The Perfect Dress

by Brown, Carolyn

  “Are you proposing to me?” Mitzi whispered.

  “What would you say if I was?” Graham took her hand in his.

  “I’ve been in love with you since I was fifteen, but this is too quick. Let’s take it a step at a time,” she said.

  “Shhh . . .” Fanny Lou said.

  Graham leaned over to whisper softly, “I haven’t been in love with you that long, but I can guarantee you, I’ll be in love until my dying day.”

  Mitzi squeezed his hand. “Me, too.”

  Basking in his words, Mitzi tuned out the rest of the ceremony and designed her own perfect dress for a wedding on a beach somewhere close to a lovely hotel.

  Epilogue

  One year later

  Graham held Mitzi’s hand as she pulled herself up the bleacher steps at the football field that evening for the Fourth of July ceremonies. Paula hadn’t even looked pregnant until the last three weeks, but Mitzi looked like she’d swallowed a whole watermelon—one of those huge ones that fed at least twenty people.

  “Just two more weeks,” she groaned.

  “And then you’ll have to share the boy,” Graham said. “Everyone will fight over who gets to take care of him.”

  “Over here.” Fanny Lou waved from the fifty-yard line. “We’ve saved y’all a place.”

  “Thank goodness it’s not all the way to the top,” Mitzi said as she eased down on the seat.

  Graham sat down beside her and wrapped his hand around hers. “Remember where we were last year at this time? I’ve got to tell you, darlin’, this has been the best year of my life.”

  “I never get tired of hearing that. I love you, Graham, more today than when you kind of proposed to me at Ellie Mae’s wedding. It’s been my best year, too.”

  “If everyone will stand for the flag salute and remain standing for the national anthem, we’ll get this fireworks show started,” someone with a big booming voice said.

  Graham stood and then extended a hand toward Mitzi. She took it, but the whole time she thought that even he, with all his strength and size, might not be able to pull her to her feet in another two weeks. They’d had a destination wedding in Florida the previous September. Her perfect dress had been a creation in blue lace. Tabby was her maid of honor. Dixie was the best man. They’d made their own matching dresses in off-white satin, styled a lot like the ones they’d worn to Lizzy’s wedding. And all three of the ladies had gone barefoot. She and Graham had an amazing four-day honeymoon, but she’d felt a little guilty leaving Paula and Jody with so much work at the shop. They’d been such a hit at the Dallas Bridal Fair that they’d been invited to the Oklahoma City Bridal Fair in December. Between the first fair and the last, they now had a waiting list for custom-made dresses.

  The first display lit up the sky within seconds after the music stopped, and everyone took their seats again. Just thinking of the heat made her very aware of the sweat puddle around the band of her bra. As if he could read her mind, Graham pulled a white cotton handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed the moisture from her face. Fanny Lou noticed and whipped out a cardboard church fan.

  “Here, use this. Don’t you dare go into labor or pass out in this heat,” she said.

  Graham took it from her and kept a breeze going across Mitzi’s face. “Want to go on back home and sit under the air-conditioning? We don’t have to stay for the whole thing.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not a delicate flower. I’m more like a big old wild sunflower growing out on a fencerow. And Daddy made ice cream for afterwards. That’ll cool us all down.”

  “Ice cream?” Hazel squealed. “We get ice cream, too?”

  “It’s part of the July Fourth tradition. We watch the fireworks and then go back to the shop for ice cream,” Jody explained.

  Mitzi glanced over her shoulder. The diamond engagement ring on Jody’s finger sparkled under the football lights. In another few weeks, after the baby was born, there would be another destination wedding.

  Jody and Quincy were going to be married in West Virginia as soon as Mitzi could travel after giving birth. When Quincy had found out that Jody wanted a mountain wedding, he’d offered to take her to the Alps, but she’d refused. The hotel she’d found in Morgantown, West Virginia, had exactly the kind of place she wanted—a nice little veranda overlooking the mountains in the distance.

  Mitzi visualized Jody in the dress that hung in the fitting room. A lovely cream- colored watered silk, it hugged her now curvy body and then belled out at knee level. When she’d tried it on the last time, she’d taken her braids down, and loose curls fell to her waist. Quincy was going to be speechless when he saw her on their wedding day.

