The Wedding Dress

by Mary O'Donnell

  After taking his own seat, Andrew turned to Annie and said, “I hope we will have some time in the future to discuss Captain Grey.”

  Annie tried to hide her disappointment. Thinking about it, she imagined that it wasn’t his habit to discuss all of the details of his research while he was working on a project. “I look forward to that discussion Mr. … I mean, Andrew. I’m afraid I won’t be much help as a ‘longtime resident’—I only moved into Grey Gables after my grandmother died. But if there’s anything you need to know about Stony Point, our mayor is the man to see.”

  Ian smiled, but modestly brushed aside the compliment. Speaking to Andrew he said, “I appreciate your call to let us know that you’ll be working in the area.”

  “Actually, I’ve been around for a while, doing some research and checking out the locality. I’ve rented some space on Main Street—over the store Dress to Impress—for a studio. I hope that I can trust in you both to keep my purpose here to yourselves as much as possible. I’m not what you’d call a celebrity, but nevertheless, it has happened that certain ‘fans’—for want of a better word—have been known to follow me about if they know where I am, and I’d really like to avoid that. I need solitude when I’m painting, for the most part, and the fewer distractions, the better,” said Andrew. “I like to inform the powers that be—usually the mayor, or the head of the town council—about what I’m doing, in case any questions arise. And of course, I have to inform the owners of private property when I want to make a painting of a house like yours, Annie.”

  “What other places are you looking at as possible subjects?” Ian asked.

  “Besides Grey Gables … I want to include Butler’s Lighthouse and the fisherman’s harbor; also the Town Square and the library, of course—it’s an outstanding example of the Greek-Revival style that was popular from the late eighteenth to the mid-nineteenth century, and it says a great deal about the early citizens of Stony Point, and of Maine itself.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Annie.

  “The architecture of a place is about more than just providing shelter and being pleasant to look at; both private and public buildings, and the surrounding spaces, tell us about the character of the people who built them and of the people who have lived and worked in them since, by what they have seen fit to preserve. When the town of Stony Point was being formed, shipbuilding and shipping was a major part of that growth—that was the case throughout Maine, for that matter. The seafaring life was hard, but it gave men a chance to see the world. They had an opportunity to see how others lived, and it made them conscious of better ways—and worse. Naturally, a better way of life was something they wanted to provide for their families. They thought about their progeny in the distant future too—they wanted to leave something that would endure for those generations that were yet to come. If you know what to look for, you can almost read the minds of those from the past in public buildings, and the private ones as well. Grey Gables, for instance, shows that the architect, the builder, the owner, all wanted to make something that was more than just pleasing to the eye. I sense that there was an effort to express their knowledge of the world beyond the confines of a small, if you’ll forgive me, Mayor, backwater town, and their hopes for a grander future.”

  “That’s quite all right,” Ian said. “Stony Point has come a long way since the early days in many respects, but speaking as a lifetime resident and mayor, our goal has never been about growth for growth’s sake, or to achieve any kind of ‘grandeur.’ We’re interested in maintaining a way of life for our citizens that includes opportunities—good jobs and good schools—and a sense of community that provides a safe and accepting atmosphere where families and individuals can put down roots. It’s not just a place to live; it’s home.”

  “Spoken like a true politician … and a good man who loves his community,” said Andrew tactfully. “It was not my intention to denigrate Stony Point. I love small towns. That’s one of the reasons I’ve made capturing them on canvas my life’s work. I’m actually saying the same thing as you are—that the people responsible for building structures like the library and Grey Gables had the same hopes for the residents of Stony Point as you have just described, though newcomers may have had a more difficult time fitting in to the established structure back then.”

  There’s still some of that resistance to newcomers, thought Annie, remembering some of her first experiences in Stony Point when she was new in town after Gram’s death—and she was not even a complete outsider, as the granddaughter of Charlie and Betsy Holden. She was so thankful for the friendship with Alice in her first few weeks in Stony Point. She might have just given up and gone back to Texas. No, she contradicted herself, I wouldn’t have; it’s not in my nature.

