by Amanda Tru
“Are you available?” Brooke asked, relief dawning in her voice. “I don’t want you to cancel anything, but I’m so behind! I was even thinking of trying to recruit Dylan to help.”
London had sudden visions of Brooke’s fiancé attempting to arrange flowers with disastrous results. “Oh, goodness! Don’t do that! We both know Dylan can do wonders with business and charm the socks off anyone, but he doesn’t possess a creative bone in his body. I’ll be at the shop as soon as I finish here.”
“Thanks, London. You’re a lifesaver.”
“Hold on,” she said before Brooke could hang up. “My help isn’t completely free. If I do all this work for you, you need to do something for me.”
“Okay,” Brooke said slowly with a great deal of hesitation.
“I need you to make the time to approve the final design for your wedding gown and the bridesmaid dresses. I know you’re horribly busy with wedding season, but so am I. If we’re actually planning to get you married off to Dylan before the end of the summer, I need to get the dresses done.”
“Deal,” Brooke said, the smile in her voice obvious.
London hung up the phone and carried the box to her work table, knowing she needed to make some good progress in the next few hours. She immediately began looking through and sorting the items in the box, her heart alternately smiling and grieving over the mother’s dreams for her little girl. Picking up one of the earlier drawings of a dress, London studied the crude lines that swirled into butterflies that floated up to a full skirt.
London smiled with satisfaction. In her mind, Traci’s dress started to take shape. Eagerly, she examined the later drawings, the image becoming more defined. Finally, she took out her sketchbook and whispered excitedly, “I’ll call it the “Butterfly Dress!”
The soft sound drew London to a stop in the hallway. With the flower arrangement balanced precariously in her hands, she waited, listening.
There it was again.
It sounded like someone crying. Unable to walk away, London followed the sound to a closed door a few feet away. Reaching out, she knocked lightly.
“I’ll be out in a second,” a muffled voice called.
London started to continue down the hall. They’d brought all of the flowers through the church’s side entrance, and Brooke had instructed her to place this flower arrangement where the guests signed in at the church entrance. Guests were already beginning to arrive, and if she didn’t put the flowers in place, Brooke would be upset.
But she couldn’t do it. Someone in that room was distraught, and London couldn’t walk away. Instead, she reached out, turned the handle, and slowly opened it.
In the center of the room, a bride sat on the floor in a bundle of white fluff surrounding a red face and swollen eyes.
Quickly setting the flower arrangement on a side table, London hurried over and knelt in front of her.
“What’s wrong, Danielle?” London asked, immediately recognizing the bride as the same one who’d been in Rhonda’s shop a couple weeks ago.
Danielle hiccupped and tried to dash the tears away from her cheeks. “I’ll be okay. I’m just having a moment.”
“Danielle, you’re not okay. Tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can help. Do you not want to get married?”
Danielle’s eyes flew wide. “No, it’s not that! I love Justin, and I very much want to marry him. If I didn’t, I’d never consent to wear this ridiculous dress!” She reached out, grabbed fistfuls of the abundant skirt and lifted them up as evidence.”
Oh, no! She still hates the dress that her mother and Rhonda insisted on!
“I’m London Hutchins. I’m a dress designer. Stand up and let me look. Maybe it isn’t as bad as you think.”
“I know who you are,” Danielle said tearfully. “I’ve seen your dresses on the red carpet. I love your style, and I wanted to see if you had anything at all in my price range, but my mom wouldn’t hear of it.”
London’s heart wrenched. I should have said something!
Unfortunately, she clearly remembered wanting to offer her help when Danielle came to the shop, but she had feared upsetting Rhonda. Now it was too late.
“Come on,” London urged, keeping her voice confident and optimistic. “Stand up. Let me look at you.”
Still sniffling, Danielle obediently stood and turned around to face a full-length mirror.
London swallowed with difficulty. Unfortunately, there was no way to disguise the fact that Danielle was right. The dress had been hideous two weeks ago, and if possible, it was even more hideous on the actual wedding day.
