The Wedding Dress Yes (Crossroads Collection)

by Amanda Tru

  Frustration welled up inside her. “I told you last night, Mason, and I don’t know how to make it more clear. I am not interested in going ‘back.’ My past with you involved quite a bit of pain, and I’m not willing to revisit that, no matter how much you’ve changed.”

  Mason shut his eyes briefly. “I’m sorry, London. I misspoke. I’m not interested in going back either. I want a relationship that is new and healthy and forever. And I want that with you.”

  Forever? He wants forever?

  This was new. A major part of the reason they’d broken up was because Mason couldn’t seem to commit to anything beyond today. He liked her, but they’d dated for a year and didn’t seem to have a plan for where they were headed. If ever she mentioned the future, he’d get mad at her. London wanted a husband and family, and Mason didn’t seem like a forever kind of guy.

  “You’re just saying that,” London whispered, her lips trembling. “You’re playing a role and telling me what I want to hear.”

  “No, I’m telling you what’s on my heart—what I should have told you before but was too much of an idiot to get out of my own way.”

  London shook her head and took a step back. “I don’t believe you,” she whispered. “You didn’t care enough for me then, and you don’t now.”

  Mason took a step toward her, his blue eyes flashing intensely. “London, it’s been over a year since I saw you. All of those magazine covers were lies. There hasn’t been anyone else. I’ve waited, thinking that my feelings would fade eventually, and I would get over you and move on. But this isn’t infatuation. I’m madly and deeply in love with you, and no other woman will do. My problem before was not that I didn’t love you, but that I didn’t know how to love you. I’d never felt so deeply about someone, and yet I couldn’t translate those feelings into anything more than the superficial. I don’t want what we had before. I want so much more. When I say those words, what I’m really saying is that for now and always you will be the only one for me. That’s why I can’t take no for an answer. Because, to the depth of my being, I am in love with you.”

  Mason reached his hand to her cheek. But his touch didn’t bring painful memories. Almost involuntarily, her eyes slid shut, and she leaned into his hand, feeling a deep longing and a small flame of something unfamiliar—hope.

  Her eyes flickered open, and she felt his arms come around her, pulling her close.

  “Mason, I…” she paused, so very tempted to feel the touch of his lips. “I’m kind of already seeing Adam.”

  Mason blinked, ending the spell, but not releasing her. “I know,” he said simply. “But you don’t love him. At least not yet. If he’s half as determined as I am, he won’t mind a little competition. I’m planning to give him a good run for his money.”

  London extracted herself from his arms. “I don’t like being the prize in a stupid contest while two grown men duke it out.”

  “I don’t plan on ‘duking it out.’ I plan on focusing my efforts entirely on you. Prepare to be wooed.” He pumped his eyebrows up and down dramatically.

  “There you are, London!” Adam said, hurrying toward her. “Is this guy bothering you again? If so, I can talk to your brother, Camden, and we can escort him out.”

  London laughed. “You can talk to Camden, but I’m pretty sure he’d just refer you to Sydney. She’s the designated bouncer.”

  Confusion clouded Adam’s face, and he turned back to look at the pretty woman in the blue dress.

  “No bouncing necessary,” Mason assured. “I was just informing London that I intend to make her fall in love with me.”

  “Oh, really?” Adam said, folding his arms across his front. “Funny how we seem to have the same goal.”

  “Yes, isn’t it?” Mason said easily. “I tried to tell her that if a man truly cared about her, he wouldn’t mind a little competition.”

  “Of course not!” Adam said. “I’m confident enough that I don’t mind you making a fool out of yourself. As long as when London decides, the losing guy—which will be you—will let her go.”

  “Umm… don’t I get a say in any of this?” London asked, hoping they remembered that she was still there.

  “Absolutely,” Mason said.

  “You get to decide which one of us you are in love with,” Adam said, as if this part should be obvious. Reaching out his hand, he curled his fingers around hers and gave a little squeeze as if to assure her they were in this together.

