Anyone would be.
DeeDee cleared her throat, then swallowed as Eric Anders joined her on stage. “There is a table at the back outlining the initiative proposed by Building Tomorrow. Halfway through our show, there will be a twenty-minute intermission, during which I encourage you to look over the table and pledge your support for personalized programs for developmentally disabled adults in Marietta. Now, let’s enjoy Marietta Style!”
She handed the mic to Eric.
“Folks, let’s hear it for our own fashion maven and coordinator of this event, Deirdre Cash,” Eric said as applause rolled through the crowd. “DeeDee has curated the best catwalk looks that will most influence your wardrobe choices this year—for women and men, kids and teens, many of whom you will recognize today.”
More applause. DeeDee tipped her head to the audience and blew kisses of thanks, then slipped offstage, grateful for the many residents who’d agreed to participate. She’d forgotten how generous Marietta could be. Had they always been this way?
Perhaps, having written the town off and set her sights elsewhere, she’d never opened herself to the acceptance that had always been here, waiting.
Melinda Sweet, the first model to take to the stage, clutched DeeDee’s arm. “I’m so nervous. How do I look?”
DeeDee gripped Mel’s shoulders and looked firmly into her eyes. “You look fabulous. Unbelievable. This is your moment to shine, understand?”
From behind the curtain, they heard Eric say, “The cold-shoulder trend remains huge. Rucksacks are the bag to be seen with and prairie is the new boho.”
“That’s your cue.” She gave Mel a nudge.
“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Mel whispered over her shoulder as she slipped through the curtain.
“Add some originality to your wardrobe with this unique asymmetric sweater in iced mocha.” Eric read Deirdre’s words smoothly. “Crafted from a cashmere-like fabric, it features long sleeves, a mock neck, and a side slit, perfect for the still-cool nights of spring. Paired with seriously stretchy faux-suede leggings and short stack-heeled boots, this outfit brings comfort to flair, perfect for the office, lunch with a friend, or a shopping spree.”
Mel completed the end and both sides of the runway, pausing to cock a hip as directed, then returned behind the curtains.
“Whew,” she said, whipping the drape closed behind her. “I did it. That was actually kind of fun.”
“There’ll be time to talk after.” DeeDee zipped up the back of Maddie’s dress, handed Mel another outfit, then turned to Sara Maria, who stood motionless at the entrance to the runway.
Oh, no. Sara Maria had begun to come into her own when her pie-baking skills earned her a job at the local bakery, but it was clear that her comfort level was stretched thin with this event. Maybe DeeDee should have scheduled her for later in the program. But too much waiting and the girl might back out.
“You can do it, Sara Maria.” DeeDee held out a hand, but didn’t touch her.
“He hasn’t said the words yet. The ‘lovely young woman’ part.”
They’d practiced this. Sara Maria needed the cue to go exactly as planned. Eric knew this.
“It’s okay. He’ll say them. Just wait.” DeeDee peered around the corner, listening for the patter, but Eric had strayed from her notes.
“Aren’t we lucky to have so many good-looking people in our town?” he was saying as Maddie finished her turn on stage.
More appreciation from the crowd. Eric knew how to work a room, which was great. But if he didn’t stick to the script, the girl wouldn’t walk.
“I understand that Sara Maria Willingham is modeling a must-have for the season,” he said, returning to the script. “A lovely outfit worn by a lovely young woman.”
DeeDee whooshed out a breath. “Okay, there it is. Go!”
Sara Maria stepped through the curtains on her own.
“This printed poncho,” Eric read, “is made of a whisper-soft angora blend and can be worn as a light coat or as an extra layer for a stylish outfit.”
Sara Maria marched to the end, stopped, then did the same at both sides of the T-shaped platform. No smile, no pose, no frills. DeeDee had asked her to walk a certain path, wearing certain clothing, and that was what she did.
It was perfect.
DeeDee could see Brant Willingham, Sara Maria’s older brother and guardian, cheering and waving from the front row. She wondered if Isaac and Brant had ever traded stories about life with their special siblings. Maybe she’d suggest they start a resource group for family members.
