Father of the Bride

By Jennifer Dione

25 year old Nayely is getting married in three months. Her aunt has every detail of the wedding planned. Her fiancé couldn't be more excited. Her bestfriend, although skeptical, is on board. The only thing she is missing is someone to give her away. After months of searching she has finally found her biological fathers information. Now all she has to do is convince the strange man to walk her down the aisle.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blackberry Publishing
• Release date: Oct 14, 2018
• ISBN: 9780998831824

Jennifer Dione

Jennifer Dione is the owner, founder, & debut author of Blackberry Publishing. What began as a love of reading and story telling has now developed into her very first book baby Father of the Bride. With another, Blackberry Moon, in the oven. She lives, works, and writes in Las Vegas with her four boys, & boyfriend.

Book preview

Chapter 1 

When most people think of the word father there is an image in their head of a man who helped to raise them and grow them into the people they are now. When I think of the word father I draw a blank. But somehow, I had found him. Despite having only a nickname and an approximate age. After nearly a year I now had a full name and a number. I never missed having a father growing up, but now I felt different. It was missing. I’ve always had my Auntie Yaya who raised me since I was a newborn baby but other than that we were on our own. My aunt was educated and outgoing. She worked for the State of New York before retiring early due to her desire to travel freely. I went to an expensive private school and graduated from a prestigious Historically Black University. Even without my missing parents I had grown up a respectable young girl, my aunt proudly took all the credit. Now I lived in an apartment in Dumbo, Brooklyn my aunt paid for and she owned a lavish home in SOHO, Manhattan. We spoke daily and I tried my best to visit a-mist my hectic schedule working as an intern at an engineering firm in the city and going to graduate school at Columbia University. I always made time for Yaya.  

Today we were meeting in the city and I was nervous, I hadn't decided if I was going to bring my father up. I hate to keep things from her and I know the minute she saw me she will know that something was up. She knows me, better than I know myself, she says. Yaya pulled up in her cherry red Benz. She was dressed in a sky-blue shin length pencil skirt, with a smart white blouse and a long tan trench coat that hung off her hips and ruffled slightly in the October wind. 

Auntie! I gave her a hug and quick kiss on the cheek. 

I missed you. She held on longer than needed. 

It's cold, let's go. I said breaking our embrace. 

The building was all brick with a large black sign above the tall wooden double doors. Fancy writing spelled out Mark Ingram Atelier, one of the most exclusive bridal shops in the city. Yaya had made the reservation a year ago when my fiancé proposed. In fact, she had immediately gone about hiring a wedding planner, she had even secretly worked with my fiancé to plan the proposal. I was so grateful for the perfectly timed and beautifully captured photograph of the moment. His tall athletic body folded before me, one knee on the ground. His head bowed and when he came up, his outstretched hand held the most beautiful ring. That day his signature blinding smile was more adorable than ever before. I laughed as I jumped in his arms and he swooped my tiny body into the air. I said yes as soon as our lips unlocked. Today the memory seemed so far away but the framed pictures in my apartment reminded me daily. Now, with less than three months until the wedding, everything was planned out. I had already chosen my gown and today was my first fitting. As we checked in at the lobby Yaya caught me up on things like flowers, wines, seating and how she was so missing the weather in Dubai this time of year. I told her how my job at the engineering firm was running me ragged, how my brain and back hurt from all the statistic exams my professor was giving me, and that even though Omar was out of town on business he had still thought to send a masseuse to my apartment. She smiled and reminded me how lucky I was and then the bridal shop attendant came in with the gown. A beautiful charmeuse & organza number with a form fitting mermaid cut, a plunging neck line & crystals dripping from the chiffon train. I had fallen in love with this dress and to this day couldn't believe my aunt agreed to buy it after seeing the price tag. She didn't even hesitate and paid for it in full the same day. The attendant asked if we needed anything else, my aunt asked for water and I thanked her as she left. 

OK, OK. Hurry up and put it on, you better not have gained weight since you got measured, you still aren't pregnant right. 

I rolled my eyes, Auntie, I'm still a virgin. 

She laughed at me, I still don't believe that. 

I stripped down to my underwear which I had chosen carefully because my aunt would definitely make fun of mismatched or granny underwear. Plus, I was trying on my wedding gown. I wanted feel like a grown woman. Whether my auntie believed it or not I was a virgin, but I definitely felt sexy. Just not in the way that made me want to jump my fiancé's bones. Omar was no virgin but had waited for me for nine years. He lost his virginity at 15, I couldn't even have a boyfriend until I was 16. He asked me to be his girlfriend at my 16th birthday party in front of everyone we knew, including the first girl he had ever slept with. I said yes, the same way I did when he asked me to marry him. He gave me a necklace with a heart shaped pendant on it and two, very small but also real, diamonds on it. Omar had saved for it working at the supermarket and was so proud. He was raised by a single dad with five boys, so Omar worked to buy himself things his dad couldn't afford after paying all the bills and feeding all the boys every month. That was one thing Omar and I shared, we both missed our mother's. My hand traced the heart of the necklace that I still wore today. My aunt let me daydream like I tended to do and before I knew it she had me all snapped and zipped up into my gown. 

