The Wedding Dress

by Mary O'Donnell

  Dervla reached out to touch Tony’s hand and said, “Tony, it’s fine. I understand your mother’s reservations completely. I can find a hotel to stay at while I’m here. I’m sorry, Mrs. Palmer. We should have called to prepare you, but Tony wanted to surprise you, and we thought it would be fun. We should have realized that you might need to make other arrangements.”

  “Dervla, there’s no need to stay at a hotel,” Annie said, not wanting to reveal that Gwen had already called every hotel in the vicinity. “I have lots of room, and I’m just down the street. I’d be really happy to have you come and stay as long as you’d like.”

  Dervla hesitated, and looking at Tony said, “That would be OK, wouldn’t it, Tony?”

  “Thank you, Annie,” Gwen said with obvious relief, not waiting for Tony’s reply, “and thank you, Dervla, for understanding my position.”

  Tony said, “If that’s the way it’s going to be, I’ll drive Dervla down to Grey Gables and help get her settled, if that’s all right with you, Annie. Our luggage is still in the car.”

  “But Tony, everyone will be coming home shortly—your father, and Meredith and Frank, and you haven’t seen your nieces and nephew in ages. And George and Sandra should be here by lunchtime too,” said Gwen.

  “We’ll be right back, Mother, I’m just going to help carry in Dervla’s luggage.”

  “I thought maybe Dervla would like to stay at Annie’s for a while and rest up before the party this afternoon. I thought we could just have the family together for lunch,” said Gwen.

  Tony’s expression was grim. “She is family, Mother. We are going to be married. You should apologize to Dervla.”

  “No, Tony. It’s all right,” said Dervla, trying to hide her distress. “I … I am rather tired. I can meet the rest of your family later this afternoon.”

  Annie looked at the trio: Tony looked like thunder, Gwen appeared unrepentant for her careless remark, and Dervla was near to tears. It seemed best to get things moving.

  “It would be great if you could come and help with Dervla’s luggage, Tony. The guest room is on the second floor,” said Annie.

  Without another word to or look at his mother, Tony took Dervla’s hand in his and said to Annie, “We’ll wait for you outdoors, Annie.” Then the two exited the kitchen through the back porch.

  Annie looked at Gwen, wishing she could advise her. She knew that Gwen could be … for want of a better word … snobbish, but she’d never seen her be outright unkind. How could Gwen not see that she was hurting her son’s and future daughter-in-law’s feelings with her attitude? It was understandable that she was concerned about accommodations for everyone. What Annie didn’t understand was how Gwen was handling the news that her youngest son was engaged. What should have been a joyous occasion was now spoiled.

  But then, Annie thought, it isn’t as easy as that. She tried to imagine how she would have received a new son-in-law if LeeAnn had brought home someone she had just met over a vacation in a foreign land. Yes … that would have been difficult. As it was, Herb Sorenson was someone the family had known as a teenager, and it was only after the two young people had gone away to college that they fell in love and became engaged. Their announcement had been a long-expected development, and it was a happy one for Wayne and herself.

  A line from an old song that was popular when Annie was young came to mind: “Before you abuse, criticize, and accuse, walk a mile in my shoes.” Gwen was probably doing the best she could under the circumstances. Annie decided it was best not to speak of it for the time being. If and when Gwen wanted to talk to her about it, she’d be there for her.

  “We’ll be back this afternoon, Gwen,” said Annie as she headed for the back door. “I’m sure everything is going to work out for the best.”

  “I hope so, Annie,” said Gwen.

  By the time Annie came out of the house, Dervla was already seated in the passenger seat of Tony’s car with the windows rolled down, as the heat of the day had started to build. Tony was leaning over, talking to her through the window. When he saw Annie, he walked over to admire the Malibu.

  “This is a great old car, Mrs. Dawson. You’ve kept it in prime condition.”

  “Please do call me Annie, Tony. The Malibu was a gift from my late husband for my birthday one year. I’d hate to have to part with it, so it behooves me to take good care of it. I want it to keep it as long as I can.”