  “Agreed,” Mason nodded. “Until then, why don’t we all pray about God’s leading and that He will make it clear to London which one of us is right for her.”

  “Sounds good,” Adam said. “Unfortunately for you, I don’t think this will take very long.”

  Mason extended his hand to Adam, “Alright then. May the best man win.”

  Adam accepted the handshake, and just like that, London’s fate was sealed to be ardently pursued by two men.

  “Mom, please think about this!” TeraLyn said, her tone strained.

  “I don’t need to think about it. This was decided forty years ago, and there is nothing I can do about it.”

  London tried to keep her attention on the dress in front of her, but it was impossible to ignore the dramatic, hushed voices holding an intense argument in front of a computer across the room. This was by far the most interesting thing that had happened in the week since Dallas and Kate’s wedding. Not even the few phone calls she’d had with Mason or the two dates she’d gone on with Adam compared to the drama of the scene unfolding between the mother and daughter on the other side of the shop.

  “Don’t you think forty-or-so years is long enough?” TeraLyn asked, obviously upset.

  “Sandy made her choices,” Rhonda said, walking away a few paces to return some dresses to a rack. “She’s the one who cut herself off from the family. Now she dares to ask me for help on the wedding dress that she stole? It should have been mine, not hers.”

  “So now you’re just planning to keep the dress?” TeraLyn asked, aghast.

  “Why not?” While TeraLyn seemed very upset, Rhonda simply shrugged, not seeming disturbed at all. “Like I said, it should have been mine. If I send it back, Sandy will just find someone else to cut it up. It’s a family heirloom. It’s my responsibility to protect it. Who knows, maybe you can wear it when you get married, TeraLyn?”

  TeraLyn looked appalled. “Mom, I’d never want to do that. It’s not my wedding dress, and it’s not yours. They sent it to you because you said you’d help.”

  “Nonsense,” Rhonda walked over to a box and lifted up an old gown to her front as if checking the fit. “It is mine. If you don’t want it, maybe I can wear it, and your father and I can renew our wedding vows. Your father would like that, and he definitely wouldn’t stand for my family dress to be cut up for any reason.”

  London barely managed to capture her laughter before it escaped. Rhonda was not a slight woman. Even from this distance, London could see that the dress would fit a woman half her size.

  “Mom, not to be mean, but do you really think that the dress will fit you when it doesn’t fit your sister?” TeraLyn asked, managing to voice the same thought in a much kinder way.

  “Sandy was always bigger-boned than I am,” Rhonda said, brushing off her concerns while carefully folding the gown back into the box. “It’s not my fault she got too fat to wear the dress.”

  TeraLyn sighed. “Well, I see there’s no hope of talking you into doing the right thing. I sincerely hope that it will make you very happy to keep that old dress in a box somewhere so your sister can’t repurpose it for a dying baby.”

  “Why, thank you, TeraLyn!” Rhonda said, oblivious to the underlying sarcasm in her daughter’s words. “Yes, it definitely is a happy day to get this dress back into the family where it belongs.”

  She walked back over to the computer and pressed a button. “There, it’s done! I just sent a reply I wrote earlier, saying that I will not mutilate our family wedding dress for any reason a
nd thanking her for returning it to me.”

  The bell over the door jingled, and Rhonda hurried over to enthusiastically greet her client.

  With red-rimmed eyes, TeraLyn shuffled off to a corner and began busying herself unpacking some boxes.

  The whole scene bothered London. TeraLyn was usually so subservient to her mother. This was the first time she’d witnessed a disagreement where TeraLyn voiced an opinion different than her mother’s. Typically, even if she disagreed, the young woman simply pursed her lips and kept silent. The fact that she’d said something made London curious to know the full story. Likewise, Rhonda’s reaction made her even more curious. The older woman normally wrapped every word she said in an overly sweet coating. This was the first time that her words were openly harsh.

  What could have caused such a strong reaction in both women? Unfortunately, London didn’t know how to safely broach the subject with either one of them.

