The Wedding Dress Yes (Crossroads Collection)

by Amanda Tru

  TeraLyn nodded. “I don’t agree with a lot of my mom’s tactics, and I don’t want to be like her ‘when I grow up.’ It’s probably past time I started standing up to her. Thank you for reminding me that it’s important to stand up to bullies, even if the bully is your mother.”

  “I think there is a way you can make your voice heard while still being respectful,” London said. “If you want to try to talk to Rhonda and give her another chance to do the work herself, then I’m fine with that.”

  “No, I want you to make the infant gown, but I’d like to help. Then we’ll mail it off without saying a word to her. If she finds out our plans beforehand, she will hide the dress and stop us from doing it. There’s no convincing her. I will talk to her sometime later and confess.”

  “You’re saying that, in this case, it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission.”

  “That’s exactly right,” TeraLyn nodded firmly.

  “Why don’t you come to my apartment tonight, and we’ll get it done. We can ship it off tomorrow morning.”

  The two finished their sandwiches with a little small talk and headed back to the store. They didn’t bother making a secret entrance. Even if they arrived back from lunch at the same time, Rhonda wouldn’t necessarily realize they’d been talking.

  As they approached, London thought once again about what a cute building it was for a bridal shop. In fact, if Rhonda wasn’t so difficult, the arrangement would be just about perfect.

  The old brick building perched on Main Street full of old-fashioned charm. Two large display windows wore hats of classic awnings, and in between them stood the front door. The sign above the door read “Snow White Bridal.” Over the awning on London’s side of the shop, a much smaller placard announced a simple “London Hutchins Designs.”

  London loved those display windows. Of course, she felt her display superior to Rhonda’s. Rhonda’s display window crammed lots of frills, lace, and even sequins around several mannequins donned with equally ostentatious dresses.

  London’s display, on the other hand, featured only one dress with an old-fashioned display to match. Below the mannequin, London had spread an old journal, some vintage shoes, a paper fan, and some pictures of dress designs from the late 1800s.

  She liked the whole picture, especially the centerpiece. Even she couldn’t have imagined TeraLyn’s yard sale find would turn out so—

  “Where’s the dress?” London gasped, rushing forward and gazing frantically through the glass as if expecting the dress to be shoved in the corner of the window.

  “What?” TeraLyn asked, hurrying to her side.

  “Where’s the dress I redesigned for the window display? Remember? You bought it at a yard sale, I redesigned it, and then you helped me put it in the display window right there. But it’s gone!”

  In the place of the redesigned antique dress, the mannequin had been hastily redressed in a frilly number London didn’t even recognize. The dress didn’t even hang straight, and one of the sleeves fell halfway off the mannequin’s arm.

  “That’s one of Mom’s gowns,” TeraLyn murmured.

  London spun on her heel and marched into the shop. Why would Rhonda touch anything in London’s display window? More importantly, where was the dress?

  Rhonda was with a customer when London marched up to her. “Rhonda, I need to speak with you, please.”

  “Certainly, my dear. Just let me finish with this client, and I’ll be right with you.”

  “No, I need to speak with you now,” London said firmly. “TeraLyn can help. Hopefully, it will just take a minute.”

  Right on cue, TeraLyn stepped up with a smile and introduced herself to the ladies clustered around a rack of dresses.

  Rhonda pursed her lips, but knowing she couldn’t cause a scene, she stepped away from the group.

  “Where is my dress that was in my window display?” she asked immediately.

  Rhonda’s eyes brightened. “Oh, I haven’t had a chance to tell you! I sold it for you!”

  “You what?” London asked, disbelieving.

  “I sold it! A tourist saw it in the window soon after you put it on display. She wanted it. I named a fair price, and she bought it on the spot!”

  “That wasn’t your dress to sell! I didn’t even have a price tag on it.”

  “I beg your pardon,” Rhonda said, putting a hand to her neck in shock. “It was my dress. TeraLyn purchased it. Now, to be fair, I was already planning to split the profits with you. That seemed only fair since you sewed a bit of lace onto it and put it through the wash.”

