The Perfect Dress

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The Perfect Dress Page 27

by Brown, Carolyn


  “Paula?”

  “Yes, who is this?” she asked.

  “It’s Clinton. You almost ruined my marriage,” he said.

  “Want to explain?” she asked coldly.

  “Kayla just walked in on me in a hotel room with another woman.”

  “And that’s my fault, how?” Paula giggled. “Maybe karma has finally bitten you on the butt. You are a horrible husband.”

  “She said that she saw you in a baby shop and that you suggested she could stay with me,” Clinton said. “So thank you for trying to tear apart my family.”

  “Hey, that’s not on me, big boy. You told me you were separated and you never mentioned that you already had a son. I didn’t tell Kayla that to hurt your marriage, but to help it. Goodbye, Clinton, and don’t call here again.” She hung up the phone and slumped down on the nearest sofa. The baby kicked, and she laid her hand on her stomach.

  “We can do this on our own, baby girl. We’ll do just fine with your aunts Mitzi and Jody.”

  The drive from Celeste to Dallas had been so much fun that Mitzi completely forgot that Rita would be at the wedding. So it was a shock when she looked up and saw Rita coming across the parking lot toward the van. Wearing high-heeled shoes and a cute little strapless red sundress that barely reached her knees, she looked downright beautiful. Mitzi’s blue-and-white checked shirt and white capris that had looked pretty cute that morning suddenly felt dowdy.

  “Hello, Rita,” Mitzi said cheerfully as she opened the passenger’s door. “You probably don’t remember me. I was just a freshman when you and Graham were seniors. I’m Mitzi Taylor.” It wasn’t easy to be nice to that witch, but she could do it for the girls’ sake. After all, Rita was their mother, and if this new relationship between Mitzi and Graham was to go anywhere, Mitzi needed to be an adult, not the mud-slinging hussy that she so wanted to be right then.

  “I remember you well.” Rita’s eyes started at Mitzi’s sandals and traveled slowly all the way to her red hair. “You’ve always been . . .” She paused a second before she said, “Tall.”

  “Never was accused of being petite.” Mitzi grinned and turned her attention to the twins, who’d gotten out on the other side of the vehicle. “You girls need some help?”

  “And now you’re kind of like the girls’ nanny, right?” Rita sneered.

  “I’m their friend and they work for me.” Mitzi turned her attention back to the girls. “Your dad and I’ll help you get all this inside. Don’t try to take care of it all on your own.”

  Rita followed Mitzi to the back of the van and barely glanced at the girls. “Those are nice dresses. I didn’t know what you might choose, but they’ll cover up . . .” She covered a fake cough with her hand before she said, “They will look good on you.”

  Mitzi moved over to stand closer to the girls. “They helped with the design. And they’re teaching themselves to sew. They made the cutest little shirts for the Fourth of July fireworks. They’ve probably told you that they’ve been making all kinds of corsages and bouquets for us at the shop.”

  “I haven’t talked to them in a while,” Rita said.

  Mitzi was glad she had both hands full so she couldn’t slap the woman.

  Tabby pulled out a tote bag and a small suitcase on wheels. “We love going to the shop every day. It sure beats sittin’ at home all day, redoin’ our makeup and fingernail polish.”

  Dixie was right behind her with her suitcase. “Daddy, if you’ll get my makeup bag with all our makeup in it, that’ll just leave the shoe boxes for Mother. Wait until you see the shoes that Mitzi dyed to match our dresses, Rita—I mean, Mother.”

  Neither girl had made an attempt to hug their mother, but then she didn’t try to hug them, either, or even ask to help them. That left one reason she’d come out in the heat that morning—Graham.

  “I’m sure they’re lovely.” Rita ignored the shoes and looped her arm into Graham’s. “I was going to ask if you’d like to stay for the wedding.”

  “No, thank you.” Graham picked up her arm and dropped it. Then he moved close enough to Mitzi to drape an arm around her shoulders. “Mitzi and I’ve got plans for today.”

  Oh, yes we do, Mitzi thought. And they do not involve being anywhere near you.