  Finishing one last stitch, London held up the dress with satisfaction, analyzing every detail carefully. With wedding season upon them, she was overloaded with orders and technically didn’t have time for this project, but she’d done it anyway.

  She’d taken the old, castoff wedding dress TeraLyn had purchased at the estate sale and redesigned it into an exquisite blend of vintage and modern. Now she carried it over to the front display window on her side of the shop. Taking down the mannequin, she began dressing it in the new gown. At the very least, this dress would make an excellent display piece to advertise London’s talent in redesigning vintage dresses. Tomorrow, she’d take a few pictures and upload them to her website as well. The dress also might be a good candidate to send to one of the upcoming fashion shows she’d agreed to provide dresses for.

  “London, is that the dress from the yard sale?” TeraLyn asked, approaching with her arms carrying a large box. “That can’t be the one Mom wanted to throw away.”

  “Yes, it is!” London said proudly.

  “It’s beautiful!” TeraLyn oohed, setting the box down and reaching out to finger the material. “How did you do that?”

  London shrugged. “I saw the potential and used a little imagination. I think it turned out even better than I imagined, though.”

  “Here, let me help you,” TeraLyn said, reaching out to steady the mannequin while London tried to dress it. “Dressing a mannequin usually is a two-person job.”

  The two ladies finally succeeded in getting the figure clothed and positioned in the display window. London made sure the dress fell to the floor at just the right angle and asked TeraLyn’s opinion.

  “It’s perfect,” she pronounced with a sigh of pleasure. “That’s the kind of dress I want if I ever get married. And to think, something that looks so elegant and romantic was wadded up in a grab bag from an estate sale.”

  “Yes, but think about the journey this dress must have gone through before that. Part of the reason I love working with vintage dresses is because I get to imagine the stories they hold of the brides that wore them long ago. Helping a bride wear a piece of history on a day that marks the beginning of her future is a very special assignment for me.”

  “What a very romantic way to put it!” With a whimsical smile, TeraLyn reached out and fingered the sleeve of the gown as if hoping a little of that romance might rub off on her.

  “Speaking of history,” London braved, lowering her voice and nervously making sure Rhonda remained occupied with her client. “I couldn’t help but overhear you disagree with Rhonda earlier. Is there something I can help with?”

  TeraLyn smiled sadly. “We weren’t exactly subtle with our conversation. It’s sweet of you to offer, but it’s nothing anyone can help with. If forty years haven’t changed it yet, then nothing can.”

  “Well, if the problem has something to do with a vintage wedding dress, I might be able to work some magic.” She gestured to the mannequin. “It’s kind of my specialty.”

  TeraLyn hesitated, also nervously checking her mother’s position before speaking. “A family wedding dress has been passed down through Mom’s family for generations. Mom’s sister, Sandy, took the dress and married a man her family didn’t approve of. Mom would never admit her family’s prejudice, but I’ve put two and two together. They didn’t like that Sandy married a black man, and it destroyed Sandy’s relationship with her whole family. I honestly don’t think Mom has that kind of prejudice, at least not today, but she followed her family in cutting Sandy off and never forgiving her.”

  “That’s really sad,” London murmured.

  “It is,” TeraLyn agreed. “I have only met Sandy and her husband, Carl, a handful of times in my entire life. They have a large family that includes adopted and foster children. They sound like wonderful people, and I’ve always wanted to meet my cousins and get to know that whole side of the family better. But that’s never been possible. Sandy has called a few times over the years, trying to reach out to Mom on birthdays and holidays. While Mom is usually polite, the rift in the family remains.”

  “Isn’t there anything that can be done?” London asked, feeling TeraLyn’s pain.

  “A couple weeks ago, Sandy’s son, Woong, contacted Mom and asked if she could alter the family wedding dress. It’s Sandy and Carl’s anniversary, and they thought it would be nice to wear the dress. After it arrived, Carl contacted Sandy and asked if, instead, she could cut it up and turn it into a beautiful burial gown that the family could give to a baby who isn’t expected to live.”