“Isn’t Sara Maria pretty, DeeDee?” Behind her stood Mark, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “She’s my girlfriend. Sara Maria makes delicious pie and she is my girlfriend.”
“She’s very pretty, Mark. Can you tell me what I said about you staying in line, so we don’t get confused?”
He pursed his lips and scrunched his eyebrows. “I need to stay in line so we don’t get confused.”
“Right.” She nudged him gently back to his spot.
“Nice job, Sara Maria.” Maddie, next in line, grinned at the girl as they passed.
Sara Maria continued to the changing area, no doubt eager to return to her own clothing.
Maddie had no trouble being in front of a crowd, but DeeDee had carefully chosen a pair of low-heeled ankle boots for her outfit. If anyone was likely to wipe out today, it would be Maddie, as she’d already broken one ankle in her life.
Maddie came back and switched places with Dakota Parker. DeeDee had dressed her in a printed blouse in pomegranate that had front pockets, a buttoned neckline, and roll-tab sleeves.
“I’m doing this for Mr. Fluffy Legs,” Dakota said.
DeeDee had agreed to adopt the cat in return for Dakota’s participation. She couldn’t bear the thought of someone else adopting the animal and breaking Mark’s heart.
“As soon as Clementine moves out, he moves in, I promise. You look gorgeous, by the way. Bryce is going to lose his mind when he sees you.”
Dakota blushed and tipped her chin. She had it bad. Her relationship with Bryce was still new, but anyone who saw them together could tell it was going to last.
It was so cute.
“I’ve seen the outfit you’re modeling,” Dakota said. “I think Isaac Litton’s going to go a little crazy tonight, too.”
DeeDee swallowed a cough. “Isaac? He’s here to cheer for Mark. And to support a worthy cause. That’s all.”
She knew her feelings, but she didn’t know his.
A snort of laughter sounded behind her. She looked over her shoulder to see Mel and Maddie, listening.
“Isaac’s tongue will be on the floor,” Maddie said.
Mel laughed. “There will be a lot of people in that state tonight. You’re brilliant, DeeDee, in using ordinary people as models. As nerve-wracking as it is, I caught Austin’s eye in the crowd as I was sashaying down the catwalk and let me just say, I’m glad Abel’s staying with his grandmother tonight.”
*
Isaac sat in the chair DeeDee had designated for him, near Mick, Cynthia, and Chad, when he wasn’t on stage.
Austin Sweet, from the honey farm next to Anders Run, sat with Logan Stafford in the row behind them. Their wives, Isaac had been told, were participating in the show, and would join them in the audience when their turns were over.
“Are we allowed to eat the chocolate?” Mick asked, reaching for the plate. “I hope there are lots of salted caramels.”
“I requested them with you in mind,” Cynthia said. “But you’ll have to try the Easter Egg Bark, too. Isn’t it pretty? It’s a special item Sage created this year. I think it’ll be a huge hit.”
It was a fancier version of the white chocolate bark DeeDee had made with Mark.
“It’s delicious,” Isaac said. “DeeDee made a batch of it with my brother.”
Was that the moment he’d fallen in love with her?
It had begun without him noticing, he r
ealized. A million tiny things had made him care for her. The way she put her hands on her hips when she spoke to Mark, affectionate and bossy at the same time. How she persisted, despite Mark’s whining and Isaac’s negativity, to bring freshness and energy to their home. How she’d put a piece of chocolate on his tongue and made him taste it, really taste it, find the pleasure he’d been too busy or too preoccupied to notice.
How she was as comfortable and confident in jeans and no makeup as she was decked out in her finest.
“I hear she gave Carol Bingley the boot yesterday,” Cynthia said. “I wish I’d seen it. It’s all anyone’s talking about. DeeDee the defender. I’m not surprised. She’s done the same for me. She and Maddie both. I’m so lucky to have them as my sisters.”
Cynthia was speaking rather pointedly to him.
“Mark and I are lucky, too,” he responded.
But for how long? DeeDee never talked about her future, and he had the impression she was still undecided, waiting for something, especially after what Leda had said.
On the other hand, what about her comment about loving them? Was it a casual remark or did it mean something?