  “I see. So that’s the way it is?” Rita grabbed the two shoe boxes and stomped back toward the building, her heels sounding like short little blasts from a .22 rifle with every step.

  “Yes, it is,” Graham called out.

  “Do we follow her, Daddy, or do we get to blow off this wedding and go with you and Mitzi today?” Dixie grinned.

  “I’d like that a lot better than spending the day here,” Tabby said.

  “Guess we better follow her, since y’all agreed to be part of this affair,” Graham said.

  Rita disappeared inside a room and slammed the door behind her.

  Tabby looked over her shoulder at her dad. “Maybe they wouldn’t even miss us.”

  “A Harrison keeps her word. It’s too late to back out at this point.” Graham pushed his way inside the room, and the rest followed him.

  Rita was uncorking a bottle of champagne over to their right. She poured a glass to the brim and drank down half of it before she turned around to her daughters. “We’ve set you up at the end of that table. If there’s time, the professional makeup lady will take care of you.”

  “We do our own makeup, Mother,” Dixie said. “The lady can use all her time on y’all.”

  “Could I have a word in private with you, Mitzi?” Rita asked. “In the ladies’ room?”

  “Of course,” Mitzi said.

  Graham laid a hand on Mitzi’s shoulder. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Oh, yeah, I do.” Mitzi kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t worry. I can take care of myself.” She would do her best to keep things civil, but she couldn’t promise there wouldn’t be a few drops of blood on the bathroom floor.

  “Then I’ll wait right here.” Graham sat down in a chair by the door.

  The girls were both busy setting out their makeup kits and didn’t even notice when Mitzi followed Rita across the room and into a bathroom. Rita went straight to the mirror and, using her fingertips, fluffed up her long blonde hair. Mitzi leaned against the door and waited.

  “Well?” Rita finally flipped around and glared at her.

  “You called this meeting, remember? What do you need to say?” Mitzi prompted.

  “Graham is mine. He always has been, since high school, and he always will be. A man never forgets his first love,” Rita said.

  “You’re married, aren’t you?” Mitzi asked.

  “For now,” Rita answered. “Seeing Graham again brought back all those old feelings, and I will have him again, right along with my daughters.”

  “I think seeing that Graham now owns the dealership put dollar signs in your eyes, not love in your heart. And, honey, everyone in high school knew that Graham wasn’t your first love. I don’t know which one of the football players was, but you made your way through several,” Mitzi told her.

  Rita’s hands knotted into fists. “Are you calling me a slut?”

  “If the shoe fits,” Mitzi said. “Frankly, I don’t care if you’re a slut or a saint. What I don’t like is the way you’ve treated your daughters. They think you’re embarrassed of them because of their size, and that’s why you left them and never even came back to see them for so many years. That scars a kid. You should be ashamed.”

  Rita’s lip curled in a sneer. “You should know all about that fat business. Trust me, Graham likes small women, not b-big old . . .” She stammered when Mitzi pushed away from the wall and stepped closer.

  “‘Big old’ what?” Mitzi asked.

  “Tubs of lard,” Rita shot out the answer.

  Mitzi wanted to snatch the woman baldheaded, but that would make Rita the victim, and create more drama. “There’s two sides to every person. The one that the world sees, and then that inward one. You might be l
ittle and cute on the outside, but the inside of you is black with rotting evil. If that’s all you’ve got to say, then I’m walking out of here. But before I go, just remember that one woman’s trash is another woman’s treasure. I intend to cherish every precious moment I can spend with your beautiful daughters and with Graham. Y’all have a good day.”

  Mitzi left her standing at the vanity looking like she could kill someone with her bare hands. She slung open the bathroom door with such force that if Graham hadn’t been there to catch it, the bang it made against the wall would have startled everyone in the room.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “I’m fine,” she bit out. “There’s no blood and she still has all her hair, which is a miracle.”

  “Graham.” Rita brushed past them both and went straight for the champagne table.

  “Rita.” He barely acknowledged her as he wrapped an arm around Mitzi’s shoulders. “I guess we should be leaving, right?”