“You don’t need to say anything,” Danielle said, hanging her head dejectedly. “I know it’s bad. I should have stood up for myself and insisted on a dress I actually like. This whole thing really is my own fault.”
London wished she could just lie and assure Danielle that the dress was actually flattering. But it wasn’t, and she couldn’t be dishonest. Instead, she made a full circle around the dress, thoroughly inspecting everything from the high neck, to the ridiculous puffy long sleeves that ended in gloves, to the heavily appliqued bodice and unnecessarily voluminous skirt.
“I’m sorry, Danielle. When you were in the shop, I thought other dresses would be much more flattering, but I didn’t speak up because you weren’t my client. I didn’t want to offend anyone or step on Rhonda’s toes. I should have spoken up and at least offered to redesign this dress.”
More tears squeezed out of Danielle’s eyes. “That’s really sweet of you, Ms. Hutchins, but it isn’t your fault. The blame rests solely on these puffed-sleeved shoulders of mine.”
“I hate the sleeves, too,” London murmured, thinking. Then suddenly deciding, she spoke quickly. “You’re getting married in thirty minutes. We may have about fifteen minutes before your bridesmaids show up. We don’t have time to do a complete redesign on the dress, but I can do a few things. I have my scissors and a few supplies in the car. With your permission, I’ll cut off the awful sleeves. We’ll ditch the gloves and the veil, and I’ll tie a blue sash at the waist. There isn’t a lot I can do with the skirt without a sewing machine, but without the sleeves and with the sash to detract attention, I think it will work.”
Hope lit in Danielle’s eyes for the first time. “Do it,” she said firmly.
London grabbed the flower arrangement and delivered it to its designated location before sprinting to her car and covertly grabbing her supplies.
Finding Brooke, she quickly whispered, “The bride has a dress emergency.”
Brooke looked alarmed, but immediately understood that London was on the job. She nodded, “Go fix it. I’ll be fine.”
Careful not to be seen, London snuck back into the church and the bride’s dressing room.
With scissors poised in position over the atrocious sleeve, she asked Danielle one more time, “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Very,” she replied without even a trace of uncertainty.
With a deep breath, London made the first cut. The rest went quickly after that. With the sleeves missing, London then took a length of blue, translucent chiffon and tied it around Danielle’s small waist right where the bodice met the skirt.
She then had Danielle sit, and she redid the girl’s hair and makeup. Instead of the dramatic style that piled all of Danielle’s dark hair atop her head in a mass of curls that would make any woman from the ‘80s proud, London opted for a simpler hairstyle, pulling part of the hair up, but leaving the rest down. Finally, she reapplied the makeup that had been smeared and washed away with tears. Again, instead of the heavy makeup, complete with blue eyeshadow and thick tarantula eyes, London took a subtler approach.
“You’re done,” London pronounced, offering her hand to help Danielle back to the mirror.
Danielle gasped at the sight. “I’m beautiful!”
“Yes, you are,” London said proudly. “I know it’s not exactly what you wanted, but it’s the best I can do. And you look lovely.”
Da
nielle threw her arms around London, more tears squeezing out her eyes. “Thank you. I love it so much.”
“Now, no more crying. I spent too much time on that makeup!”
The bridesmaids arrived at that exact instant, not even realizing the dress had been redesigned in the past fifteen minutes. They oohed and ahhed appropriately, causing Danielle’s skin to glow even more with happiness.
The changes made the dress better than London had anticipated. Danielle looked like a fairy tale princess, and in a very good way.
With one last look of satisfaction, London slipped out with no one noticing and went back to find Brooke.
While London was busy, Brooke had finished with the flowers in both the sanctuary and the reception hall and waited for London by the front door. “Are you ready?” she asked.
“Let’s wait just a minute,” London delayed, pulling Brooke over to find a corner in the entryway to the sanctuary.
A few minutes later, Danielle made her entrance, and the two sisters peeked into the sanctuary as she walked down the aisle.