  Andrew continued, “But I think there was an expectation, at least by some of the early leaders, that Stony Point could one day rival Boston and Portland. They invested time and treasure in city planning that resulted in the charm that draws tourists here today. There are many small towns along the coast, but most people agree that Stony Point offers something special, and it keeps them coming back year after year.”

  Ian agreed, “That’s one of the things that visitors often tell us—that Stony Point is ‘charming’ and makes them feel like they’ve returned to a more gracious time.”

  With that comment, the waitress came to their table to take their orders. Ian and Andrew continued to talk about the various locations that Andrew was interested in painting, and Ian offered many insights into the history of Stony Point. It had been his family who were responsible for the construction of the lighthouse that bore their name, and he offered to introduce Andrew to his brother, Todd, who had a fleet of lobster boats and knew a lot about the history of the harbor.

  Annie listened to the two men with interest. She knew that Ian was a fount of knowledge about all things concerning Stony Point, but she was impressed by his ability to converse with such ease with Andrew Gareth, whose experience of the world-at-large would appear to be greater than Ian’s, about aspects of art and history in a much wider context than the local scene. She had to admit: The more she learned about Ian Butler, the more she liked him.

  The three ate their meal in a leisurely fashion, coupled with intense conversation not only about Stony Point, but also about Andrew’s previous work, and why he felt it was important to try to capture the essential individuality of each state on canvas. By the time they had finished with their desserts, the restaurant was considerably less crowded.

  Even Ian seemed surprised at how quickly the time had flown. Glancing at his watch, he said, “How did it get to be two o’clock? I’m sorry to break this off, but I have a council meeting this afternoon.” Ian stood and extended his hand to Andrew. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you Andrew, and I look forward to more discussions while you’re here in Stony Point. Be sure to let me know if there is anything I can do to help you with your project.” He turned to Annie and said, “Thanks so much for joining us, Annie. May I see you to your car?”

  “No thanks, Ian,” Annie replied, “I have a couple more errands to take care of in town before I head back to Grey Gables. Thanks for inviting me. I’ve learned a lot today, listening to the both of you. It’s been really interesting.”

  Looking at Annie, Andrew said, “Shall we arrange to meet to discuss the portrait of Grey Gables?”

  “Certainly … ,” Annie replied. “Would next Monday work for you? It should be calm and quiet at Grey Gables—I don’t have any plans for the day, and it’s unlikely that anything will disturb us.”

  “Monday it is then. I’ll give you a call later in the week, and we can set a specific time. I’d like to do a few sketches of the exterior to try to find the best aspect for the painting. I’m really looking forward to seeing the interior of Grey Gables too.”

  4

  The following Saturday morning found Annie, a basket in hand, standing in the attic of Grey Gables surveying the work that Wally had completed. Annie ha
d gone the practical route, choosing two lengths of track lighting that Wally had installed along the underside of the ridge of the roof. Now she could flip a switch from beside the door instead of struggling to make her way to the center of the room to pull a string for the single bare lightbulb that used to hang there. The new lighting wasn’t exactly what Annie would have called attractive, but it accomplished what she had wanted; the directional lamps lit all the corners of the attic.

  However, rather than encouraging her, at the moment it only seemed to magnify the enormity of her never-ending task: sorting through the detritus of her grandmother’s attic. It seemed like the extra light had magically multiplied the number of boxes and containers. She noticed more dust and cobwebs. She began to wonder, Am I ever going to be able to finish this?

  Looking at her watch, she knew she couldn’t just stand there all day. How did it get to be ten o’clock? She normally spent Saturday mornings getting caught up on cleaning jobs around the rest of the house, a habit she’d acquired when she was working full-time at the car dealership in Texas. This had taken on an added urgency since Andrew was coming over on Monday. She wanted to show Grey Gables at its best, or its best possible at the time being.