  “I hate to leave the girls with that woman, even if she is their mother,” Mitzi said through clenched teeth.

  Graham hugged her closer to his side. “They’ll be fine. Don’t worry about them. They have my cell phone number and yours as well. I just hope they don’t deck anyone, especially Rita, for making a wisecrack about their size.”

  Just thinking about that made Mitzi tense up. “If anyone does that, they can call me, and I’ll come back here and do more than that. And I’ll enjoy it, darlin’.”

  “Kind of protective there, are you?” Graham teased as they left the building. “Want to tell me what went on in the bathroom?”

  “Ain’t no ‘kind of’ to it. I fall in the whole serious business-of-protection category,” Mitzi said. “I’ll just say that Rita and I came to an understanding and leave it at that.”

  He stopped at the Escalade he’d brought home from the shop to use over the weekend. With a hand on each side of her body, he caged her against the door and kissed her—long and passionately.

  Her knees wobbled when he stepped back, but her eyesight remained very good. There was no mistaking Rita with a cigarette in her hand, coming outside for a smoke. She propped a hip on the arm of a bench situated beside the door and glared at Mitzi.

  “So where to first?” Graham asked.

  “Do they have room service at that hotel?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He opened the door for her and then leaned in to fasten her seat belt. On the way back out, he kissed her again.

  “I’ve dreamed of spending a whole day with you since I was fifteen years old. A day when I don’t have to share you with anyone, so let’s make my dreams come true,” she said.

  “Yes, ma’am.” His grin got wider. “Your wish and all that.”

  He was telling the truth when he said the hotel was nearby. Two blocks away, as a matter of fact. He tossed the keys to a valet and shoved the ticket into his shirt pocket. Then, with his hand on the small of her back, he guided her to the registration desk through the fanciest lobby she’d ever been in. Once he had a room card in his hand, he laced his fingers in hers and led her straight to the elevator.

  “You’ve been here before,” she said.

  The elevator doors opened and he stepped inside. “This is where we hold the Cadillac conference every year. I’ve never brought a woman here. Just want you to know that.” He slipped his arms around her waist and drew her close to his chest. “You should always wear pale blue. That shirt brings out your eyes.”

  “Thank you.” She barely got the words out before his lips were on hers again. If she’d had any doubts about what she was about to do, they disappeared in that moment.

  They were still kissing when the elevator doors opened. Feeling a little bit of a blush, she glanced over his shoulder, expecting to see people waiting to get on, but instead she was looking into an enormous living area. A glass wall at the end of the room showed off a spectacular view of the city of Dallas.

  “Oh, my!” she gasped.

  “I thought you deserved the penthouse,” he said.

  She crossed the room and took in the panoramic view in front of her. He slipped his arms around her waist and softly kissed her on the neck. “Like it?”

  “Love it.” She was suddenly nervous, unsure. “Graham, I’ve never undressed with the lights on.”

  “Then we won’t turn them on, darlin’,” he said as he backed her toward the bedroom. “And if you’re uncomfortable undressing, then I’ll do it for you.” He tugged the shirt up over her head. “I’ve dreamed about this moment since I first walked into your shop.”

  “Really?” she asked.

  “Oh, yeah, and that, darlin’, is not a pick-up line.”

  In the mirror above the desk, she could see a king-size bed. That’s when she kicked off a sandal and shoved the door shut with her foot.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Mitzi awoke on Sunday morning and, without opening her eyes, scooted over in the bed to snuggle up to Graham, but a pillow met her body. For a single second, she thought he’d left her without saying goodbye. Then she realized that she was in her own bedroom above the shop and not in that fancy hotel with him.

  Both Paula and Jody had been asleep when she’d gotten home the night before, but now she could hear pots and pans rattling downstairs and the buzz of their conversation. They’d want details of her day and night, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to share them just yet, so she lay very still and tried to decide how much to tell and how much to selfishly keep to herself.

  After a while, she slung her legs over the side of the bed, stood up, and padded downstairs in her bare feet. “Good mornin’. What’s for breakfast?”

  “I’m just finishing up the eggs,” Jody answered. “Bacon is ready and biscuits came out of the oven a few minutes ago.”