  As Tony opened the driver’s-side door for Annie, he said, “Thanks for putting up Dervla, Annie. I really didn’t think that Mom would react this way. I thought she’d be happy for me … for us. I know that it’s sudden, but I couldn’t leave her behind in Ireland; I love Dervla.”

  “I can see that you do,Tony,” Annie said, “but try to look at the situation from your mother’s point of view. Dervla’s a beautiful girl, but you’ve known her such a short time.”

  “I know it sounds corny, but I would have asked her to marry me the very first day I met her if I thought she would have accepted me. It’s not because she’s beautiful to look at; lots of women are pretty. There’s something special about her that’s more than skin-deep. I just knew it right away, that she was the one for me,” Tony said, pausing for a moment to glance at the young woman whom he’d asked to be his bride.

  He continued, “We met the first week of what was supposed to be my tour of the British Isles. I’d made my way to County Kerry after flying in to Dublin from the States, and I’d planned to see the sights in Killarney. Then, I was going to travel around the coast, before heading over to Scotland. After I met Dervla, I never moved on. I canceled the rest of my trip and stayed in town to be near her. We’d meet every day and have lunch or dinner together—sometimes both if she was free. We really have come to know each other very well—better than some people who’ve dated over a longer period of time, but haven’t really spent as much time together as we have. We didn’t waste time with small talk, but really spoke to each other about things in life that are important to us. We share a common outlook, and I’d rather be with her than with anyone else. She’s wonderful, Annie. She’s smart and honest and good. I love her with all my heart.”

  Annie looked at Tony and knew that he was sincere. Dervla was beautiful, so it was easy to imagine that he was only taken with her looks, but Annie believed that his feelings were deeper than that. Tony wasn’t a child, but of course, he would want to have his family’s blessing when he got married. It looked like it was going to take quite a bit to convince his mother, at least, that he was doing the right thing.

  5

  After returning to Grey Gables, Annie led the way inside, carrying Dervla’s small suitcase. Dervla followed, her backpack slung over her shoulder, and next came Tony, carrying her very substantial suitcase. Annie imagined it couldn’t have been very easy for Dervla to pack up to come so far for a permanent move. When Annie came to Grey Gables, it wasn’t with the intention of staying on, so she had only packed as if she was going away for a short vacation. LeeAnn had had to go to Annie’s house in Brookfield to send more things when it appeared that Annie would be staying longer than anticipated. She began to wonder about Dervla’s family. What had her parents said about their daughter coming to the States? Would the wedding be held here, or in Ireland?

  Tony interrupted her thoughts, “If it’s all right, I’ll just carry this up to the second floor, and then I’ll head straight back to Wedgewood. I want to be there when Dad gets home.”

  After he had deposited the case in the second-floor hallway, Tony bounded back down the stairs with an energy that Annie envied. Taking the small suitcase and the backpack from Annie and Dervla, Tony said, “I’ll just carry these up too.” When he returned the second time, Annie noted that even after two trips up and down the staircase, Tony wasn’t breathing any heavier than if he had just taken a stroll through the garden. Oh to be so young and fit!

  Tony took Dervla’s hands in his and said, “Are you sure you don’t want to come home with me for lunch? It rea
lly will be all right.”

  “I’ll be fine here, Tony. I think your mother needs a little space to get used to the idea that her youngest son is going to get married. And I am still a little jet-lagged. It will be better if I can get some rest before meeting the remainder of your family.”

  “They are your family now too. I know that they will love you. Please don’t be discouraged by my mother’s reaction. I’ll be back here about a quarter to two to pick you both up.”

  “I’m just going to walk over to Wedgewood, Tony, so don’t worry about me,” said Annie.

  “I think I’ll walk with Annie, if that’s OK. After all the traveling we’ve done in the airplane and the car, it will be good to stretch my legs with a nice walk,” said Dervla.

  “If that’s what you want. I’ll be looking for you.” With that, Tony kissed Dervla gently on the lips and then headed out the door. “Thanks again, Annie. See you both soon.”

  After the front door closed behind Tony, Annie said to Dervla, “Why don’t we get you settled in your room first, and then I’ll see what I can rustle up for lunch.”

  Dervla started to reply, “That would be …” when suddenly she jumped slightly and said, “Oh!”