  “I’ve heard of people doing that with old wedding gowns,” London said. “I think it’s a beautiful idea.”

  “Yes, but Mom won’t hear of it. She’s decided to keep the dress, even though it isn’t hers. I’m sure Sandy will be very hurt when she finds out, and it will just make the family situation worse. I wish there were something I could do,” TeraLyn said sadly.

  “We can pray,” London said simply. “I don’t think it’s God’s will for families to be so divided and unforgiveness to win. I’ll pray for reconciliation, even if it takes a miracle.”

  “Thank you,” TeraLyn nodded. “After so many years, I think that’s what we’d need.” TeraLyn turned to leave and tripped over the box she’d set on the floor. “Oh, this is the reason I came over here in the first place. Is this box yours?”

  London took the box and opened the loose lid. Handwritten letters and pictures, some of which looked almost like art created by a child, crammed the box. It looked like a box of mementos whose value was really only in the eyes of the owner.

  “Yes, it’s mine!” London said excitedly. Opening the box, she snatched up a letter and quickly read it. When she finished, London gently put the letter down to wipe at the moisture collecting in the corners of her eyes.

  “I’m sorry I opened it,” TeraLyn apologized remorsefully, assuming London’s tears were her fault. “It was with all of the other shipments this morning, and it didn’t occur to me to look at the name on the box. I’m not yet used to two shops located at the same address. When I didn’t recognize it, I found your name on the lid. Are you making a scrapbook?”

  “No, not at all,” London picked out a few hand-drawn pictures and studied them while distractedly answering TeraLyn. “This is one of my new projects. I was contacted by another bridal shop—Dorothy Branch Bridal—asking if I could do this custom order for a bride named Traci. Dorothy told me enough of the details that I knew I couldn’t say no, but I didn’t know the full request until Traci’s letter arrived in the box. The letter explains that Traci wants a custom wedding gown, but it’s a very specific one, which is why Ms. Branch contacted me. This box contains a collection of mementos telling the story of the wedding Traci’s mom has been planning for her for years. Some of the items in here date back to when Traci was a little girl. Even then, her mother was sketching a dress for her daughter’s big day. Unfortunately, Traci’s mom is terminally ill and not expected to live past about six months. Before she dies, Traci wants to have the wedding her mother has always pl
anned.”

  “Wow! What a project! So, you have to look at the mother’s drawings and descriptions and create a dress to match?”

  “Yes, but I think it’ll be a little more difficult than that. Look at these pictures. Not all of them are even close to the same. As her little girl grew up, so did the mother’s plans for the wedding dress and the rest of the ceremony. The design changed with the mother’s tastes and dreams. I have to search through these and create a wedding gown that can capture the spirit of what the mother wanted for her daughter.”

  TeraLyn picked up a scrap of paper that looked like it had been colored with crayons. “I can see that will be just a little challenging.”

  “Yes, but I love a challenge, especially one that contains a great story and a good cause.”

  “Well, after seeing what you did with a yard sale dress, I can’t wait to see what you can do with a box of scraps!” TeraLyn carefully replaced the paper in the box and looked back at London encouragingly.

  “I just hope I can do something that meets with Traci’s approval. With something as important as her mother’s memory, there’s quite a bit of pressure to get it right.”

  “Well, I’m sure—”

  London’s cell phone rang from where it sat by her work and desk area. With a smile and a wave to TeraLyn, she hurried to answer it.

  Seeing the contact flash on the screen, she answered it, “Hi, Brooke.”

  “Hi, London. Are you busy tomorrow?” Brooke’s voice sounded strained and stressed.

  “No, I’m not,” London said without hesitation. If Brooke needed help, London would cancel whatever she needed to be there. “What do you need?”

  “I have a wedding tomorrow, and Tylee is sick with the stomach flu. Do you think you can come help deliver and set up the flowers?”

  Tylee was Brooke’s assistant at the floral shop. Without her, it would be nearly impossible for Brooke to pull off the flowers for an entire wedding herself. “Sure, I can do that. Do you also need help tonight?”