Authors: Fiona Lowe
He crooked one brow and shot her the same
I
don’t think so
look he gave her every time she suggested he do something.
She pushed on. “I was thinking of drawing up a schedule along the lines of who does what. Obviously you’re going to get out of dish detail and wood chopping.”
His lazy gaze rolled over her. “I figured you do everything and I’d watch.”
Again the same prickle of awareness tingled at the base of her spine, stealing her concentration. No man had ever done that to her, not even Jonathon. Especially not Jonathon.
Stay focused.
“We need to go grocery shopping so we’ll do that now before driving back to the house.”
He looked at her as if she’d suggested they eat slime. “
You
do the grocery shopping. I’m going to see Red.”
“Who’s Red?”
“My bike.”
She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “But your motorcycle’s back at the house.”
“That one was loaned to me. Red’s at the mechanic’s waiting for repairs. Pick me up there when you’re ready.”
Before she could object or offer up a different arrangement that didn’t mean she was his domestic slave and at his beck and call, he’d commenced walking up the street. The straightness of his spine making it absolutely clear there was no invitation for her to join him.
Shoving her pen and notebook back into her purse, she decided that the groceries could wait. If Ben could just take off and do what he wanted, so could she. Right now she had a hankering to reacquaint herself with Whitetail.
It was a short walk from the hospital to Main Street. Baskets of brightly colored flowers hung from the old-fashioned lampposts and flags printed with the photo of a young couple gazing at each other fluttered in the light breeze. As she’d seen the banner welcoming the Uebelacker wedding, she figured the photo on the flags belonged to the bride and groom. The town looked fresher than she remembered, with stores having bright, new canvas awnings over their doors and most had a personalized greeting for the happy couple in their windows.
The town was busy but unlike when she’d last been here and the sidewalk had been filled with vacationers in flip-flops, today there was a hustle and bustle of women dressed in pretty frocks and men in suits. She overheard someone asking, “What time do we have to be at the church?”
Amy wondered at the choice of a morning wedding. Up until just recently, she’d always thought a late-afternoon wedding followed by an evening reception would be what she’d choose should she ever marry. Her plan, which she’d devised on that long ago vacation in Whitetail, had always been
not
to marry before thirty. She’d achieved that far more easily than her teenage self might have imagined.
She passed Whitetail’s Market and Video, and Whitetail’s Bait, Tackle and Beer, laughing at the combinations that made up each business. Even the funeral home had a sign that read, Keys Cut Here. She paused outside the Northern Lights Boutique, her gaze instantly caught by the gorgeous winter coat on display. She needed a new coat and this one—vivid watermelon with large funky buttons and a crossover collar—might just be it. It looked like wool and her fingers itched to touch the fabric and savor the feel.
A skitter of excitement spun through her. In her frugal teen and student days, she’d made a lot of her own clothes and had always loved choosing the fabric and the exhilaration of making the first cut. It had been years since she’d done any sewing, having stopped the moment she’d got her first job as a lawyer and an accompanying income.
You’re out of a job now.
You shouldn’t be spending money.
But after the soul-destroying events of yesterday, she needed to treat herself and she rationalized that she had severance pay so she was hardly destitute. Not yet, anyway. Pulling open the door, she stepped inside and heard a gut-wrenching wail.
“This is supposed to be my special day and just look at me.” A woman in a bridal gown sobbed as she pulled at the sagging bodice. “I’m going to kill Chad.”
A woman, who Amy assumed was the bride’s mother, held another gown in her hands, ineffectually dabbing at what looked like a black ink stain. “It was an accident, darling.”
“I know it was,” the bride said resignedly, “but why did it have to happen today?”
Another woman, who looked to be in her thirties, appeared from the back of the store holding two transparent dress bags across her arms. “I’ve got two more dresses you can try on, Brianna, only they’re the same size as the one you’re wearing.”
“But that’s no help,” the bride moaned. “They’ll be too big as well.”
Amy had just reached the coat rack as the worried-looking sales associate said to her, “Are you okay to browse? It’s just we have a crisis here and I won’t be able to assist you for a while.”