  “What? No hash browns?” Mitzi joked.

  “In the cast-iron skillet already on the table.” Paula pointed. “You remember that sayin’ about the north and south fairy tales?”

  Mitzi shook her head. “No, but it’s early. Maybe after a cup of coffee and a hot biscuit, I’ll remember.”

  “Folks up north start off a fairy tale by sayin’, ‘Once upon a time’,” Jody said.

  “And us southerners start one off by sayin’, ‘You ain’t goin’ to believe this shit’,” Paula said.

  “So which fairy tale are y’all about to tell me?” Mitzi asked.

  “I didn’t say anything until now because I wanted all of us to be together.” Jody flipped her long braids over her back. “I’m never cutting my hair because Hazel thinks my braids are like Rapunzel’s and she likes the color because it reminds her of Filly.”

  Mitzi poured three cups of coffee and set them on the table. “Who is Hazel? And what filly?”

  Paula helped carry the food to the table. “You’ve got my attention, too. Who are all these people?”

  “Hazel is Quincy’s four-year-old daughter. Filly is a big old yellow cat whose real name is Ophelia, but Hazel calls her Filly.” Jody was the last one to sit down. “We should say grace. I’ll do it.” She bowed her head and said, “Thank you, Father, for this food, these good friends, and for knowing what’s best for us even though we fight You every step of the way. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Mitzi said as she took a sip of the coffee.

  “Amen,” Paula added. “Now go on.”

  Jody split open a biscuit and went on to tell them a detailed account of what had happened the day before, ending with, “She cried when I left, so I promised her that I’d see her again today. We’re spending the day with her at the Dallas Zoo. I know we need to do some catch-up work with all the orders that the bridal fair brought in, but I promise to work until midnight all week to have this day off. Her mother picks her up at a McDonald’s PlayPlace at five, so we’ll have the whole day to play.”

  “Well,” Paula said, her eyes twinkling. “You’ll have about six hours after that to spend with Quincy before your curfew.”

  Jody held up both
palms. “Okay, let me have it all right now, and get it over with. Pile on the jokes and the ‘I told you sos’ but there’s nothing between me and Quincy but that little girl. They’ll be here in an hour, and you’re going to fall in love with her just like I did.”

  “And that’s why you’ve got on your best jeans and drug out your good cowboy boots?” Mitzi asked.

  “I’m not wearing flip-flops to the zoo,” Jody said.

  “I’m so excited for you that I’m not even going to tease you, but this brings me to my ‘you ain’t goin’ to believe this shit’ story,” Paula said between bites.

  “Fairy tale, not story,” Mitzi reminded her.

  Paula took a second helping of eggs. “I guess Madame Fate had something to do with my day, also. Who would you have thought I’d run into in a baby store?”

  “Your sister?” Mitzi asked.

  “Even worse. Clinton’s wife, Kayla,” Paula answered and then went on with her story. “I feel sorry for the woman, knowing what I do now, and he said that day he showed up here that he’d been faithful since our affair. It wasn’t nice—matter of fact, it was downright mean of me—but I hoped she’d catch him if he was having another affair. She deserves to know, but I don’t want to be in the middle of it. I never want him to know about the baby,” she said, and then continued her story.

  “Holy crap on a cracker!” Mitzi threw a hand over her mouth. “He had the balls to blame you? That man is crazy. I’m glad you’re not tellin’ him about the baby.”

  Paula opened her mouth to say something, but the doorbell rang.

  “It’s early for Fanny Lou to pick you up for church, Mitzi,” Jody said with a glance toward the foyer.

  “Granny comes through the back door, not the front.” Mitzi got up and started in that direction. The bell kept ringing, time after time, until she unlocked the door and slung it open, half expecting to see the backside of a couple of kids doing a “ring and run” prank. She recognized Kayla immediately and blocked the entrance.

  Kayla put her hands on Mitzi’s chest and pushed, but it did as much good as a gnat trying to shove a horse out of its way. “I’m going to talk to Paula, so you might as well get out of my way.”

 

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