by Amanda Tru
“Hello!” Rhonda called brightly, the ample thumb arriving with the rest of the woman attached. “Has my 3:00 shown up yet?”
“No, she hasn’t,” TeraLyn replied. “I prepped all of the dresses you had in mind for the fitting though. They’re ready.”
“Good,” Rhonda said, but then her voice changed. “TeraLyn, what are these?”
At the disgusted tone in Rhonda’s voice, London turned to see her standing by a table at the back of the shop and using two fingers to lift a corner of a cream-colored piece of material out of a plastic shopping bag as if the whole thing were covered in stinky goo.
“You asked me to stop by that estate sale, so I did,” TeraLyn explained. “Those are the things I picked up that I thought might be useful for Fairy Tale Closet.”
“Fairy Tale Closet?” London asked, not caring if they knew she was eavesdropping. “What’s that?”
“It’s a charity program Mom runs,” TeraLyn reported proudly. “She keeps a closet full of formal dresses and such. If a high schooler needs a dress for a dance but doesn’t have the money for one, she can come choose one for free from our Fairy Tale closet. We get girls coming from all over, even Brighton Falls.”
“I love that idea!” London cried, impressed by Rhonda’s thoughtfulness and generosity.
“Unfortunately, these dresses are all horrendous,” Rhonda sniffed disdainfully. I would have never chosen them. I’ll just toss them in the dumpster, and I’ll make sure to go with you to the next estate sale. Obviously, we need to work on your taste.”
TeraLyn deflated like a pricked balloon. Her face fell, and her eyes studied the floor as she valiantly tried not to let tears squeeze out her eyes.
Completely oblivious to the damage she’d just inflicted, Rhonda stuffed the dresses back in the plastic bags and wadded them up, even though London was sure she hadn’t even looked through them all.
“May I see the dresses?” London asked, reaching for the bags. “I love redesigning vintage dresses. If you don’t want them, maybe I can use some of them for my business and also redesign a few of them for Fairy Tale Closet.”
Rhonda offered a condescending smile and patted London’s arm affectionately. “That’s very thoughtful of you, my dear. But you’re a wedding dress designer. I’m afraid the girls don’t want wedding dresses, nor do they want old-fashioned ones. You can have the dresses if you want, but we won’t be needing anything from you. Mr. Snow is very particular that we offer modest dresses through our charity. Even if you created something that wasn’t wedding-ish, I’m sure it would be too risqué for our purposes. You’re such a dear for offering, though.”
London ignored Rhonda and pulled the dresses out of the bag. When she tugged the cream-colored satin out, she smiled in delight. “This is an old wedding dress! Isn’t it exquisite?”
“It’s in pretty bad shape,” Rhonda said. “And it’s certainly not a style that can be updated. Better to trash it and start over.”
“I think I can do something with it,” London said, already redesigning it in her mind. “I’m sure I can do something with the other dresses, too.”
“Take them,” Rhonda said wearily. “They aren’t something Snow White Bridal can use, and if you want to save something from the dumpster, go ahead. It’s just not a project that I would waste my time with, especially with dresses that aren’t salvageable.”
“Thanks,” London said brightly. Just because Rhonda didn’t want the dresses in her closet didn’t mean London couldn’t keep a few things for her own charity. After all, wedding dresses weren’t London’s only specialty. She also got numerous orders for formal dresses for celebrities. For the past few award shows, her designs hit the top of most best-dressed lists. London didn’t know, but she would like to think a high school student would like that kind of thing! She certainly didn’t want to steal Rhonda’s charity, but if one of the girls who came in couldn’t find anything they liked at Rhonda’s Fairy Tale Closet, maybe London could offer a few things in hers. After all, it wasn’t like stealing a customer since there was no money involved.
“And, thank you, too, TeraLyn,” London said warmly. “I love the things you picked out.”
A little spark lit in the dull depths of TeraLyn’s eyes. “I’d love to see what you do with them.”
Rhonda flounced off, completely uninterested.
London said softly. “I know some of them will sell quickly, but I’ll make sure you get a peek at the completed dress before that happens. I’d also like to donate two dresses to the Fairy Tale closet. Maybe you can give me your opinion if you think they’d work. They don’t need to be with your mom’s dresses, but maybe if a girl is having a hard time finding the perfect dress, I may be able to help her out.”
“That’s a great idea,” TeraLyn responded, equally quiet. “That actually happens more often than you’d think. Mom’s taste runs very specific, and some girls like something simpler than the fancy dresses Mom likes to supply. I know Mom means well, but I’ve seen a lot of sad girls either leave empty-handed or with a dress they don’t really like.”
“That’s so very sad! Please let me know if that ever happens again so I can try to help.”
TeraLyn nodded seriously, apparently easily accepting her double agent status.
London took her sack of discarded dresses back to her own table and pulled out the wedding dress to look at the full length of it. After a thorough examination, she pulled out her sketchpad. She’d get this one done first. In fact, this dress might be exactly what one of her new clients was looking for. She’d wanted something classic and vintage. With a redesign on the bodice and a few tucks here and there, London felt confident this dress would be breathtakingly exquisite.