  She’d already gotten behind schedule because of a phone call from a friend in Texas. It was great to catch up on the news in Brookfield, but they’d talked for over an hour. Afterward, she’d come up to the attic to see if she could find a basket she could use to store some new skeins of yarn that she had bought at A Stitch in Time on Friday. She accomplished her mission, but then she had gotten sidetracked as she looked over the attic with its new, brighter aspect.

  She switched off the lights and headed back down the attic stairs, ticking off the list of things she wanted to get done before lunchtime: the kitchen and mudroom floors needed to be washed; the library seriously needed dusting, and the living room carpet swept; there was that pile of ironing she’d been putting off … and she’d have to make sure she had enough time to shower and change before two o’clock, the time when Tony Palmers’ homecoming party was planned to begin.

  Annie was halfway down the main staircase, noticing that the dark wooden balusters that held up the banister could use a good polish too, when the telephone in the living room began to ring. Picking up her pace, Annie was breathing slightly heavier when she got to the phone. She was surprised to hear Gwendolyn Palmers’ voice on the line.

  “Annie? Could you come over to Wedgewood right away? I’m afraid I need your help.”

  “Of course, Gwen—is everything all right?” asked Annie.

  “Yes, we’re all right … it’s just … I mean, there’s just been an unexpected development, and … I’ll explain when you get here. Please just come as soon as you can.” And with that Gwen hung up the phone.

  Annie stood for only a moment looking at the receiver in her hand. How very odd, she thought. It wasn’t like Gwen to be so cryptic. Immediately, Annie went to get her purse and keys from the side table in the entry hall. She glanced in the oval mirror that hung above the table. She’d barely combed her hair that morning, and she wasn’t wearing any makeup. Au naturel it is, she thought as she ran her fingers through her hair in an attempt to tidy it. Guess it goes with the jeans and T-shirt look.

  The Palmers’ home, called Wedgewood, was just around the hill from Grey Gables on Ocean Drive, and between the time it took Annie to walk out the door, get in her car, start it, and drive to the Palmers’ house, it took less than ten minutes to arrive. In fact, Annie and Alice planned to walk over together to the Palmers’ for the party that afternoon. But Gwendolyn had sounded so strange on the phone; Annie wanted to get there as quickly as she could.

  Annie pulled her classic Malibu into the Palmers’ driveway. In front of the stand-alone two-car garage there was a midnight blue sports car with a Massachusetts license plate. That must be Tony’s car, she thought. As she got out of her own car, Annie took in Wedgewood’s perfectly kept lawn and formal garden, which was interspersed with straight, stone-covered footpaths and surrounded with a wrought-iron fence. There were no humble wildflowers here; cultivated roses of ivory and pink contrasted beautifully with the Wedgewood blue siding of the house. Dahlias, gladiolus, chrysanthemums, and asters bloomed amid well-groomed shrubbery. Annie sighed. She felt she’d never be able to achieve anything so refined at Grey Gables.

  In the open area of the ample back lawn, a large, green- and white–striped marquee had been set up for the party that afternoon, underneath which were several long tables along with folding chairs that were placed around each one. The forecast was for sunny and hot; Annie thought an outdoor get-together was a fun idea, and the shade of the open-sided tent would be welcome by two o’clock in the afternoon. She was stopped at that thought when Gwen came outside through the side garden to meet her.

  “Thank you for coming so quickly, Annie,” Gwen said in a low, conspiratorial tone of voice. “I’ve had a bit of a … surprise, and I want to get this all straightened out before our guests arrive this afternoon.”

  “What is it, Gwen?” asked Annie, almost whispering. “I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

  Gwen’s face colored a bit before she answered, “Well, Tony is here, and he’s brought someone with him. … A girl.”

