Vintage (37 page)

Authors: Susan Gloss

“So, was it hard to decide against having a big wedding?” Lane asked.

Violet shook her head. She’d had a big wedding once before, back in Bent Creek, with all of her family and friends present. This time around, the small celebration suited her.

“I’ve never really liked fancy ceremonies,” Sam said. “I just hoped I’d be lucky enough one day to find someone to spend my life with and who is willing to put up with me.”

“I am very happy for you,” said Amithi. “But I must admit, if my daughter had gotten married without telling me, I would have been very angry.”

“We called our parents just before the ceremony,” Violet said. “We explained to them that we didn’t invite anyone, so it’s not as if we were leaving them out. We left everyone out—well, besides our two witnesses, who were required by law.”

“How did they take it?” Lane asked.

“They were . . . surprised,” Sam said. “Both of our parents are on their way down from Bent Creek as we speak, so they can celebrate with us tonight.”

“My parents sounded ready to kill me,” Violet added. “They calmed down a bit when I hinted that one of the reasons we were in such a hurry is that we want to have a family. The mere possibility of grandbabies shut them up pretty quickly.”

“And, even though we haven’t dated long, technically I’ve known Violet since high school, even though she didn’t really know who I was.” Sam loosened his black tie. “But, yeah, I’m sure it sounded pretty crazy to our parents. But I’m thirty-nine and Violet’s thirty-eight. We’re not teenagers.”

Lane wagged a finger at Sam. “If you want your marriage to last, I wouldn’t go around telling people your wife’s age.”

“Oh, I don’t care,” Violet said. “The further I get from my teens and twenties, the better.”

“I do not think it matters how long you know someone,” Amithi said in a quiet voice. “What is more important is trust. Without it, a marriage cannot survive.” She reached into her purse and slid a small red pouch across the table.

Violet opened it and sucked in her breath.

“What is it?” April asked.

Violet reached into the box and held up a pair of gold earrings with shining red stones dangling from the ends.

Amithi smiled. “I have been carrying them around in my purse because I meant to take them to the jeweler to sell. But I could not bear the thought of them going to someone I did not know.”

Violet closed the box. “I can’t accept these. They’re too valuable.”

“If you do not accept them, I will be deeply insulted.” Amithi crossed her arms in front of her chest. Then her face softened. “Please, take them.”

Violet put on the earrings.

“They look beautiful on you. My mother would be proud to see you wear them. She and my father have been married for over sixty years. I hope that you, too, will have many years of happiness.” Amithi got up from the table. “Now, I am sorry to have to leave the festivities, but I must go back to the store. I promised to get the dress I am working on to a customer by this evening before I leave town, since I will be gone for quite a while.”

“Have a wonderful trip with your daughter,” said Violet. “The sewing room will still be here for you when you get back.”

“Did I tell you? When I return from India, I am going to New York to take some classes on fashion design. It is something I have always wanted to do but was too busy taking care of my family. I am hoping I can learn to do some of my own designs so that I can make more custom clothing instead of just doing alterations.”

“That’s wonderful,” Violet said. She lowered her voice. “Have you decided what you’re going to do about your husband?”

“We have plans to meet up when I’m in India. He’s going to cook me breakfast. He has been sending me e-mails with pictures of different recipes he’s been trying out.” Amithi grinned. “And, from there, we’ll see. I figure Naveen took three decades to tell me about what happened. The least he can do is give me as much time as I need to sort things out.”

Violet got up and hugged Amithi. “I hope it goes well for you, whatever that might mean,” she said.

“So, Violet,” Lane said after Amithi had left, “I know you’re wearing something old. You always are. And I saw that you’ve got blue bows on your shoes. Do you have something borrowed and something new?”

“Well, technically the dress is borrowed,” Violet said. “Since it’s going right back to the store after today, for someone else to buy and add to its story. Unless you want it, April.”

April shook her head. “Not after the way things turned out last time.”

Charlie’s mouth twisted into a guilty smile. “I know I put you through hell, but things turned out fine eventually, don’t you think?”

April glanced from Charlie to Kate, whom Violet was still holding. “Yes, I suppose they did.”

Lane set down her glass and said, “Okay, so the dress is borrowed, the earrings are old, and there’s blue on your shoes, but what about something new?”

“Do I have to have something new?” Violet asked. “I never wear anything new. Well, besides underwear, and sadly, today I’m wearing a pair I’ve had for a while.” She glanced at Sam. “Sorry, honey.”

Sam just grinned.

“I see something new,” Charlie said.

Violet examined her outfit. “What’s that?”

“Little Kate there, in your lap.”

Violet looked down at the baby, who slept in her arms with her pink lips pursed.

“Does that count?” Lane asked.

“Oh, yes, she counts.” Violet nuzzled the baby’s velvety head and whispered, “And don’t let anyone ever tell you that you don’t, even if you make a thousand mistakes.”

April raised her glass. “To second chances.”

Glasses clinked around the table in the basement bar.

Violet reached out to tap Sam’s glass and caught him admiring her new tattoo. The redness had finally healed, and the blue and green starfish stood out against her pale skin. She was happy with how it had turned out, but she still preferred the old tattoo, and looked down at it now. The phoenix rose, strong and graceful, just below the cap sleeves of her vintage gown.

Acknowledgments

THIS BOOK IS THE
product of many hands. Heartfelt words of love and thanks go to my husband, Bill Parsons, for his patience throughout the process. I also would like to express deep gratitude to my parents, Frank and Kerry Gloss. They encouraged my writing from a young age and, more recently, provided countless hours of childcare, as did my wonderful in-laws, Bill and Peggy Parsons. I could not have written a word if my son had not been so well cared for in the hours I was away. Family is the fabric from which this story was stitched.

Special recognition goes to Christina Hogrebe and her colleagues at the Jane Rotrosen Agency for their expert guidance and advocacy for
Vintage.
I am exceedingly grateful, too, for Rachel Kahan, Trish Daly, and the team at William Morrow. Rachel’s enthusiasm for this project was evident when, before we even spoke over the phone, she purchased a vintage Diane von Furstenberg dress from my online store. I knew then that Rachel would be the perfect editor for Violet, April, and Amithi’s stories.

In addition, I wish to acknowledge my writing groups, the Novellas and the Inkwellians, and especially my critique partner, Rebecca Anderson-Brown. She read more drafts than anyone should be asked to read, quickly and often with little notice. Amy Robb contributed her heavy hand for the delete key, and Kavita Mohan and Padma Shankar gave invaluable insight into the Indian-American experience. Early readers Kori Yelle and Suzan Headley provided perspective from a distance. Kelly Harms shared her knowledge of the another experience, while Nick Wilkes, Autumn Burns, and Corinn Swinson helped me look the part.

Finally, I owe my appreciation to the staff of Barriques café on West Washington, for always letting me finish one last sentence after the lights flashed.

About the Author

PHOTOGRAPH © BY NICK WILKES

SUSAN GLOSS
is a graduate of the University of Notre Dame and the University of Wisconsin Law School. When she’s not writing fiction, Susan can be found working as an attorney, blogging at GlossingOverIt.com, or hunting for vintage treasures for her Etsy shop, Cleverly Curated. She lives with her family in Madison, Wisconsin.

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Credits

COVER DESIGN BY MUMTAZ MUSTAFA

COVER PHOTOGRAPH © BY ANTONIO DE MORAES BARROS FILHO

Copyright

This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

VINTAGE
. Copyright © 2014 by Susan Gloss. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

FIRST EDITION

ISBN 978-0-06-227032-0

EPUB Edition April 2014 ISBN 9780062270344

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