Every day of working beside Rhonda only reinforced that beauty really was in the eyes of the beholder. Where Rhonda saw trash, London saw a treasure.
Fortunately, this treasure should provide an excellent distraction from her mind’s relentless circles around Adam and Mason, at least for the next couple hours. However, she had the awful suspicion that her problems would still remain, even after she’d sewn the last stitch.
With the final stitch of the night, the rest of her life came crowding in. Except instead of feeling anger as she did earlier, she felt an annoying amount of something even worse—guilt.
London hurriedly put everything away, seeing that she was running late for the wedding rehearsal. Hopefully, with both the rehearsal and dinner at her parents’ house, the atmosphere would be casual enough that it wouldn’t matter if she was late. She still felt bad, though. While she wasn’t in the bridal party, she still wanted to be available to help.
Since Rhonda and TeraLyn had already left for the day, London locked the door to the shop and drove the familiar streets to the same house where she’d grown up.
Come on, London, get a grip! she coached herself. She couldn’t show up to a wedding rehearsal looking miserable.
Unfortunately, she felt terrible. She’d just been so shocked to see Mason that she’d lost her head. Now that she’d calmed a little, she felt bad for how she’d treated him. She wasn’t a mean person, but instead, she always tried to be unfailingly kind and give people the benefit of the doubt. Mason apparently brought out the worst in her, and she hadn’t even let him explain why he’d come all the way from L.A. to Crossroads. Seeing him immediately triggered so many overwhelming emotions that she’d wanted to push him away as firmly as possible. At the moment, she wanted him to go away and never come back. Regrettably, her tactics in doing that were cruel, unfair, and not at all like a Christian.
She felt ashamed. While Mason was more of a name-only type Christian, London knew better. She’d known their differences in faith and had determined in the end that the chasm was too much. He wasn’t willing to change and didn’t see the problem. She couldn’t compromise anymore. She wanted more than a name-only faith. She wanted the real kind, just like she wanted real love. And Mason Bryce was capable of neither.
Today’s tragedy had nothing to do with him. It was all her, and she now realized she was no better than him. She’d been a poor example of real Christianity and hadn’t reflected her Savior well at all.
I’m sorry, Lord. I really screwed up, didn’t I? No matter what he did, I shouldn’t have treated Mason that way.
Now she was sure that she’d thoroughly scared him off enough that she never would know why he’d come.
That was the part that bothered her the most. She still felt a tinge of anger, and the guilt was not pleasant, but most of all, she was bothered by that one question.
Why did Mason come to Crossroads?
Sighing, London joined the many vehicles in front of her parents’ house and tried to content herself with pushing her feelings aside and pasting on a smile.
You can’t bring your problems into Dallas and Kate’s happy day. Get over yourself and put on your happy face.
She pulled down the visor mirror and flashed a practice smile.
Here we go.
She let herself in the front door. Even from outside, she could hear the happy voices and laughter from the backyard where the festivities were taking place. She walked through the empty house and pulled open the French doors off the kitchen, stepping out to see the large backyard fully prepped for the wedding. The large open area featured organized rows of chairs with a center aisle leading to a beautiful archway with trees and blooming bushes as a backdrop. Closer to the house, people gathered around the tables, apparently waiting for the rehearsal and the following dinner to begin.
With her happy smile pasted carefully onto her face, London stepped across the patio area to join her family and friends. Then her gaze lit on a man in the center of the group. He was standing and waving his hands dramatically, seeming to give an animated retelling of some gripping story. His audience watched, thoroughly engrossed and laughing uproariously at his antics.
The sight of him launched what felt like a massive rock into the pit of her stomach, and she froze.
Mason!
At the same moment, Mason saw her as well. His story ended abruptly as he stood upright, and his own anxious gaze locked with hers.
“What are you doing here, Mason?” London asked, shock and anger lacing her voice. None of her family had ever even met Mason before, and now he showed up here, apparently thoroughly charming her family after she had distinctly told him to leave.
“I told you she wouldn’t be happy to have me here,” Mason said with a wince. “I’d better take off. It was nice to finally meet all of you.”
“Nonsense!” London’s mom, Lydia, hopped up from her chair. “You stay right where you are, Mason.”
Hurrying over to London, Lydia explained brightly, “Honey, could I speak to you in private a moment?” Then, without waiting for her acceptance, Lydia grabbed London’s arm and gently pulled her back into the kitchen.
Once there, Lydia immediately released London and turned to address her directly. Though her mother was a full head shorter than London, her daughter knew to pay attention. With her pointed gaze serious and her “mom tone” firmly in place, Lydia was still very much her mother and she the child toeing the line of unacceptable behavior.
“I’m sorry if you’re upset,” she said matter-of-factly. “But I invited Mason to stay. He knocked on the front door this afternoon and introduced himself. He said he was in Crossroads briefly and couldn’t resist meeting us before he left. You dated him for over a year, and yet I never got to meet him. I was thrilled! I am the one who insisted he stay even though he told us that you were angry with him and would be very upset.”