As if on cue, the curtains at the end of the stage shifted and there she was, modeling a brand-new outfit. He barely heard Eric’s words, so taken was he with the vision she presented. She moved with a poise and grace not always evident in her day-to-day life, surveying the crowd regally, making eye contact, her lips curved upward softly.
In truth, Isaac had been mesmerized since the moment DeeDee had first taken the mic to introduce the show. He’d known she was beautiful, of course, but he’d never have guessed her to be such an excellent public speaker. There was passion in her words and gestures.
Passion on behalf of Mark.
Did she even know how incredible she was?
Of course not. She’d been focused on her failings for so long that she’d lost sight of who she really was.
The irony.
This time, the applause was more than polite.
Maddie leaned over Mick and tapped Isaac on the leg. “DeeDee’s great, isn’t she?”
He nodded, wondering what DeeDee had told her sister about him. About them. If there even was a them.
The lights dimmed and the music began, an upbeat big-band-style piece that caught everyone’s attention.
A small arm shoved aside the curtain, and a girl he guessed to be around nine or ten jumped out.
At the sidelines, DeeDee took the mic from Eric. “Please welcome Savannah Dawson, who loves soccer, chocolate, and her little brother. Savannah’s lovely brushed-cotton pinafore in peach floral is the perfect outfit for a spring outing with the grandparents. Thank you, Savannah.”
The girl curtsied to a wave of laughter and more applause.
“Next, we have Melinda Sweet again. This busy nurse-midwife is wearing a jersey-knit sheath that combines comfort with elegance.”
Behind Isaac, Austin Sweet got to his feet, whistling and cheering as his wife waltzed down the runway. She paused at the end nearest them and blew a kiss.
DeeDee described the outfit, which looked like a green dress to Isaac, and then it was time for the next model.
Dakota Parker, the woman from the animal shelter, was followed by her sister, Nevada, then a couple of men he hadn’t met yet, then two friends of Mark’s from the May Bell program. Lastly, an elderly couple strode out hand in hand.
Logan got to his feet. “That’s my cue,” he whispered.
He edged past the people sitting in the row and took the mic from DeeDee, who disappeared into the shadows behind the stage.
The music changed as a teenage boy stepped onto the runway. He glanced up at Logan, blinking in the bright lights.
“Please welcome our next model,” Logan said, nodding to the boy. “Carter Boyd, a recent graduate of Marietta High, apprenticed with me in the Building Tomorrow program. Now he works at Big Z Hardware in the lumber department and has a promising future in construction.”
Chad leaned in. “That kid would never have made it through school without Staff.”
Isaac had heard about ‘Logan’s kids’ as they were called, the ones who helped with his heritage house restoration projects, students who weren’t succeeding in the academic setting, but thrived with a less-traditional approach.
Logan’s passion reaffirmed Isaac’s decision to settle here with Mark. That the entire town would come out to support this fundraiser was icing on the cake. That DeeDee had pulled all the myriad details of this show together proved to him that not only did she have more friends in Marietta than she believed, but that she also vastly underestimated her own talents.
Carter clumped in his sparkling-new work boots to each end of the runway, and then practically ran back to the curtain.
“Next,” Logan said, “we have someone else I’m very proud of—my daughter Jade.”
The child walked out stiffly, her brow furrowed. Her sleek dark hair and eyes hinted at her Asian heritage, but the tilt of her head and the tightness of her shoulders gave evidence that she, like Sara Maria, was on the Autism spectrum.
She didn’t look happy to be there, but there was no questioning her determination.
Maddie, back in the audience now that her stint onstage was done, leaned over again. “Jade is Samara’s daughter from her first marriage. Logan’s in the process of adopting her. They’re trying to decide what to do about her name. Right now, she’s Jade Davis-Kim-Stafford, which is a mouthful for anyone, let alone a kid.”
“Jade loves ice cream, bike riding, and her service dog Bob,” Logan went on, “who is part Labrador and part Border Collie.”
“And part luck of the draw,” Jade added, frowning fiercely. “Bob is a girl. Bob is my dog.”
Laughter rumbled over the crowd.