“London, that’s a beautiful dress,” Brooke whispered. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
London’s gaze scanned the guests and the wedding party, taking note of one very upset mother of the bride, one very shocked Rhonda Snow, and one beaming bride.
London read the small card and smiled. Adam was such a sweet guy. She’d had to cancel on him twice in the past week. Even though she’d tried to explain about helping her sister and the fact that this was her busy season, Adam had been understandably upset.
Then, today, Brooke had shown up with a delivery of roses bearing a card that read,
I miss you. Tell me when I can see you again.
Adam.
Though slightly embarrassing to know that her sister took down the personal message and made the delivery, London knew it was unavoidable. Brooke owned the only florist shop in town, which ensured that by the end of the day, London’s entire family would have the updated information on London’s relationship with Adam.
Saturday. London would make a point of keeping Saturday free for Adam.
It wasn’t like she was avoiding him. She’d just been so busy that she hadn’t talked to Mason either. In fact, she suspected Mason was on location out of the country. She hadn’t heard from him in a few days, and she couldn’t help the curiosity and worry from creeping into her thoughts, which was ridiculous. So far, her chats with Mason had just been friendly, and she started to hope that, in the absence of a romantic relationship, they really could be friends. But that didn’t stop her eyes from straying to the magazine racks and her hands from switching on the TV to the evening celebrity gossip show. Somehow any information about Mason, even if it wasn’t true, was preferable to no information.
London sighed, realizing not for the first time that she was messed up.
“No, I’m sorry, I can’t do that.”
Rhonda’s voice across the room caught London’s attention. Instead of Rhonda’s usual sugary-sweet tone, her tone speaking into the phone was quite firm and business-like.
“Yes, a deposit was made, but the order was canceled weeks ago. I can’t reopen a canceled order,” she said firmly.
Then after a pause, she spoke again, her voice devoid of any warmth or emotion. “I’m sorry about that. I’m sure your bride will be just as happy with a different wedding dress. Goodbye.”
Rhonda hung up the phone.
“What was that about?” TeraLyn asked. “Was that a guy calling about a wedding dress?”
“Yes. Ridiculous, isn’t it?” Rhonda huffed indignantly, though she kept her voice hushed. “A woman placed a dress order a few weeks ago and then canceled it. Then this guy calls, claiming to be her groom and asking me to fulfill that original order for his bride. Of course, I won’t. A dress is difficult to sell after it’s been altered. What if I alter the dress and then the woman cancels again? How’s a man to know what a woman wants anyway? After a cancellation like that, I make it a policy to never work with that particular client again. Your father always says I need to use good business sense, and this is one of those cases.”
“It is rather romantic that he wanted to order her wedding dress, don’t you think?” TeraLyn asked.
Rhonda shot a glance London’s direction, and London immediately looked away, pretending absorption in her own work. “No, I don’t. It’s foolish, and I don’t have time to jump through hoops for a client who treated me badly with a cancellation.”
“But didn’t you still get the nonrefundable deposit?” TeraLyn asked uncertainly.
Rhonda sent another nervous look London’s way, checking once again the status of London’s eavesdropping. “Yes, but that’s beside the point,” Rhonda hissed. “It was still inappropriate to cancel, and I won’t tolerate it!”
At the tinkle of the bell above the door, Rhonda’s tone and entire demeanor suddenly changed. “Oh, there you are, my dear! Come in! I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time. You’re such a special young lady, and now you have a special young man! I just told Mr. Snow last month that I couldn’t wait until Kelli Atkinson got married. I just knew you’d be a beautiful bride. Just you wait, we’ll find you the perfect gown!”
With that, Rhonda was off on her usual exuberant spiel, and London tried to tune her out. Apparently with the same goal, TeraLyn hid in the back working on dress alterations. London fought the urge to go talk to her, knowing she needed to finish the redesign on the heirloom family dress from Texas she’d received last week. She’d also been working on the “Butterfly Dress.” With a design finalized, she was ready to start the construction as soon as she finished the “Texas Belle” gown, as she’d come to label it.