  The twins had offered to keep Hazel after the wedding. They’d made a spreadsheet of plans to keep her occupied and happy for a couple of days so that Quincy and Jody could get away for a short time in a nearby honeymoon cabin.

  Paula would be the only one living above the shop after Jody moved out to the house with Quincy, and even that probably wouldn’t be for long. She’d met a male nurse when she was in the hospital giving birth to Ivy Jane, and things were getting serious. He was sitting at the end of the row with the ten-month-old baby in his lap, smiling every time she clapped her hands over the fireworks show.

  “If someone had told y’all last year at this time what would be happening in a year, would you have believed it?” Fanny Lou asked.

  Mitzi shook her head. “Not in a million years.”

  “Looks to me like y’all need to be figuring out what Paula’s perfect dress is going to look like,” Fanny Lou said from behind her hand.

  “That’s her decision, and she’ll tell us when the time is right,” Mitzi said and then gasped during the last beautiful display in the sky.

  “It is pretty, isn’t it?” Graham leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

  “Yes, it is, but . . . this is a little embarrassing.” She felt heat traveling into her cheeks.

  “What?” he asked.

  “My water just broke,” she answered. “I guess what I’ve been having all day isn’t false labor at all. Don’t make a big deal out of it. I already look like I wet my jeans.”

  Graham helped her up with a hand and then pretended to stumble and, in the process of righting himself, spilled half a bottle of water in her lap.

  “I’m so, so sorry, darlin’,” he apologized. “Let’s get you home. Alice, can the girls ride to the shop with you?”

  “You are a genius,” Mitzi whispered as they slowly made their way to the van. “I love you more right now than I did an hour ago.”

  He helped her inside and then raced around the back of the van to get into the driver’s seat. “Keep those words in mind when you start to push.” He grinned. “Just think, we get to meet our son in a few hours.”

  “Let’s get me to the hospital and settled in before you call the rest of the family, okay?” she asked as a contraction took her breath.

  “Anything you want, darlin’,” he said. “But we’ll have to let them know soon. If we don’t show up at the shop for ice cream, they will panic.”

  “And there’s another pain. That’s only two minutes from the last one.”

  “We might get this baby before midnight yet.” Graham put the van in reverse and pointed it toward Greenville. Fifteen minutes and seven contractions later, he parked near the emergency room and rushed around the vehicle to help Mitzi get out. A nurse hurried out with a wheelchair and took her away with Graham following right behind them.

  Mitzi had been to the Lamaze classes, so she was as prepared as any expecting mother with a first child could be. And she hadn’t worried about Graham because he’d been through all this before when the twins were born. Yet two hours into the labor, when they said it was time to push, she realized she should have been more concerned about Graham. He kept mopping sweat from her forehead with a cool rag and telling her how much he loved her. But not doing much else.

  “I’m so sorry you’re in this much
pain,” he said.

  “You’ve been in the labor room before . . .” she panted like a puppy. “Oh, sweet Lord, I’ll be glad to get this baby boy out into the world.”

  “Darlin’, the twins were born by C-section. I wasn’t in the room,” he said.

  “You could have told me that before,” she moaned.

  “It never came up.”

  The nurse came in and checked her. “Okay, you’re at a ten and it’s time to push.”

  “I’m ready.” Mitzi remembered that Paula had to push for thirty minutes. She looked at the clock. If the baby could get there before midnight, he’d be born on the Fourth of July like she’d always wanted. She had twenty-eight minutes. She grabbed the bed rails and gave it all she had on the next contraction.

  The doctor came into the room, guided Mitzi’s legs into the stirrups, and pulled over a stool to sit on. “That’s the way to get things done. Give me several more like that, and we’ll get this job done in a hurry.”

  At two minutes until midnight, Graham cut his son’s umbilical cord and put the screaming red-haired boy into Mitzi’s arms. “He’s beautiful.”

  “He’s got my hair.” Mitzi kissed the baby on the forehead. “But he’s the image of you.”

  Midnight had come and gone by the time the medical team got the baby cleaned up and wrapped in a blue blanket. Mitzi wanted to stay in their little three-person cocoon for days, but the family—both those by DNA and those by love—were waiting, so she nodded to Graham to go get them. They filed into the room in awe at the baby lying in his mother’s arms.

  “Y’all come meet Taylor Graham Harrison. He weighs nine pounds, ten ounces and is twenty-two inches long. He’s going to be a big boy like his daddy.”

