The Perfect Dress

by Brown, Carolyn

  “Budget?” She fidgeted with a notepad.

  “Whatever they want is fine,” he answered.

  “Okay then, let me check the calendar. I don’t think we’ve got any appointments after three today. Do they go to school here in Celeste?”

  “They will in the fall. We only moved here a week ago. My sister is a teacher at the school here. Alice Harrison. Maybe you know her?” he said.

  “Yes, I do,” Mitzi said. “You probably don’t remember me. I was a freshman when you graduated right here in Celeste.”

  “I thought you looked familiar.” He nodded. “But I couldn’t place you.”

  “I’ll take a peek at my calendar. You wait right here.” For a tall, big woman, she moved gracefully to the next room and returned in only a few seconds. “I’m free at three thirty. Will you be bringing them?”

  “Thank you!” He let out a whoosh of air he hadn’t even known he was holding inside and stood. “We only live a couple of houses down, so they’ll walk here on their own. Do I give you a down payment today?”

  “No, we’ll see how things go, and then I’ll work up a total price for the materials and labor. If you agree and sign a contract, then we’ll get busy sewing up the dresses,” she answered.

  “Sounds fantastic to me.” He handed her a business card. “You can reach me there or leave a message, and I’ll get right back to you. You wouldn’t believe how many places we’ve been trying to find what they need, and all the time you were right here.”

  “That’s the way it goes.” She put the business card in her hip pocket.

  Graham couldn’t wait to get home.

  When he did, the girls were already sitting at the table, eating leftover lasagna from supper the night before. Dixie looked up with a quizzical expression as he walked in.

  “You have a three-thirty appointment at The Perfect Dress. Turns out I went to school with the owner. She’ll be nice to you. Got any of that lasagna left?”

  Tabby beamed. “That’s great, Daddy. There’s one more helping. And I made brownies this morning, so we have dessert.”

  Graham’s mind wasn’t really on food—it was on Mitzi’s blue eyes and that gorgeous red hair. Why hadn’t he ever noticed her when they were in school?

  Chapter Two

  Mitzi rushed back to the sewing room, where the hum of two sewing machines filled the air. “Graham Harrison just came in the shop to set up an appointment for his two daughters. He said they only live a few houses up the street from us. He looked like a bull in a china shop sitting on that pink sofa. And of course he didn’t even recognize me, but I sure knew him the minute I laid eyes on him.”

  At the mention of that name from the past, work jolted to a halt.

  “Yoo-hoo!” Fanny Lou yelled from the kitchen into the sudden silence. “Y’all in the sewing room?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Mitzi leaned out the door and hollered.

  “I’ve got homemade cookies. Y’all already had dinner?”

  Jody stopped her machine and headed toward the kitchen with Mitzi and Paula right behind her. “Where did the morning go? I’m starving.”

  “No wonder,” Paula said. “All you ever eat is salad and vegetables.”

  “And you’d be healthier if you did the same,” Jody told her.

  “But we all eat cookies, so that unites us, right?” Mitzi said.

  “I bought ’em at the church bake sale, but Edna Green made them, and she makes the best in town.” Fanny Lou removed plastic wrap from a paper plate of peanut butter cookies. “Guess what I heard today. Graham Harrison moved down the street from y’all.”

  The phone rang and Mitzi picked it up, grateful to have a moment to collect her thoughts about Graham living so close. “The Perfect Dress. How can I help you?”

  “This is Rayford Thompson from the Dallas Bridal Fair. We’d like to notify you that you’ve moved up on the alternative list. So if someone drops out, you will be contacted to fill that place. We like to keep our top two applicants informed in case travel is an issue.”

  “Thank you so much.” Mitzi felt like her feet came a foot off the floor as she hung up and spun around. “We’ve got a shot at the bridal fair this year. Only one person has to drop out for us to get to go.”

  “That’s fantastic.” Fanny Lou stuck her hand in the air for a high five. “You should take Selena’s dress and the mannequin and maybe even one of the pink sofas for the display. Of course, you’ll need an archway that you can decorate with flowers to stand her under, and you should rent either some big ferns to go on each side or maybe a couple of those tall candleholders. You should be thinking about putting a bouquet in the mannequin’s hands, and oh—you definitely have to have some kind of little treats. I’ve got a tiered crystal stand for those. People will stick around your area longer if you have food.”