  Looking down at the floor, Annie saw the culprit. Boots was winding around Dervla’s ankles in an effort to be noticed. Both ladies started laughing, and Dervla reached down to scratch between the cat’s gray ears.

  “Looks like you have another new friend. This is Boots,” Annie explained. “She was my grandmother’s cat and has been a good companion since I came here from Texas. I mostly see her when she’s hungry, which is quite often, and she likes to snuggle in my lap—usually when I’m trying to crochet.”

  “I love cats, but I haven’t kept one for a long time. I lived in a dormitory for several years while I was at college—I graduated in June last year and returned to Killarney afterwards—but when I lived at home with my parents, we had two cats, an orange tabby named Shawn, and a black-and-white one named Queen Mab. I’d almost forgotten …”

  As her words trailed off, Dervla’s expression became very sad. Annie thought that perhaps she was feeling homesick and said, “Here we are standing, when you need to get some rest, and I definitely need to get tidied up. Let me show you up to your room so you can settle in before lunch. The kitchen is down this hallway to the right, and the library is across the hall to the left; so, if you need something to eat or drink, or some reading material, you are welcome to help yourself. Please feel free to explore Grey Gables at your leisure, and make yourself at home. I’m so glad to have you here—it will be nice to have some company—besides Boots, that is.”

  Annie and Dervla climbed the stairs and collected Dervla’s luggage from the hallway where Tony had left them, rolling the large one across the floor. Annie indicated the door of the visitor’s room and Dervla entered first. When she saw the wedding dress on the mannequin, still standing uncovered next to the bed, and the veil and gloves draped across the bed, Dervla exclaimed, “Ó, tá sé go hálainn … how beautiful!”

  The room was just as Annie had left it on Tuesday when she hurried to get to the Hook and Needle Club meeting on time. What with getting to have lunch with Ian and Andrew Gareth that day, and all the other activities that had filled her week, she hadn’t had a chance to think about her newest mystery.

  “I’m sorry, Dervla. I’d completely forgotten that I left these things out. I can just move them to another bedroom.”

  “Oh, please don’t. If you don’t mind, we can just move the dress to the corner.” Dervla reached out to examine one of the gloves. “What lovely handwork. Are these antiques? We Irish are known for our fine crochet. I’d almost say that these must have been worked by an Irish hand, but I might be a bit prejudiced in that regard.”

  Annie explained how she had found the dress and the other items in the attic, and had brought them down to the bedroom. “My impression was the same as yours,” Annie said. “I do think they are very old, and there’s a level of artistry here that would be hard to match. I don’t really have any idea who made them. It’s a bit of a mystery.”

  Dervla turned her attention to the hatbox. “This is lovely too. I’ve seen round boxes like this, but the ones I saw were just covered with decorated paper—this looks to be hand-painted. It’s a beautiful arrangement, and I like the way it’s held together with ribbon and lace; the ivy twining around the edge looks almost real. Do you know what kind of flowers these are?”

  Annie answered, “I know the names of most of the flowers, but there is one I don’t recognize.” Pointing to individual flowers on the hatbox, Annie said, “These blue ones are Jacob’s ladder; I think the little yellow flowers are primrose. Of course, those are violets. I like the greenery … the wispy little ferns and—I didn’t see this before—there’s even a four-leaf clover tucked in the side of the ribbon … just there. The lavender-color flowers that look like they have beards are pansies. These—with the pink clumps of petals and those long spindly things sticking out below—I don’t know what those are. Gram has a flower guide in the library. We’ll have to have a look and see if we can figure out what that last one is.”

  Dervla leaned forward to look at the details of the box more closely. “Don’t you think the lace looks crocheted? Do you think the same person who worked the crochet, painted the hatbox?” Dervla asked.

  “I don’t know,” Annie answered. “I admired the painting, but I really didn’t examine the details that well. It could be that both were made by the same person.”

  “Look at this,” said Dervla, pointing to a shaded area on one of the ribbon ends in the painting. “Are those letters? It looks like … ‘P.R.G.’”