Wow! The attendant had stepped back into the dressing room after a quick rap on the door holding the glass of water Yaya had asked for. 

My aunt came around to the front of me and her eyes immediately began to water. She covered her mouth with her hand. 

Don't cry Auntie. I said feigning irritation. 

But.  Was all she could say before covering her mouth this time with both hands. 

I stepped to the side so that I could see myself fully in the mirror. The white was stunning on my chestnut brown skin, I loved how the sweetheart neckline left my shoulders bare. I stared at the necklace, my aunt had begged me not to wear it on my wedding day and had tried to bribe me with all sorts of morbidly expensive jewelry sets. I couldn't be persuaded, I planned to wear the necklace as my something old. 

Wow.  I was stunned at how perfectly the dresses fit me. 

It was one thing to see a floor gown pinned on to you but to see one made just for you. I couldn’t blink. The attendant called the tailor in and she began to nick and tuck the gown fitting it even more snugly to my body. When she was done my aunt asked her if she could give us some privacy. She nodded out and we were alone again. She sipped from her glass and sat it down at the table she was sitting at, eyeing me up and down probably giving the tailors work the once over. 

Nothing needs to be changed on that dress. It fits you like a glove.  She sat there in her seat, her hands folded in her lap, legs crossed, eyes watching me as I couldn't take my eyes off of myself in the mirror. 

She cleared her throat and I knew it was coming. I braced myself for it, closing my eyes. 

Now tell me what’s going on. 

Nothing. I said abruptly, I was a terrible liar which is why I tried my best not to. 

Yely. She didn’t have to say anything, I could read her mind. I know there's something going on. Tell me or I will not leave you alone about it.  

Auntie. 

Don’t ‘Auntie’ me. Is everything OK with you and Omar it's your first fitting, the dress is, just, oh my God, so beautiful, and here you are nearly emotionless.  

Auntie, I did my crying when I found the dress and then again when you agreed to pay for it. I’m all cried out. I need to work up some tears for my wedding or else you be ‘Yely’ing’ me there too. I did my best to mock her concerned tone, she didn't crack a smile or break her poker face one bit. 

Yely, if you don't tell me, I will find out. I'll call your fiancé, I'll call your best friend, I'll call your job, I'll call your professors, all of them.

Auntie stop it! 

Tell me. She leaned back in her chair and took another sip of her water. Come on. 

She started to reach in her bag for her phone. 

OK, OK, OK, OK. I laughed to hide my nervousness. 

I dropped my head and admired my gown. An image of my wedding day filled my mind. An image of me walking down the aisle in my beautiful dress. My handsome and loving groom waiting for me at the altar. My aunt standing up as matron of honor. All of our family and friends watching me walk down the aisle. Alone. I looked up at my aunt who looked more concerned than ever. I only realized that I was crying when a tear dropped splashed onto my dress. Before I could ruin all of my makeup, my dress, and my first fitting for that matter, Yaya suggested we stop by a restaurant nearby and have some brunch. The appointment for the fitting was much too early for my liking anyway. Especially on a Sunday, which was the only day I had off, but I hadn't complained and had dragged myself out of the bed and skipped breakfast just to be on time. I was not only emotional, but also starving. The restaurant we went to was quiet and nearly empty when we arrived. Yaya asked for a glass of wine and an avocado omelet. She was keeping a close eye on me and I tried not to look back as I focused on putting my napkin across my lap and then studied the menu before choosing a Cesar salad with butter lettuce. After the waiter took our orders and menus I turned my attention towards my phone, checking social media, seeing if anyone important had texted me, and checking that no new grades had been posted by any of my professors. 

I really am going to have to pull this out of you, aren't I? I looked up to my aunt laughing in disbelief about how elusive I was trying and failing to be. 

I smiled back and made a face like I really didn't know what she was talking about. 

I’ll just start guessing. 

Auntie, really it's nothing, I think I'm just so overcome with emotion that I'm getting married. & the dress is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen and I can't thank you enough for it, I’m so excited.  

Wow, you sound so fake. Did you and Omar break up? 

No. 

Are you failing? 

No! 

Dropping out? 

No. 

So, what? Are you gay? My aunt leaned in closely with a look of shock that I couldn't tell if it was sincere or mocking. 

Yeah. I said flatly shaking my head at the lengths she would go to get something out of me. Auntie it's nothing you would want to hear about. 

I want to hear about anything that has to do with you. 

OK, but listen auntie I need you to be open minded. I didn't come here to argue with you and I’m not telling you this so you can try to talk me out of it.  

"I’m going to tell you how I feel, however I feel, whether you distinguish that as open minded or not is up