  “Rhonda, you were throwing it away! You didn’t want it and said I could have it.”

  Rhonda looked confused. “That’s not the way I remember it, my dear. I thought it was a cooperative effort.” Her face melted into a hurt expression. “I’m sorry, London. I thought I was doing you a favor and helping you sell that dress. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  London breathed deeply. Rhonda said the right words. On paper, London should be understanding of the mistake and let things go. In reality, it all seemed like a show. Underneath all of those sweet words, London suspected that Rhonda knew exactly what she’d done. She knew that dress was London’s but couldn’t pass off a quick sale. Now she was attempting to redefine her theft as a favor.

  “I didn’t even have a price tag on that dress,” London tried to explain again. “I didn’t intend to sell it. I wanted it for the display, and I intended to use it for an upcoming fashion show of my work. For future reference, please don’t ever touch one of my dresses, even if you think you’re doing me a favor.”

  “Well, if you were smart, you would make another few just like that one and let me sell them for you. I could have sold that one multiple times over. In fact, the one girl who called was quite upset that it sold. I don’t know if you promised it to her or what. She said it was for her aunt.”

  “Her aunt?” Electricity shot through London’s veins. “What was her name?”

  “I don’t know. The girl was upset enough that she showed up here at the shop a few days later with a guy. They wanted the information on the woman who bought the dress, which I didn’t give them, of course.”

  Rhonda’s cheeks turned slightly pink at the tale, and London got the distinct impression that the older woman wasn’t telling the whole story.

  “Did they say where they were from?” London asked, feeling sick to her stomach. This happened last week? She hadn’t even noticed the hideous other dress in her display window, and Rhonda hadn’t mentioned it for a week?

  “Texas,” Rhonda said, walking away to rejoin TeraLyn and the clients. “They were from Texas.”

  “Texas!” The Texas Belle! “Oh, no! Rhonda, you must tell me exactly what the woman said when she first called you!”

  Rhonda shrugged. “She said some nonsense about sending a dress for alterations and checking to see if it was done. I asked her to describe the dress, and she described the redesigned vintage dress in the window. I figured you had intended to do the alterations for her, but it was already too late. I’d already sold the dress.”

  “Oh, no! Rhonda, that wasn’t the dress she was talking about! I just finished the other dress for Willow from Rios, Azules, Texas and mailed it yesterday. I give all of my clients my cell phone number, but Willow’s niece must have simply looked up the bridal shop in Crossroads and called here directly instead.”

  “Well, I don’t see how any of this is my fault or even a problem,” Rhonda said stiffly. “So, the woman and her niece find out her dress wasn’t actually sold. That’s good news, right?”

  London closed her eyes and moaned. “Excuse me, Rhonda. I need to go say a prayer that you haven’t completely ruined my business reputation. And then I need to make a phone call.”

  “Is everything okay?” TeraLyn whispered, approaching London’s work table cautiously.

  “I think so,” London said wearily. “My client from Texas was so relieved, she didn’t seem to hav
e room to feel angry, at least not yet. She didn’t talk long. She acted rushed that she needed to make another call.”

  “I’m really sorry that happened. I didn’t know Mom had sold your dress and then gave one of your clients the wrong information.”

  “It’s not your fault, TeraLyn. It must have happened last week when I was in and out of the shop running to the post office and around town on other errands. Things have been so busy.”

  “There you are, TeraLyn,” Rhonda said, hurrying up to the table slightly out of breath. “I’m late to the Friends of the Library meeting. You know how your father hates when people are late. Can you run this package to the post office? It needs to go out today. I already told Kelli and Judy Atkinson that it was on its way. They’ve already left to prepare for the wedding on the coast.”

  TeraLyn nodded. “I can do that.”

  “They close at 5:00, so you need to leave right away,” Rhonda called over her shoulder.

  Before TeraLyn could offer reassurances, Rhonda hurried through the door.