  Mitzi threw an arm around her grandmother as Fanny Lou rambled on. “Someone has to drop out before we get to go and it might not happen.”

  “You should be ready anyway. I’ll talk to the ladies at the doughnut shop and see if they’ll do a special order of tiny cakes or maybe even little bitty bite-sized doughnuts.” Fanny Lou picked up a cookie and took a bite. “Now, about Graham Harrison.”

  “All the girls in high school swooned over him, including Mitzi, but she hasn’t told us if he’s still as sexy as he was back then.” Jody took a bowl of salad from the fridge along with a plate of vegetables that she stuck into the microwave to heat.

  “He’s aged very, very well, and I’m having cookies,” Mitzi said.

  “Smart girl,” Fanny Lou said. “Life is short. Eat dessert first. So you had a little crush on Graham?”

  “Everyone did,” Mitzi answered.

  “Not me. I was always in love with Lyle,” Jody said.

  “Well, according to what I heard at the church bake sale today, Graham moved his daughters here to Celeste because they were being fat shamed down in Greenville. One of them knocked a girl on her ass, blacked both eyes, and bloodied her nose with one punch. It was the last day of school and they said they were going to suspend her for the first two weeks of next year for fighting,” Fanny Lou said.

  “She should get a medal, not suspended,” Mitzi fumed.

  Fanny Lou took a gallon jug of sweet tea from the fridge. “Who all wants a glass?”

  Three hands went up.

  She filled four glasses with ice and then tea and carried them to the table. “I remember when he went to work for his dad at the Cadillac dealership—right after he and Rita got married. His dad gave him a job on the lowest level, and he had to work his way up. Rita was furious because she thought they’d get a big house and a new Caddy every year. Stupid woman figured since his folks had money that he had an open bank account.”

  Paula took the ham and cheese containers from the fridge while Mitzi pulled a loaf of bread from the cabinet. “You eating with us, Granny?”

  “I’ll eat with you and Paula, but I don’t want any of that salad stuff Jody is having. I’ll eat what I want and die when I’m supposed to. Slice some of them tomatoes I brought in here earlier. And I’d rather have bologna instead of ham and mustard instead of mayo,” Fanny Lou answered.

  “Me, too,” Paula said. “I want one like hers.”

  “I was thinking the same thing.” Mitzi set about making three sandwiches.

  So Graham was divorced and raising girls on his own. Bless his heart for getting them away from a school that bullied them because of their size. Mitzi could relate to the girls. But then, so could Jody and Paula. She’d always figured that Jody adopted her own modern-day hippie style to combat those feelings of insecurity. Paula had retreated into superstition. Mitzi had just plowed her way through emotions and other kids, spending a lot of time in the principal’s office for fighting.

  She pushed all that to the back of her mind, put the sandwiches on plates, and carried them to the table. “Y’all know that this job for Ellie Mae could turn into a big thing. I bet her older siste
r will be the maid of honor and her mother will want a fancy dress.”

  “That’s what you’re in business for, isn’t it?” Fanny Lou said. “Man, this brings back memories. Friday night was bologna sandwich night when I was a kid.”

  “Why?” Jody asked.

  “Because Mama always cleaned house on Friday, and she didn’t have time to make a big meal,” Fanny Lou answered.

  “Funny how an hour of beading takes forever and our noon hour goes so fast.” Jody pointed to the clock.

  “Good Lord!” Fanny Lou finished off her sandwich and grabbed a cookie. “I’ve got an appointment with my CPA at one and it’s a fifteen-minute drive to Greenville. See you girls later. You have my permission to flirt with Graham, Mitzi.”

  Mitzi’s cheeks began to burn. “I had a teenage crush on him. I’ve grown up since then.”

  Fanny Lou winked as she headed for the door. “Paula, since you live with Mitzi, I’m putting you in charge of being sure she takes her birth control pills every morning.”

  Mitzi felt even more heat in her cheeks. “Granny!”