“Mom, he’s an actor. Of course, he’s charming. He’ll say whatever you want to hear!”
“London, I am the one who insisted he stay against his reluctance. I thought you would be mature enough to handle it. Just because you two aren’t romantically involved doesn’t mean you can’t be friends. Besides, the man brought me chocolate. My favorite kind.” Lydia reached up and patted her dark hair, checking for any stray hairs.
Of course he did! The charming scoundrel!
“I have no idea how he even knew it was my favorite,” Lydia mused thoughtfully.
I do! Though London wouldn’t ruin her mom’s story, London knew exactly how Mason knew what chocolates to get in order to best manipulate her mother. Mason was a detail person. Not much got by him, and he possessed an amazing memory that could recall every little detail about someone or a certain situation. While they were together, London must have ordered chocolates for her mom for her birthday or Mother’s Day, and Mason must have paid attention.
Lydia was the epitome of a good hostess. If a thief knocked on her door, intending to rob her, she’d probably invite him in and insist on serving him coffee and cookies before he finished his work for the night!
“London, I’ll leave if you want me to,” Mason said, poking his head into the kitchen from outside. “I know you didn’t expect me to be here. I’ve always wanted to meet your family, and but I don’t want to upset you or cause any drama on your brother’s big day.”
London gritted her teeth and shut her eyes briefly. She didn’t want him to stay, but she knew if she sent him away, she’d offend both him and her family. If earlier today was any indication, she’d also end up regretting it.
“No, I want you to stay,” London forced herself to say. “You’re right. You always did want to come to Crossroads and meet my family, and I’m a big enough girl to handle you being here.”
Lydia reached for London’s hand, took it in hers, and patted it in approval.
“Now that we have that settled, we’d better get back outside. I think the pastor is here for Dallas and Kate to do a quick rehearsal. Then we’ll eat! John has been roasting several prime ribs all day!”
London followed them back outside but headed the opposite direction from where Mason stopped to talk to her oldest brother, Israel. Just because she approved him to stay didn’t mean she had to interact with him.
London kept her distance from Mason throughout the rehearsal. When dinner was served, she planted herself at a different table at the opposite end of the yard from Mason. She was the lone occupant of the table until Sydney came and sat beside her.
“Hiding out, huh?” she asked in between bites.
“I’m not required to like him or interact with him,” London said defensively.
“But you’re not interacting with anyone else either,” Sydney observed. “Do you think we don’t see you sitting here at a table by yourself? Do you assume we are immune to the tension and your sour attitude?”
The bite of prime rib in her mouth suddenly tasted like sawdust. “I’m sorry,” she acknowledged miserably. “I’ll try to do better. It isn’t fair to Dallas and Kate for me to bring tension and drama when this all should be about them, not me.”
Sydney tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned forward, spearing London with a serious gaze that matched the intense blue of her own. “London, I’m not asking you to do a better job of acting. I’m telling you to figure out how to forgive that man and move on with your life. Or at least acknowledge that the reason you’re so miserable right now is because you still have very deep feelings for him. It’s been over a year. Talk to him. Figure it out.”
“I don’t even know why he’s here,” London admitted, her gaze drifting over toward where Mason visited with her family.
A corner of Sydney’s mouth quirked up in amusement. “Well, that sounds like a good place to start.”
London watched Mason apprehensively. He didn’t seem to be bothered at all by the awkward situation. He was smiling, interacting, and having a great time with the people that London should be doing the same with. He’d just effectively stolen her family and friends. They’d probably like him better anyway.
Infuriating man.
“I think I’ll just stick with the better job of acting,” she grumbled, slouching in her chair just a bit more.
Sydney raised an eye
brow. “Suit yourself. Since you’re apparently not interested in suiting anyone else.”
Sydney got up and left.
Great. Just one more person upset with me.
Truthfully, she wanted to just get over it. She wanted to be as accomplished an actor as Mason. She wanted to shut off her feelings. She wanted to be the person who rose above the past to handle such a situation with warmth and maturity. In reality, she couldn’t lay claim to any of that.
All she really wanted was to leave. Maybe that would be better. Then she wouldn’t need to pretend or risk upsetting anyone with her own issues.
London cleaned off her area and looked for an escape. She thought about claiming that she wasn’t feeling well, but she knew her mom and everyone else would see right through that. Maybe she wouldn’t need to leave completely. If she just had a few moments to herself, maybe she could get her head on straight and return for dessert.
Hoping that no one was paying attention, London skirted the edge of the yard, finally disappearing down a path that led through some trees at the back of her family’s property. When she was a child, she’d often follow this same path to her thinking spot. Though the faint trail was harder to follow now, London retraced those childhood steps, searching for the same peace she’d found years ago.
She reached the edge of her parents’ property, hopped a fence, and kept going. Five minutes later, she could see up ahead where a large tree stood tall and proud right before the land suddenly gave way to the larger valley below. Crossroads was situated in a beautiful valley with a river that meandered through it. Her parents lived out of town on a plateau locals referred to as “the bench.” Now London stood on the edge of the bench with the valley extending below until it met with the foothills and their accompanying backdrop of mountains on the other side.