  “I’ll take that, TeraLyn,” London said, reaching for the box. “I need to run by the post office for my daily trek anyway.

  “Are you sure? On second thought, I’d better do it. Mom would want me to get the receipt.”

  “I’ll get the receipt, and you can just pay me back from the cash register.”

  “I’m not sure. I can go with you. I don’t mind doing it myself.”

  “TeraLyn, I want to do this,” London said firmly. Deliberately, London reached under her table and pulled out a box around the same size as the one in her hand. She traded them, replacing the one beneath the table with the one Rhonda had just entrusted to TeraLyn.

  TeraLyn’s eyes lit up with understanding. “You mean…?”

  “I’ve heard tea-length wedding dresses are very popular this season,” London said cryptically.

  TeraLyn gave a swift nod of understanding and bravely ventured. “I can do it, London. I don’t mind.”

  “But I mind,” London said softly. “Deniability is a great commodity. This one has nothing to do with you. Let me do this on my own, TeraLyn.”

  Tears filled the corners of TeraLyn’s eyes, and she smiled with admiration. “Go. Kelli needs the right dress for her big day.”

  “Do you feel like a walk?” Adam asked, reaching for London’s hand.

  “Sure. I can always use some exercise after a meal at La Bonita Sombrero,” she answered, entwining her hand with his.

  “You still owe me a dinner date in Brighton Falls,” Adam said. “This one doesn’t count, either.”

  London smiled. “The day is still young. Who says we can’t head to the city this evening?”

  Adam grinned and squeezed her hand. “I like the sound of that!”

  She’d managed to rope off the entire day to spend with Adam. After talking over the phone several times this week, London was more certain than ever that he must be the one for her. Besides the fact that she hadn’t heard a word from Mason, she’d realized just how much Adam meant to her.

  Even now, walking down the streets of Crossroads, she couldn’t help but think how many of her memories included Adam. He’d been part of her childhood and held the title of her first boyfriend. He’d been her first kiss. He’d taken her to prom. They’d tossed their graduation caps in the air together and spun marvelous dreams of what their future may hold.

  Adam’s life was entwined with hers, and there seemed something right about returning home in every sense. She wanted to go back to that optimistic time where all her dreams lay before her and a handsome, hometown boy stood at her side.

  Adam laughed, and London suddenly looked around her, realizing they stood in front of the elementary school where she’d attended first through fifth grades.

  “I don’t think I’ve been here since I was eleven years old!” Adam grinned.

  “You’ve lived here all this time and never set foot in this school?” London said, sauntering over to the swings.

  “I’ve been a little busy!” Adam defended.

  London set the swings to their back-and-forth rhythm, but she didn’t stop to sit. Instead, she continued, wandering over the school grounds to the far side.

  Since it was Saturday, the school and playground stood completely empty, allowing London’s memories to flow over her in waves.

  “Remember that winter when we got a ton of snow and made a snow fort right over there?” Adam asked, pointing past the basketball court.

  “I remember,” London smiled. “The newspaper even came out and took a picture.”

  “It’s kind of funny how everything still looks the same as it did back then,” Adam mused.

  “Well, it looks a little smaller,” London pointed out.

  Adam laughed. “You’re right. I remember running in from the playground when the bell rang and feeling completely out of breath because it was so far. Now I look at it and believe I must have been a wimp!”

  “You weren’t a wimp, but your legs were considerably shorter back then,” London pointed out. “I clearly remember the freckled boy who was several inches shorter than me.”

  “I’m surprised you remember me in elementary school at all. You certainly didn’t give me the time of day until we were in high school.”

  “I was too self-conscious and shy,” London confessed. “I didn’t give anyone the time of day. I already had friends in my sisters, so I didn’t really socialize much outside my family, and many of the other kids my age seemed to make such foolish decisions that I didn’t want to associate with them.”

