The Wedding Dress Yes (Crossroads Collection)

by Amanda Tru

  Well, it’s been a pretty weird day so far. Auntie’s at the hospital. Mom’s there, and so are Dad and Emily and Uncle Simon. Mom and Dad didn’t think it’d be a good idea for me to hang around, so I’m staying home with my big sister Blessing and my cousins, and in a little bit Becky’s coming over too.

  I’ve been praying for Baby Grace and Auntie and their whole family all morning. Mom says she’ll call as soon as the surgery’s over and she hears what happens. I’m not nearly as good at praying as she is, but I’m trying. So far, I’ve been doing better keeping my mind from wandering as much.

  Mom says she brought the dress Aunt Rhonda sewed in the trunk of her car just in case, but she’s got a good feeling and really hopes that Grace won’t be needing it, at least for today. Dad says that if at any point I get sad news, and I need to cry, I can go ahead and cry.

  Becky’s Mom is at work, so she can’t come over yet, but we’ve been texting some, and Becky says that she’s praying for Grace too. And that gets me thinking about the conversation Mom, and I had about how maybe God’s using me to help Becky and maybe even her whole family become better Christians, so I asked Becky if she wants to ask her Mom to come to church with us again this weekend, and she says she will.

  While I’m waiting, I’ve got some little gifts to put in baggies to help Mom get ready for that big wedding reenactment. I didn’t know you’re supposed to give out presents to your guests when you do something like that, but Mom says it’d be nice. So I’m folding up these little fancy papers that have printed Bible verses on them and adding them to tiny bags with chocolates and some colored rocks. I totally get wanting chocolates, and it makes sense Mom would want Bible verses to go with them, but I still don’t know what the colored rocks are there for unless it’s to make the bags look like there’s more in them.

  In a way, I’m glad for something to do, but I also kind of wish I could be there at the hospital because as soon as Baby Grace comes out, I want to know if she’s all right. I begged Dad to call me right away and tell me. He said, “I’ll do my best, son,” which for him is just as good as a promise.

  So now I’m waiting for the phone to ring and I’m texting Becky and trying to ignore my obnoxious cousins, who keep wanting to come in here and mess up all my Legos. It’s been kind of a long day, and it’s not even lunchtime yet. It’s only about ten, which I think means that Auntie’s starting her surgery just about now, so I’m going to go ahead and do more praying, then I’ll write more as soon as I hear anything.

  So you know how sometimes people say, “I’ve got good news, and I’ve got bad news,” and they use that phrase so much you don’t even think about it anymore? That’s kind of what I’m feeling right now except I really do mean it.

  We’ll start with the good news. Baby Grace was born right around eleven, and she was bigger than anyone expected and weighs almost a full six pounds, which is really healthy for a baby.

  So that’s the good news.

  The bad news is she definitely has that sickness the doctors talked about earlier, the one with the extra chromosome. And that means she might end up being kind of like Spencer, one of those babies who’s always kind of sick and maybe doesn’t learn to walk or talk as soon as other kids. But I know Auntie, and I know Uncle Simon, and I know they’ll be just fine with that.

  The doctors told Auntie and Uncle Simon that “she’s not out of the woods yet,” by which they mean something really bad could still happen before they get the chance to bring Grace home. But they also said there must have been a lot of people praying for her on account of her lungs working way better than the doctors at first expected.

  Auntie Hannah is doing well after the surgery. Mom says she’ll be sore for a while, and she’s not supposed to move too much, but Uncle Simon’s taking time off work so he can help take care of her at her home. I’m actually kind of sad she won’t be around here every day.

  It's only been a few hours now since Grace was born, and the doctors told her parents they’ll know a lot more as time passes. The way Dad put it when we talked on the phone, it sounds like maybe God’s doing a miracle right now, but we won’t know for sure right away. So basically Grace is okay at this exact minute, but she still might end up not being okay, and the only way we’ll really know is to wait.

  I’m not sure I like the idea of waiting all that much, to be honest, but Dad says if Grace hasn’t gotten any worse by dinnertime and if Auntie and Uncle Simon say it’s okay, he’ll come back and pick me up so I can say hi to them at the hospital. I might not get to see Grace right away on account of her being in a special part of the hospital for sick babies, but I can say hi to Auntie at least and ask any questions I have then about Baby Grace and how she’s doing.

  I just got home from seeing Auntie and her family at the hospital. I couldn’t see Baby Grace, but Mom had a lot of pictures on her phone, so she showed me those, and Grace looks really tiny but otherwise just like a normal baby.

