, Mum. These ones?’ They were selecting the covers for the dining chairs from an album of photographs.

‘Whatever you choose, it’ll be gorgeous, sweetheart.’

‘Oh, that’s why I needed Greg to be here! There are so many little details to think of!’

‘He won’t care, Tara, he’ll only have eyes for you.’ Sheila wanted to take away the anxiety clouding her daughter’s face.

***

‘I’m having an early night, I’m knackered.’ Greg yawned and stood up from the sofa where they’d been watching, Married at First Sight.

‘Oh, no. Really? I thought we’d go over a few details about the wedding.’

‘Haven’t we done enough talking about the bloody wedding, Tara?’

She swiped away tears of frustration. ‘What’s wrong with you lately, Greg?’

He rounded on her. ‘I’m sick to death of hearing about dresses, seating plans and bloody bonbons for Christ sake. Who care if someone’s Aunty can’t sit next to a long lost cousin?’ Greg’s voice became almost a yell. ‘The whole thing is just one expensive disaster after another.’ The look on his face was one Tara had never seen before, a mixture of anger, tinged with abject misery.


The following week was fraught with unresolved tensions. Greg refused to discuss his outburst, insisting there was nothing wrong – he was just tired, that was all, and ‘Yes, of course he still loved her. Yes, of course he still wanted to get married.’

***

Savannah, the chief bridesmaid, had insisted on organising the hens night, but kept the details to herself, swearing Amy to secrecy.

‘It’ll be great, Tara, we’ll have a ball, I promise.’

‘Just give me a hint, Sav. Remember, I don’t want to drink too much the night before the wedding.’

‘That’s fine, we’ll be doing other stuff, besides drinking.’ Savannah promised.

‘You know I usually like to organise things myself.’

‘Yeah, Tara, everyone knows you’re a bit of a control freak.’ Savannah tempered this remark by giving her a hug. ‘But I want to do this for you. For asking me to be your Matron of Honour.’ Tara felt uneasy relinquishing all control over her party, but Savannah insisted. ‘I’ve got this babe, It’s going to be iconic.’

‘The luxury party bus,’ Savannah had bragged about turned out to be a school bus, complete with a grumpy driver named Carl, who refused to turn on any music. The group of girls, dressed to the nines in sparkly dresses and high heeled shoes, sat in disappointed silence on the way into the city. Savannah apologised for the mix up with the booking.
‘I’m so sorry, Tara, I can’t explain how it happened. But you’ll love what I’ve organised for us.’ The bus pulled up outside a bar on James Street in the city. The downcast mood lightened as they poured into the intimate venue, where they were welcomed by a chatty, good looking barman.

‘Welcome girls. Where’s the beautiful bride to be? Tara I believe? ‘Tara was shoved to the front of the group. ‘A special cocktail for the bride before we begin the mixology class.’

‘Ooh, thank you.’ Tara smiled, the evening was beginning to look better.

‘Make hers extra strong.’ Savannah whispered to the barman. ‘It’s her last night of freedom, after all.’

After a couple of cocktails on an empty stomach, Tara was feeling very tipsy. They all enjoyed learning to mix the exotic drinks but In the crush around the bar, Savannah accidentally nudged the bride-to-be’s drink.

‘Whoops! I’m so sorry, babe.’ Bright green liquid soaked into Tara’s new white dress.
Savannah made a futile effort to clean it, dabbing with a napkin, trying to downplay the accident by saying, ‘This green is just about the same shade as the bridesmaids’ dresses.’ A few minutes later, she took a photo of a tipsy Tara with her green stained dress and secretly sent it to Greg, with the comment. Look at your future wife. She’s a mess!

The evening, as far as Tara was concerned was a disaster. The restaurant had no record of the booking, and being a Friday night, a take away falafel was what they finished up with. The rest of the party seemed to enjoy a night out on the town, but it worried Tara that this was a bad omen and the wedding, despite all her detailed planning, would also turn out to be a disaster.

***

The weather forecasters had been right for once, the day of the wedding was perfect – sunny with white fluffy cloud and a light breeze. As Tara dressed at her parents’ house, the place was a hive of activity. The hairdresser had arrived in plenty of time to do Tara’s hair, as well as Sheila’s and the bridesmaids’. The doorbell never seemed to stop ringing. The makeup artist came with her bag of magic to ensure the wedding party looked the best they would ever look.

‘The florist’s here!’ Tara’s father yelled up the stairs.

‘Ok, Dad,’ Tara shouted back down, ‘make sure they know the buttonholes for the groomsmen need delivering to the guys. They’ve got the address - Greg, his brothers and the best man were all getting ready at a nearby hotel. Tara hoped his stag do had turned out better than her pre-wedding celebration.

Soon everyone left to go to the venue, leaving Tara alone with her dad.

‘You look amazing, sweetheart.’ Her father kissed his daughter on the cheek before lowering her veil. ‘Are you ready?’

Savannah, Amy, Tara and her dad, stood waiting for the music especially chosen by the bride. The maid of honour passed the bouquet to the bride and adjusted the exquisite gown and veil, before the two bridesmaids began the slow walk down the paved path which led to the white gazebo which was thoughtfully decorated with glorious, native spring flower arrangements. Tara followed on her father’s arm, smiling to all her friends and family seated on either side.

Something that hadn’t been planned for was happening though. Savannah had carried on walking up to the groom and his best man. She whispered something in Greg’s ear. His face drained of colour, then blushed, bright red. His smile of welcome and joy at seeing his beautiful bride, faded. Savannah stepped back to her place next to Amy, who seemed as puzzled as everyone else there. As Tara reached her place next to her soon-to-be husband, he whispered to her. ‘I’m sorry.’ Then he walked over to Savannah and took her hand. Her raised eyebrows and slight shake of her head when she looked over at Tara, followed by what can only be described as a smirk, caused even more confusion for the obviously jilted bride, and for the rest of the congregation.

Three little words – ‘I’m pregnant, Greg’ – were all it took to derail Tara’s endless, painstaking efforts. She’d just missed one tiny detail. Greg had been cheating on her with her best friend.


Quote Prompt for February 2025:

"The devil is in the details."
— Proverb












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