  “That’s why I liked you, London,” Adam turned an admiring gaze her direction. “You’re different than everyone else. A straight arrow. You never went to wild parties or got involved with things you shouldn’t. I could always count on you doing the right thing. Still can. I think you’re just about as perfect as a woman can be.”

  Warning bells rang in London’s head. “I’m not perfect at all, Adam. I don’t always do the right thing or make the right decisions. Please don’t put me on that pedestal.”

  Adam pulled her to a stop, capturing her other hand in his as well, so she faced him squarely. Then, with warm, brown eyes gleaming with sincerity, he spoke. “London, you’re still the same girl I fell in love with in high school. My first love. I know you make mistakes. Everyone does. But I think you don’t give yourself enough credit. And I still think you’re perfect. Perfect for me.”

  Before she could prepare herself, Adam drew her closer and touched his lips gently to hers. Her heart leaped, but London didn’t know whether to attribute it more to the shock or actual emotion. The sensation swept her back, and suddenly she became a teenager again, her heart pitter-pattering at the idea of someone liking her enough to kiss her.

  Adam’s arms came around her, and she allowed him to pull her close, but the kiss never deepened. London kept trying to grasp onto a wisp of passion, but it all felt rather superficial. Strangely, now that she thought of it, it felt exactly the same as when she was eighteen. Fun and exciting, but missing something of substance.

  Startled at the realization, she pulled back.

  Adam smiled. “Funny how that was exactly how I remembered it! Fireworks every time!”

  London felt confused. Didn’t he feel it? Shouldn’t kissing her feel better than he remembered?

  He bent to place one more quick kiss to her lips, and she remained too disoriented to do anything. Maybe she was the shallow one. Maybe this was what real love felt like. She liked Adam, she definitely did, and kissing him certainly was exciting. Maybe she was wrong or sinful to want to feel more. A relationship couldn’t be founded on feelings.

  London smiled, trying to shrug off her trepidation. She reached for his hand and continued to walk through the gravel playground, willing herself to be satisfied with the warm pressure of his hand in hers.

  Adam’s phone rang, and he let go of London’s hand to reach for it. After answering, it became immediately apparent that it
was a work-related call that might last longer than twenty seconds. London wandered over to one of the three large oak trees lining the edge of the playground where it met the chain-link fence.

  “Hello, old friend,” she murmured, reaching out her hand to touch the bark.

  She leaned her back against the strong, sturdy trunk, her frame feeling dwarfed by its large circumference. Then she slid to the ground, shutting her eyes and resting against it while Adam’s serious tones rattled off legalese.

  She smiled softly, remembering the many days she spent out here with her friends and sisters. Her hand rolled over the smooth roots extending into the dirt beside her. She sat up and slowly began sweeping the fine dirt away from the roots of the trees with the edge of her hand. As with riding a bicycle, her hand quickly remembered the motion, and her brush strokes quickened. Soon, a small little wall of dust formed around the hard, clean space in the middle.

  She worked silently, engrossed in the joy and peace of entering her childhood once again.

  “London, what on earth are you doing?” Adam asked, startling her from her reverie.

  “Making a house,” London said simply, blinking up at him.

  “A house?” Adam asked, looking quite unsure of her sanity.

  “Yes,” London confirmed. “When I was a child, my friends and I would come out here and make houses out of the dirt. You probably never noticed because you were a boy. Look, here is the large living room around the base of the tree. Then you follow this hallway, and there are two rooms right here. Then, if you follow that hallway—”

  “The mounds of dirt are the walls of your house?” Adam asked, his skepticism and disgust apparent.

  “Yes,” London said proudly. “I think I’ll put the kitchen on the other side over there.”

  “But, London, you’re filthy. I thought we were going to Brighton Falls.”

  London looked down at her hands as if they belonged to someone else. The sides of each were brown with dust. Her jeans carried a fine layer of it as well. Feeling wisps of hair escaping her ponytail to tickle her cheek, she brushed them aside with her hand, only afterward realizing that she now likely possessed an attractive line of brown smeared across her face.