  Auntie was really tired, so I didn’t talk to her too much. But I went on a walk with Uncle Simon, and I think it may be the longest talk we’ve ever had even though it was probably only four or five minutes.

  He said he wanted to thank me for being such a good friend to Auntie and Emily while he’s been at work and that he knows my prayers are part of what made Baby Grace get born so strong. And since I hadn’t been able to get a straight answer yet out of Mom or Dad, and since Auntie was too tired to talk much, I asked Uncle Simon if Baby Grace was going to die.

  “You know what, Woong?” he said. “Only God can answer that question. But seeing how strong she is even with the condition she has, it’s given me a lot of hope.”

  So I thought about that and wondered if maybe it was the longest thing Uncle Simon’s said not only to me but to anyone in his entire life, and I asked, “So did God do that miracle after all?” Because to be honest, I’ve been a little confused. I was sort of expecting today to go one way or the other. Either God would make Grace all better, and she wouldn’t have that disease at all, or she’d have the disease and die, and God would take her up to heaven.

  Uncle Simon thought for a while (he’s a very thoughtful man), and he said, “You know what, Woong? I don’t know how long we’re going to have Grace with us, but whatever happens, I think it’s safe to say yes. God’s given us a miracle.”

  And then I knew for sure that was the most Uncle Simon’s ever said, and I started to wonder if maybe he was going to need a nap or something. But he looked just as fine as always. So I said, “You know we made a dress for Baby Grace. Just in case.” I didn’t say anything else on account of it sounding a little inconsiderate at the time, but I could tell he knew what I meant.

  “That was very thoughtful of you,” he said, and I told him it was kind of Dad and Mom and my idea all at once, and it was my aunt who actually did the sewing part.

  “Well, thank you all very much,” he said.

  “It’s in the trunk of the car right now,” I told him. We were getting close to Auntie’s hospital room by then, and Uncle Simon put his hand on my shoulder, and he said, “You know what, Woong? I think that’s a really good place for it.”

  So for right now, that dress is in a box all taped up and sitting in the bottom of Mom’s trunk.

  And you know what? Uncle Simon’s right.

  That’s just the right place for it.

  The End

  1. Have you ever known anybody with a child as ill as Grace?

  2. What would you say to encourage someone in this situation?

  3. Do you have siblings? Do you quarrel like Sandy and Rhonda?

  4. What part of this story was the most touching for you?

  5. Have you read real-life stories of other believers in a situation like Hannah and Simon?

  6. How would you feel if your family heirloom dress was turned into something else like this?

  7. Does this story bring anybody to mind who might be going through a hard time? How can you pray for or encourage them
?

  8. How could a church body help a family going through a situation like this?

  www.alanaterry.com

  Alana Terry is a pastor's wife, homeschooling mom, self-diagnosed chicken lady, and Christian suspense author. Her novels have won awards from Women of Faith, Book Club Network, Grace Awards, Readers' Favorite, and more.

  Alana's passion for social justice, human rights, and religious freedom shines through her writing, and her books are known for raising tough questions without preaching. She and her family live in rural Alaska where the northern lights in the winter and midnight sun in the summer make hauling water, surviving the annual mosquito apocalypse, and cleaning goat stalls in negative forty degrees worth every second.

  Author Site: www.alanaterry.com

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  Infected (Book 6): Isolated in a hospital lockdown during a global epidemic, Kennedy can only guess who will survive.

  Abridged (Book 7): When the fight for women’s rights becomes a struggle for mere survival.

  Hello Crossroads Reader!

  My very real world prayer is that Sewn Together blessed you and touched your heart, and that hearing this story from Woong’s point of view was a heart-warming experience.

  It is now my sincere joy to introduce the fifth and final book in this collection, The Wedding Dress Yes by the always accomplished Amanda Tru. Amanda and I have been writing buddies (and even prayer partners) for years now, and she’s truly the heart, soul, and creative mind behind these Crossroad Collections. I love working with Amanda, not only because she’s such a great author, but because she’s such a lovely example of Christian love.

  In The Wedding Dress Yes, Amanda introduces top fashion designer London Hutchins, who creates herself a wedding dress for each guy she ever dates. After the Hollywood shine has dulled, London packs up her closet full of gowns and her successful design business to head back home to Crossroads. There she finds her high school sweetheart waiting. London accepts an offer to set up her business in the local bridal shop owned by the kindhearted Rhonda Snow. However, London soon suspects Rhonda might not be the patron saint everyone believes. Helping out a few of Rhonda’s clients can’t possibly hurt anything, right? Just as long as no one finds out!

  Please enjoy this meaningful story that is sure to touch your heart while offering intermittent bouts of giggles, and we’ll see you soon back at the Crossroads!