  Dixie and Tabby didn’t waste a bit of time getting from the door to the bed. “Oh, Mitzi Mama, he’s beautiful,” Tabby said. “We promise we’ll spoil him rotten.”

  “So rotten that the garbageman won’t even want him,” Dixie giggled.

  “But he’s going to learn to play ball, not sew dresses,” Alice declared.

  “Maybe he’ll be a ballet dancer. Whatever he wants is what he’s going to be,” Tabby said.

  Alice and Fanny Lou both groaned.

  “But today he’s going to be a much-loved baby,” Jody said. “I can’t wait until Quincy and I have a sibling for Hazel. We’ve talked about it and we’re going to start trying as soon as we’re married, just like y’all did.”

  “Where’s Ivy?” Mitzi asked.

  “Quincy is watching her and Hazel at the shop.” Paula touched the baby on his chubby cheeks.

  “He has red hair.” Tabby held her hand out toward Dixie. “Pay up, sister. You owe me five bucks.”

  “It’s the light. His hair is going to be dark like ours. I get to hold him first,” Dixie said. “Please, Mitzi Mama, let me be first.”

  “He’s so beautiful.” Harry wiped away a tear and kissed Mitzi on the forehead. “Your mama would be so happy to see our first grandbaby.”

  Mitzi patted her dad on the cheek. “She sees him, Daddy. Remember what you told me? There’s holes in the floor of heaven and she sees all the wonderful things that happen to us.”

  Harry nodded. “That brings me peace. Now give that baby to his daddy. Graham should be the first one to hold him. After all, Taylor is his son.”

  Mitzi handed the baby to Graham. “Family, friends, a new baby, and the love of my life all in one place. I’m truly blessed.”

  “Life is good. No. Life is great,” Graham said as Taylor wrapped his chubby finger around his pinkie.

  Acknowledgments

  Dear Readers,

  Broken hearts come in all sizes and from all ages. The support of good friends and a quart of ice cream always help put the pieces back together. Such is the case with the ladies who own and operate The Perfect Dress, a custom wedding-dress shop that caters to plus-size women. Mitzi, Jody, and Paula grew up in the tiny town of Celeste—population less than a thousand—and coming home to set up a business there after living away had its very own set of challenges.

  Mr. B and I have fifteen grandchildren, and twelve of those are girls. That means we get to do lots of shopping for prom, homecoming, wedding, and winter-formal dresses. Our granddaughters are all size ranges, some small and some plus size. This past year, when we began to plan for a wedding next fall for one of our plus-size girls, it got me to wishing there was a custom shop that catered solely to that size woman. Especially one that would make a black-lace wedding dress like she wants. So I invented one in my mind and called it The Perfect Dress. You’re holding the story that came from my imaginary shop in your hands.

  I owe a debt of gratitude to several folks for their hard work in taking my rough idea and helping me turn it into a book. First, all my thanks to my editor, Krista Stroever, for all she did to bring out every giggle, every tear, and even the anger in my characters. Without emotion, they wouldn’t come to life, and she’s a master at helping me accomplish that. And thanks to my editors at Amazon/Montlake Romance, Anh Schluep and Megan Mulder, who continue to believe in my stories. And a big thanks to my team at Amazon/Montlake Romance for everything from covers to promotion and all that happens behind the scenes to put a book on the shelf. And to my awesome agent, Erin Niumata. Without her, I could never accomplish what I do. Also my thanks to Mr. B, my best friend and soul mate. And last, though not least by any means, to all my fans for reading my books, for writing reviews, and for sending fan mail: I love you all!

  As I write The End, I’m leaving behind good friends that I’ve made with these characters. I hope that when you finish reading it, these folks are your friends, also!

  Sending all of you hugs until next time,

  Carolyn Brown

  About the Author

  Photo © 2015 Charles Brown

  Carolyn Brown is a New York Times, USA Today, Publishers Weekly, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author and a RITA finalist. The Perfect Dress is her ninety-fifth published book. Her genres include women’s fiction, romance, history, cowboys and country music, and contemporary mass-market paperbacks. She and her husband live in the small town of Davis, Oklahoma, where everyone knows everyone else, knows what they are doing and when . . . and reads the local newspaper every Wednesday to see who got caught. They have three grown children and enough grandchildren to keep them young. Visit Carolyn at www.carolynbrownbooks.com.