“Bob is definitely Jade’s dog,” Logan confirmed. “Jade is wearing dark-wash blue jeans and a three-quarter sleeve cotton-blend shirt. Thank you, Jade.”
More applause.
Isaac admired the camaraderie he sensed among these people. Would he and Mark truly be able to be a part of something like this?
Another music change.
“Next up is Mark Litton, the young man DeeDee mentioned in her opening.”
Isaac sat up straight, his breath quickening.
Mark stepped through the curtain. Isaac could see DeeDee in the wings, urging him on. A hush fell over the crowd, followed by oohs and aahs.
DeeDee had dressed Mark in a tuxedo, complete with bow tie, shoes polished to a mirror-like shine, and neatly cut hair styled to perfection.
He looked so proud of himself, so handsome, so… smart. Isaac had to admit his brother didn’t look uncomfortable or embarrassed. If anything, he looked confident, like he was having fun.
He looked, Isaac realized, normal.
A stab of guilt ran through him. DeeDee had accused him of not pushing Mark hard enough, of treating him differently, letting him fit the stereotype of people with Down syndrome, instead of emphasizing his uniqueness and his strengths.
“Mark is wearing a white double-breasted shirt and a three-piece charcoal penguin suit. Thank you, Mark.”
Mark went to do another pirouette. But this time, his foot slipped as he began the turn.
Isaac’s heart lodged in his throat.
You had to get cocky.
Everything happened then as if in silent, slow motion.
Mark’s arms reached into the air, the triumphant grin fading, replaced by wide, frightened eyes and a mouth open in a big O. The shiny shoes slid on the smooth surface of the runway and his legs went sideways, angling toward the far wall, the crease of his slacks rippling like water.
Mark landed with a thump that reverberated throughout the building. One of his shoes flew off into the crowd. His new glasses bounced off his nose and clattered to the other side of the runway.
In his peripheral vision, Isaac saw DeeDee leap out from between the curtains, clutching the edges of a terry-cloth robe to h
er chest, her hair clipped up away from her face.
Isaac had barely gotten to the end of his row before DeeDee was at Mark’s side.
“Mark, honey, are you okay?” he heard her ask. DeeDee put her arm around his shoulders to help him sit up.
Appearing winded, Mark nodded and blinked. Isaac could see tears sparkling in his eyes.
“I sorry, DeeDee.” His voice wobbled, a warning sign of what was coming next. Isaac made it to the edge of the stage and gestured to Mark, vividly aware of the audience watching everything.
DeeDee gestured to Logan. A moment later, the spotlight went off, the room lights came on, and the ambient music began again. Thank God.
“We’re going to take a short pit stop, everyone,” Logan announced. “It’s time for chocolate.”
“Where are his own clothes?” Isaac muttered. “I’m taking him home.”
“No, you can’t.” DeeDee gazed at him in dismay.
“I wanna go home,” Mark said in a hitching voice.
His heart broke for Mark’s humiliation. In the wake of that pain, anger rode in. “He just fell on his ass in front of a roomful of people. It’s not a shining moment.”
DeeDee looked at him, then very deliberately squatted down to sit cross-legged on the stage beside Mark, tugging the robe over her bare legs. “Mark. Are you hurt? Did you hit your head?”
Mark snuffled and leaned against her. “No. Only my butt. And, DeeDee, I lost a shoe.”
She gave him a tight side-hug. “It’s right here. Let me help you put it back on.”
“Forget the shoe,” Isaac said.
DeeDee ignored him. She took Mark’s chin in her hand and looked directly at him. “Mark, the only way to handle this is to get back on your feet and finish it. Are you brave enough for that?”
“Deirdre,” Isaac began.
She turned the force of her gaze on him then. “He can do this, Isaac. Trust me. Trust him.”
She gave Mark another squeeze. “Do what I do, okay, honey? It’s going to be okay. Isaac, please take your seat.”
She gestured again to Logan as Isaac reluctantly went back to his chair. He’d spent so many years fighting Mark’s battles because someone had to stick up for him. But had his well-meant protection kept his brother from discovering his own inner strength?
The Chocolate Comeback (Love at the Chocolate Shop Book 7) Page 18