  When Annie’s face showed that she didn’t understand the problem, Gwen continued, her words pouring out, “He says this girl is his fiancée! He met her in Ireland, during his tour, and now he’s brought her home. And he expects her to stay here, of all things. I just can’t … I don’t know … and what will John say when he gets home from the bank at noon? I called all of the local hotels, and they’re all booked. He hardly knows this girl. I just don’t know what he was thinking. ... You see, our daughter Meredith and her family are here from North Carolina to stay this entire week; she and Frank, her husband, and the grandkids went to explore the downtown shops this morning before Tony arrived. Our son George and his wife, Sandra, are driving in from Portland today—they’re just staying over the weekend. They should be here any time now. We wanted to have the whole family together. There just isn’t room in the house for an extra person, and besides, how would it look to have her staying here with us?”

  Annie began to get the picture. “Would you like her to come and stay with me at Grey Gables?” she asked.

  “Oh, yes! That was just what I was hoping. Thank you so much, Annie!” Gwen gave Annie a quick hug, obviously grateful that she didn’t have to ask outright for her son’s fiancée to stay with Annie.

  “Would you like her to come with me now?” asked Annie.

  “Yes … I think that would be best. That way she could get settled in, and she could return with you this afternoon for the party. I hope this isn’t too much of an imposition, Annie. I really appreciate it. I was just so surprised when he showed up with her this morning and introduced her as his fiancée.”

  “Well, as I recall, you did say that he told you he was bringing you a surprise,” said Annie.

  Gwen led Annie back the way she had come, through the enclosed back porch, which was neater and more finely decorated than most people’s front entry, and into the kitchen where a handsome young man and a strikingly beautiful girl sat on stools beside a granite-topped kitchen island. Both stood as Annie and Gwen entered the kitchen.

  Tony Palmer was a perfect blend of his parents. He was tall and muscular, and while he mostly favored his father in the firm set of his jaw and his brown hair, he had his mother’s expressive, pale blue eyes. When he looked at the young woman standing next to him, Annie thought she could clearly read his feelings; he was not just smitten with this girl. He was in love.

  Tony’s fiancée was stunning, but she didn’t seem to be aware of it. Her thick, reddish–dark brown hair cascaded over her shoulders, complementing her clear, peaches-and-cream complexion. She was small and delicate-looking. Her green-gold–color eyes shined with intelligence, and Annie thought, in the right circumstances, good humor. At that moment, howeve
r, her expression was guarded. Annie didn’t blame her; the feeling of the awkwardness of the situation was almost palpable.

  “Annie, this is my son Tony,” said Gwen, “Tony, this is Mrs. Dawson.”

  Tony reached out to shake hands with Annie, smiling slightly as he grasped her hand. In a quiet baritone-range voice he said, “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you. Mrs. Holden was my favorite neighbor when I was a kid. I used to mow the lawn for her sometimes. She made the best oatmeal-chocolate chip cookies. I was sorry to hear that she had passed away.”

  “And this,” Gwen paused dramatically as she waved her hand toward the girl, “is Tony’s fiancée … Drev … I’m sorry, dear, how is it you pronounce your first name again?” Tony face registered embarrassment at his mother’s gaffe.

  Tony’s fiancée held out her hand to Annie and said in a lilting voice with a soft Irish accent, “Hello, Mrs. Dawson. I’m Dervla … Dervla O’Keefe.

  Annie smiled and took Dervla’s hand and responded, “It’s very nice to meet both you and Tony, and please call me Annie.”

  “Annie has offered to have Dervla stay at Grey Gables; it’s just around the hill from us,” Gwen said, directing the last part to Dervla.

  “Mom, it’s the twenty-first century, and we’re engaged … she can just stay in my room—”

  “She most certainly will not be staying with you in your room, young man. Not under my roof. I don’t care what century it is,” Gwen said with force, the tone of her voice rising with each syllable.

  “I didn’t mean ‘with me’,” Tony said with exasperation in his voice. “I meant that I can sleep on the sofa, or on the floor in the family room for that matter. I don’t understand why you’re getting so upset.”