“That’s okay. I’m not in a hurry,” Amy said, realizing with a jolt she’d not uttered those words in years. She’d been in a hurry since she was fourteen.
You still need to be in a hurry.
You have to sort out your job.
Your life.
And she would. Just not today.
As she rifled through the racks in the small store, she couldn’t help but overhear the drama-filled conversation about the bridal gown.
“Surely there’s a dressmaker in town who could help us, Melissa?” the mother of the bride asked the sales associate.
Melissa wrung her hands. “Annette’s out of town at the moment visiting her daughter in Oshkosh.”
“Oh, God.” The bride’s breathing suddenly got faster and shallower, the little gasps audible in the small space. “This is so unfair. I had the perfect dress and now...” Tears poured down her face. “Look at me. I look like I’m playing dress-up in someone else’s gown.” Her voice rose to a quivering howl. “I have to be at the church in an hour.”
Melissa thrust a box of tissues into her hands and patted her back.
“What if we pulled up the organza and used a material rose to cover the stain?” the bride’s mother suggested, not sounding very hopeful.
“Mom, it’s gone right through to the silk.”
Amy had long stopped looking at coats, having totally tuned in to the fraught conversation. She studied the slim bride who was wearing a gown with a stunningly beaded and ruched bodice. A full skirt of Thai silk fell from her hips and the top layer was gathered up on the right and held in place with organza flowers.
She ran an out-of-practice eye over the options. “I might be able to help.”
The bride swung around to her, surprise and hope clear on her face. “Really? Are you a dressmaker?”
“Actually, I’m a lawyer but I used to make a lot of my own clothes. Granted, it’s been a while but—” she fingered the silk, “—this skirt’s so full, if I gathered it here and relocated one of those organza flowers no one is going to notice.” She turned the bride around. “A padded bra will fill the bodice and—” she flicked the shoulder straps off Brianna’s shoulders so that they rested against the tops of her arms. The crystal beads glinted under the lights as if saying, look at all this beautiful smooth and tanned skin. “—if you wear the straps like this, I can hide a tuck with beads and it’s going to fit. I think the dress says, gorgeous and sexy. What do you think?”
Brianna’s expression was half hope and half despair. “I don’t know but at this point I’m willing to try anything.”
“Do you have a sewing machine here?” Amy asked the sales associate.
“Yes, in the back room. Annette often works from here doing alterations for me. I’ve also got bridal lingerie so while you’re working on the dress, I can get Brianna fitted with the bra.” Pure relief skated across her face. “I’m Melissa, by the way, and I own the shop. Thank you so much for helping.”
“No problem. I’m Amy.”
As Amy concentrated on pinning a gather, another woman wearing a similar black suit to Amy’s rushed in holding what looked like a toolbox in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other.
“I came as soon as I got your message, Brianna. I have every stain-removal product under the sun and, oh—” She stopped short.
“This is Nicole,” Melissa said by way of introduction. “She’s our wedding planner, our hair and makeup expert, and general troubleshooter.” She turned to Nicole. “Amy just happened to be in the store and she thinks she can adjust this gown to fit which is just as well because the other dress is ruined.”
Nicole visibly relaxed. “That’s wonderful. What can I do to help?”
Amy took the pins out of her mouth. “I’m fine but I think Brianna needs some TLC, a glass of champagne and a makeup do-over.”
“I’m on it.” Nicole hurried over as Amy unzipped the dress. “We’ll have you looking glowing and gorgeous again in no time.”
“But what if Amy can’t make it work?” Brianna worried her engagement ring. “No offense but...”
Amy understood. “None taken. I have a bit of a perfectionist streak so I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t think I could do it.”
Brianna stepped out of the dress and quickly slid her arms into the robe Nicole held up. “My wedding day wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
Nicole patted her shoulder. “It’s going to be fine. When I married Tony, he and every guy under seventy arrived late to the church. All of them were dirty and grimy, having rushed straight from battling a big fire out at the mill. We got married and Tony was too scared to touch me in case he made my dress dirty.”
She got a dreamy expression on her face. “I didn’t care. The photos are of the most unusual wedding party ever and I love them. It’s kinda cool having a wedding no one will forget.” She poured two glasses of champagne and handed them to the bride and her mother. “Even if Dylan has to wait a little while longer than he expected, he’ll be in awe of how beautiful you are.”