  Author of Sewn Together

  a novella by

  Published by

  Published By

  Walker Hammond Publishers

  Copyright Notice

  The Wedding Dress Yes, original copyright © 2019 by Amanda Tru

  All rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, or recording—without express written permission by the authors and publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed or broadcasted articles and reviews.

  Each book in this collection is the intellectual property and the copyrighted material of the respective author and/or publisher and is reprinted as a part of this collection (anthology) only once and only by permission of the owners. The publisher makes no claim on, or to, the property of the owners which exceeds that permission. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the authors’ imagination or intended to be used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, organizations, places, or persons living or dead is purely coincidental and beyond the intention of either the authors or the publisher. The characters are products of the authors’ imaginations and used fictitiously.

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” Rhonda Snow gushed, fluffing the skirt of the wedding dress out to flare like a bulbous, white bell below the bride’s waist.

  At the bride’s hesitation, London Hutchins pushed aside the long, medium-blonde, hair escaping from her messy bun and covertly looked up from her detail work on the material in front of her. She didn’t want to appear to eavesdrop on one of Rhonda’s clients. After all, though London worked out of Rhonda’s bridal boutique, their businesses were completely different. London didn’t want to interfere, but the enthusiastic, emotional response of a typical bride remained a blank, tension-filled silence that carried across to her work station as the seconds lengthened.

  Unfortunately, London immediately recognized the problem, almost flinching at the sight of the bride facing the full-length, three-paneled mirror.

  “Oh, it is beautiful!” The bride’s mother finally filled in before her daughter’s silence could be construed as openly rude. “It is exactly how I pictured my daughter as a bride! Oh, Danielle! You’re a vision! I can’t believe my baby is getting married!” The mother sniffled and dabbed a tissue beneath her tearing eyes.

  London’s heart went out to the bride as if she could read her every thought through the emotions playing across the delicate face in the mirror. Actually, London knew it was probably just one thought repeating over and over, inescapable from every angle of the mirror or tilt of the head.

  The dress was hideous.

  Not just a “not the style I like” hideous, but a hideous that should be recognized as ugly in every culture or time period, except apparently to the two matrons flanking the clearly distraught bride.

  “But it isn’t exactly how I pictured it, Mom,” Danielle finally managed with trembling lips.

  Good for you! London silently cheered.

  “Oh, honey, but it is!” the mother disagreed as if she knew her daughter’s thoughts better than Danielle did herself. “This is the exact dress we chose weeks ago, only this one fits you so much better!”

  “No, Mom, this is the dress you chose. I wanted a simpler sleeveless dress with less... fluff.” Danielle lifted some of the abundant skirt decorating her hips and let it drop back down heavily.

  “Danielle, we talked and agreed that this one is so much more flattering and modest,” the mother insisted. “The sleeveless styles show so much skin. We didn’t want you to be embarrassed on your wedding day. Besides, with your dad’s position as a deacon in the church, this dress is far more appropriate.”

  “But it isn’t what I wanted for my wedding,” Danielle braved again.

  “Well, it’s too late now,” her mother replied, her patience thinni
ng to reveal tense, fine lines around her tightening lips. “The wedding is two weeks away. You’d think a girl would be grateful for a beautiful wedding dress. After all, you could have worn mine, but you wanted something new. I just didn’t realize that your father and I would spend so much money only for you to be ungrateful.”

  Danielle’s face turned rosy, and the threatening sobs seemed to gain territory. “But isn’t a bride supposed to like her wedding dress?” she whispered brokenly.

  “Oh, but you do like it!” Rhonda spoke up enthusiastically. “You’re just nervous. I see it all the time with brides. The dream of the wedding day is so big that when the time gets close, they fear the reality won’t measure up. But it will. When your mom and I saw you step out in this gown, we both knew it was the one. Remember, you looked so beautiful that your Mom started crying! I work with brides all of the time, and you really are one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen!”

  No! Don’t say that! London inwardly groaned. Danielle was obviously smart and possessed keen enough eyesight to clearly see the state of her appearance. Instead of encouraging her, Rhonda’s words could only prove that either the bridal shop owner was exaggerating to the point of lying, or she was blind.

  Confirming London’s suspicions, the distraught young woman found no comfort at all. Instead, her shoulders stooped, and her head bent in defeat.

  “Honey, Rhonda works with brides all the time,” the mother said, seeming to take her cue from Rhonda and switch tactics to a more comforting approach. “She knows what she’s talking about. If she thinks the dress is beautiful on you, then it is. Sometimes our hormones and emotions play tricks on us.”