Unfortunately, things hadn’t been the same for London since Danielle’s wedding last weekend, and focusing on her own work was still extremely difficult. After seeing first-hand the results of Rhonda’s methods, everything the older woman did seemed to grate on London’s nerves.
Most aggravating to London was that Rhonda put on a good show. Everyone in town thought she was the nicest person ever, but in London’s estimation, nice people weren’t over-bearing to the point of disregarding others’ feelings and wishes. And nice people tried to help when a groom called seeking a wedding dress for his bride.
“Oh, I love it!” came the call from across the room. “This is the one!” The petite bride twirled in front of the triple mirror like a little girl practicing for her role as princess.
“Oh, sweetheart,” came the mother’s immediate response. “That’s not a wedding gown. It doesn’t even hit the floor, let alone have a train. You need something classic, not trendy.”
“Let’s try on a few more,” Rhonda encouraged. “That tea-length dress isn’t one of my favorites. It’s not something I would have personally ordered for the shop. It came through with other dresses from a brand I carry. Most people don’t like the tea length and simple style. It doesn’t really say ‘bride’ like some of these others for you to try.”
“But I like it,” Kelli insisted.
London snuck a peek up at the dress, immediately deciding that she agreed with Kelli. With Kelli’s petite frame, the simple dress suited her perfectly.
“I’m not saying ‘no,’” the mother said. “I’m just saying you need to try on a few more dresses.”
Rhonda put a comforting arm around Kelli and encouraged, “Kelli, dear, I do have a rule that a bride who visits my shop is required to try on more than one dress. “
“Fine,” Kelli acquiesced.
The next thirty minutes passed with Kelli trying on multiple dresses from Rhonda’s definition of “classic” to London’s definition of “gaudy,” which were really actually quite close on the design spectrum. No other dress chased away the misery on Kelli’s face, let alone filled it with the beaming joy of the first one.
“Oh, I like this one!” Kelli’s mother said, gushing over the fancy piece Kelli stepped out in. “This is it. Don’t you fe
el beautiful?”
“No, not at all,” Kelli replied, looking at herself in the mirror. “I like the first dress. That’s the one I want.”
Rhonda smiled condescendingly and put a hand on the bride’s arm comfortingly. “Kelli, dear, this one is a classic design that will stand the test of time. Many brides choose trendy dresses. Ten years pass, and they feel ridiculous when looking at the pictures.”
London stifled a groan. In her honest opinion, Rhonda’s classic dress qualified in the trendy category from about twenty to thirty years ago. A thick, white collar rounded her neck and attached to a sheer material that extended to where the rest of the dress met in a heavily-adorned sweetheart neckline. The applique and beading on the bodice probably made the dress weigh more than the bride. The skirt extended out into a bell shape that was periodically adorned with more beading and matching pieces of applique. It was definitely “classic” in that it was the typical, extravagant style Rhonda loved.
“It’s my wedding. Shouldn’t I get to choose what dress I wear?” Kelli asked, anger seeping into her voice.
Good for you, Kelli! London silently cheered. Stand your ground!
“Of course, dear!” her mother said. “Wasn’t there a pair of shoes you loved? We’ll definitely get those. I’m paying for the dress, however, so I think we should go with the wise counsel of Mrs. Snow.”
“Mom, the dresses are the same price! And I hate this one!”
“It will look so much better when it’s altered to fit you,” Rhonda assured. “It’s too big at the moment, but we’ll take it in here and here, and it will be perfect. You’ll be stunning!”
London winced. Kelli would definitely be stunning, but not in a good way. The dress completely overpowered her. No one would be able to see the bride for the gleaming sail of a dress.
“Yes, I’m sure the alterations will make all the difference,” the mother agreed. “You just can’t see how much you’ll love it when you don’t have the full picture. Rhonda, will you be able to make the alterations and have it shipped to arrive in two weeks? I know it’s short notice.”