  “When you get old you get to say whatever the hell you want to.” Fanny Lou closed the door behind her.

  They’d just finished eating when the door opened and their one o’clock appointment arrived. It took Jody, Paula, and Mitzi to get her into the dress, a creation of white tulle over bridal satin. It certainly wasn’t what Mitzi would have chosen for the short lady, but with the help of Spanx and high heels, she was stunning. They added a sparkling tiara with a fingertip veil and turned her around on the stage to a huge three-way mirror.

  Tears began to flow as both her hands went to her cheeks. “Oh, my! I’m beautiful. For the first time in my life, I feel like a princess.”

  Jody grabbed a box of tissues and wiped her tears away. “Of course you are, darlin’. With those big old brown eyes and your gorgeous face, you’ve always been beautiful. Don’t cry, because I never let anyone cry alone.”

  “It’s perfect. Look, I even have a waist. I can’t wait to wear this next week.” She pulled out another tissue and dabbed her face. “You’ve got the right name for this place. I’ll be telling all my friends about The Perfect Dress.”

  Paula held a small trash can toward her so she could toss the tissue. “Word-of-mouth advertising is the best in the world. Want to take it off now?”

  She turned every which way to catch her reflection from all angles. “I don’t want my bridesmaids or anyone to see me in this until Saturday. I want to wear it forever, but please let me enjoy it for just five more minutes, and then I’ll take it off.”

  “Want me to take a picture with your phone?” Jody asked.

  “Nope.” She shook her head. “I’d be tempted to show it off. This way it’ll just hang in my apartment until Saturday when I take it to the church. Hey, I heard that Ellie Mae is having y’all make her dress, too. I can’t wait to see what it looks like. Is she going with lace or satin?”

  “That, darlin’, is confidential, just like your dress is,” Paula reminded her.

  “Thank God for that,” the woman said. “Okay, my five minutes of beautiful are over. Help me out of it. I’m glad I’ve got five bridesmaids to help me get dressed on my special day. I could never do this alone.”

  Jody and Paula took care of that, and then Mitzi gently put the gown in the zippered white bag with The Perfect Dress logo done up in gold lettering. She tucked the veil in one outside pocket and the shoes in another.

  “There you go. All ready for your big day.”

  “Thank you all.” She blew kisses as she headed behind the trifold screen to put on her jeans and shirt. “This is just the best dressing room ever. Us chubby ladies need room and lots of cool air when we try on clothes.”

  Mitzi whispered for Jody’s ears only, “So when are you going to let us design a hippie wedding dress for you?”

  “Lyle and I don’t believe in having to buy a marriage license. We may have a ceremony someday, but we won’t ever . . .” Jody started.

  “You could always jump the broom,” Paula suggested. “In some cultures that’s as binding as a paper from the courthouse.”

  “We might do that,” Jody laughed. “But for now, we’ve got sewing to do, and the Harrison girls will be here in an hour or so, so get down the pink, Mitzi.”

  “I’m fairly well caught up,” Paula said. “I’m going to prop up my feet in the kitchen with a big cold soda right out of the bottle.”

  “Open one for each of us,” Mitzi told her. “I’ll be there soon as I get the final payment and papers signed on this dress.”

  The girls came into the shop right on time that afternoon, their eyes huge as they tried to take in the totally feminine foyer and the wedding dress on the staircase.

  Mitzi was waiting.

  “I understand you girls need bubblegum-pink dresses. I’m Mitzi, and I own this shop with my two friends, Jody and Paula. I’ll introduce them to you in a few minutes,” she said.

  “I’m Tabby, and I look horrid in that color, but oh well.” The girl rolled her eyes toward the ceiling.

  “And I’m Dixie. I’m the oldest by five minutes. I hate pink, too. I mean like really hate it.”

  “Are y’all twins?” Mitzi asked.

  They nodded.

  “Only we’re not identical. My hair is darker,” Dixie said.

  “And my feet are a size bigger.” Tabby’s eyes kept darting around the room, as if she were a chocoholic turned loose in a candy store.