“And at how I’ve gone up two bra sizes.” Brianna gave a brittle laugh as she looked at the padded and lift bra that Melissa held up.
“Honey, he’s going to love the cleavage this bra gives you,” Melissa said with a wide smile. “Not to mention the added benefit of all that see-through lace.”
Brianna’s mother nodded with a smile as she sipped her champagne. “And there’s your silver lining.”
“Mom!” Brianna flushed bright pink.
Amy hid her smile behind the acres of silk and followed Melissa into the back room and the sewing machine. She wanted to kiss the absent Annette when she saw the vast array of threads. Pulling out the chair, she got to work.
* * *
“Oh. My. God.” Brianna stared at herself in the mirror while Amy quickly hand-stitched an organza flower in place. “You’re a miracle worker.”
Amy couldn’t help the wide smile that split her face as she smoothed down the gown. Brianna looked amazing. Nicole had redone her makeup and the super-lift bra had done its job and then some. Combined with the come-hither off-the-shoulder look, Brianna looked both demure and sexy. “You look amazing. Your groom’s going to think the wait was worth it.”
“We really need to leave now,” Brianna’s mother said, hurrying her daughter. “Your dad’s waiting in the carriage.”
Everyone walked outside and a man Nicole called Al, who was dressed in a coachman’s uniform and wearing a top hat, handed Brianna up into the carriage next to her father.
Amy gathered up the full skirt, tucking it safely inside the carriage away from the large wheels. “Good luck,” she said, feeling both exhilarated and slightly sad that the drama was over. She’d enjoyed using her hands again to create something tangible rather than using them to type up contracts.
“Thank you so much,” Brianna said, waving goodbye as Al instructed the horses to move on.
“Amy,” Melissa said, opening the door of the store. “Come in and have a thank-you glass of champagne.”
Amy automatically looked at her watch, slightly askance. “But it’s only eleven.”
Melissa laughed. “I could give you coffee but you just saved Whitetail’s Weddings That Wow’s reputation that we give the bride and groom everything they need. You deserve to celebrate. I have waffles so we can call it brunch if that’s less horrifying, but I have to say, champagne is good at any time of the day or night.”
For the past few years, Amy had spent Saturdays working and the idea of champagne before noon seemed decadent.
Try it.
It’s not like you have anything to lose seeing you’ve lost everything anyway.
“Sure. Why not?” She stepped into the store.
After eating waffles and an indecent amount of divine Wisconsin cream, Amy tried on the coat and purchased it. As Melissa wrapped it in tissue paper, she picked up Brianna’s ruined dress, running the acres of fine organza through her fingers. “This is the most beautiful gown.”
“It is. She had it made in Minneapolis, but as it turned out she would have been better organizing the dress through me. I keep them safe and far away from two-year-olds with permanent markers,” Melissa said with a slight grimace.
“I’m trying to build the wedding gown part of my business but many brides believe they can get a cheaper dress from China.” She sighed. “When the dress arrives half-finished or not fitting properly, then they jump on the phone and beg me for help in getting it fixed or they end up buying a gown from me. I’ve taken to advertising that I have a dressmaker on hand for any last-minute hiccups as an added incentive for brides to buy through me. Thank goodness you were in town today to save the day.”
Amy smiled remembering how much fun she’d had despite the stress. “I was happy to help.”
“Would you be able to help out again if I needed it?”
“I’m not a qualified dressmaker and I don’t even know how long I’m even going to be in town.”
“Please?” Melissa begged. “Just as a backup while Annette’s away.”
It’s not like you’ve got anything else to do with your time.
Excuse me
,
but you have a new job to find.
The idea of finding a new job terrified her because it would beg the question from future employers: Why did you leave M.M. Enterprises?
“Sure, why not.”
Seriously?
You really should
—
Amy pulled the wedding gown up against her to shut out the argument in her head and she gazed at it in the full-length mirror. The thought of being a bride hadn’t really crossed her radar. She’d been far too busy climbing the career ladder with the intention of shattering the glass ceiling. Now that ceiling had fallen in on her.