  Now it was Annie’s turn to have a closer look. “You’re right! The color of the letters blends in so well with the color of the ribbon, you’d almost have to know they were there to see them. Well, ‘P.R.G.’ must be the painter’s initials; I can’t think what else they could mean.”

  “Do you know of anyone with those initials?”

  “No, I don’t,” said Annie, “but this house was built by someone whose last name started with a ‘G’—Grey, Captain Grey in fact, but his first name was Zacharias. Perhaps this was painted by a relative—a niece or a sister or something.”

  “Wasn’t he married?” asked Dervla.

  “I don’t think so. To tell the truth, I really don’t know; I’ve just assumed he was a bachelor because a friend of mine, Stella Brickson, said that he lived here alone. I only heard of him for the first time this week, so I don’t know much about him. … But I do know someone who has done research on the Captain.” Then Annie explained to Dervla about Andrew Gareth and his project, and told her that he was coming over to the house on Monday to work on his painting of Grey Gables.

  Dervla helped Annie move the mannequin to the corner, carefully lifting the bottom edge of the dress to prevent damage. Annie loosely folded the veil and placed it, along with the gloves, back in the hatbox.

  “If it’s all right with you, Dervla, I’ll put the box on top of the dresser. I’ll just get rid of that awful old hat,” said Annie.

  Dervla picked up the hat and laughed. “You’re right about it, Annie. It is sort of hideous. But if you don’t mind, instead of getting rid of it, will you allow me to work on it a bit, to see if I can do something with it? It might be fun, and it’s worth a try.”

  “As you wish,” Annie answered, “I’m all for recycling and reusing. Though, if you can make something presentable out of that, I’d say you’re a miracle worker!”

  Annie told Dervla she was welcome to put away her clothing in the dresser or hang them in the closet as needed, so she wouldn’t have to live out of her suitcase, and left her to settle in.

  Annie went to take a quick shower. When she was finished, she put on a light cotton floral sleeveless shift and sandals. She kept her makeup light, and her hair loose.

  The morning had gotten progressively hotter as it went on, but Grey Ga
bles seemed to handle the heat very well. The early ocean breezes that came in through the open windows had cooled the place nicely, and now Annie set about closing the windows before the outside air became too hot.

  In the kitchen, she decided something light was called for since there would no doubt be food to nosh on at Wedgewood later that afternoon. After she slipped a colorful apron over her dress, she put together a large salad of romaine lettuce, spinach leaves, celery, cucumbers, and spring onions, and topped it with sliced almonds and mandarin oranges. Then she whisked together oil, rice wine vinegar, a touch of Dijon mustard, sea salt, and freshly ground pepper to make a light dressing.

  Just as she finished, she heard the sound of the front doorbell. She opened it to find Alice, holding a basket with a cloth napkin draped over the top. Alice was dressed in beige capri pants and a matching top. Her long, thick auburn hair looked extra curly, and her cheeks were rosy, as if she’d been in a hothouse. “You’re just in time for lunch,” said Annie.

  “As was my cunning plan,” replied Alice as she entered. Alice took a long look at Annie’s attire. “Don’t you just look the picture of domesticity. For a moment I thought I must have stumbled back to the 1950s. All you need is a string of pearls around your neck.”

  “I just had my shower and got dressed for Gwen’s get-together, and I didn’t want to spoil my look with a giant splash of oil and vinegar in the middle of my dress, so I put on one of Gram’s old aprons. I think it suits me well, thank you very much. What’s in the basket?”

  “Only the best homemade rolls you’ve ever tasted,” said Alice. “I got the recipe from one of my clients. She served them at her Divine Décor party last week, and I convinced her to part with the recipe. The secret is to make the dough the day before and let it rise overnight in the fridge. I took it out first thing this morning, to let it warm to room temperature, and then I shaped it into rolls and let them rise. These’re fresh out of the oven! It made the carriage house a bit warm, but it was worth it. Besides, I knew I could come over here to cool down while my little window air conditioner tries to overcome the heat. These really are excellent—they’re so light and buttery, you really don’t even need to add butter or jam.” Alice lifted the corner of the napkin and the fresh-bread smell of the rolls made Annie’s mouth water.