  With their clear blue eyes and translucent skin, makeup companies would fall all over themselves to sign a contract with these girls. High cheekbones and a full mouth would have plus-size catalog companies begging for the same. Thank goodness their hair was different, or it would have been difficult to tell them apart. Dixie’s black hair lay in curls down to her shoulders. Tabby’s hair was straight as a board and fell to her waist.

  “What style have you got in mind?” Mitzi asked.

  They both giggled.

  “I thought we should teach Mother a lesson and go all southern belle with a hoop skirt and a big flouncing collar,” Tabby answered.

  “And I thought we should show up lookin’ like we just came from the street corner in pink satin cut down to our belly button and up to our butts on the side,” Dixie giggled. “But I guess we should be nice.”

  “Why? We haven’t seen Lizzy since we were too young to even remember her, and we’ve only seen Mother once since we were toddlers. ‘Nice’ isn’t really an option,” Tabby said. “I vote we do something they’ll never expect and not tell them until the wedding day.”

  Mitzi thought of Ellie Mae and her black dress and of the client who had left just minutes ago with her dress. If Mitzi ever did fall in love, she could never keep her dress and the big day from Jody and Paula. But then, they’d probably be the very ones who made it for her.

  “You know we’re like just blowin’ off steam, Tabby,” Dixie said. “Let’s just do something simple and get it over with. I don’t want to be uncomfortable all day just to make a statement to Mother.”

  “Well, I can tell you one thing for sure: I’m tellin’ her exactly how I feel after this wedding is over, and you can’t stop me. I don’t care if it makes her mad at me,” Tabby said. “Now let’s talk about these nasty pink dresses.”

  After Mitzi’s mama died, she and her dad still kept up the Sunday-morning-breakfast tradition. In her opinion, parents who abandoned their children should be punished severely—and a hooker dress on a teenager just wasn’t going to cut it.

  “I’ve brought down some pink lace, satin, and other fabrics for you to look at. With your skin tones, you’ll be beautiful in that color. If I were doing your makeup, I’d use just a hint of pink lipstick and a thin line of blue eye shadow to accent your gorgeous eyes. Has she chosen hats or . . .”

  “A circlet of roses with burgundy ribbons.” Tabby’s eyes rolled toward the ceiling again. “She must think we’re still little girls.”r />
  “What if you had the hairdresser pull up the sides of your hair into a crown braid so the flowers would sit right in the middle and then loosely curl the rest of your hair?” Mitzi picked up a sketch pad and quickly drew what she had in mind.

  “Wow!” Dixie exclaimed. “That’s beautiful. Can we take that with us to the hair place?”

  Mitzi ripped the page off the pad and handed it to her. “Now, let’s talk style. Swing dresses are all the rage. What if we did something like this?” In a few minutes she’d whipped up a picture. “You won’t want to use heavy satin or it won’t flow right, and what do you think of cutting it off right here and doing the top in pink lace?”

  Dixie frowned and finally shook her head. “No, make it all the same material, but give us wide straps instead of a high neckline.”

  Tabby pulled the neck of her T-shirt to the side. “Wide enough to cover our normal bra like this so we don’t have to wear a strapless. I hate those things.”

  Mitzi picked up a thick eraser and redid the top of the dress. “How about some burgundy trim somewhere to tie in those ribbons?”

  Tabby pointed at the hem. “Just a hint around there. No, wait! I saw a dress last week at the mall that had a little ruffle of tulle around the bottom.”

  If Mitzi had daughters, she’d want them to be just like these two girls—all up in fashion and color. She picked up a burgundy pencil, and with a few flicks of the wrist, she put in a ruffle of soft illusion. “What do you think?”

  “Neither,” Dixie said. “Draw what the back will look like. I’ve got an idea.”

  Mitzi tore that sheet out and quickly redrew the dress from the back. It didn’t look all that different from the front, except the back had a hidden zipper to give them dressing ease.

  “Okay, now draw a burgundy bow right there with streamers that hang to the bottom of the dress,” Dixie said. “And take away that stuff on the bottom. It will draw attention to our legs and we’d rather folks looked at our faces.”

  “And besides, the people will see our backs as much as our fronts,” Tabby said. “Oh! And we can have burgundy high heels. I hope we’re at least a foot taller than all the bridesmaids.”