The Hope Dress

by Roz Denny Fox

  “Too late? Granted, I’m older than you, but I’m only twenty-six. I recently saw a woman on TV who had twins at fifty.”

  “Believe me, sis, you don’t want to wait that long. You want to have your children while making babies is fun. Sylvie Shea, you’re a coward.”

  “Dory, I’m shutting my bedroom door so I can get dressed in peace. I do not, I repeat, do not need lectures from my kid sister.” Sylvie did close the door then and leaned against it with a sigh. Dory would never let her hear the end of it if she ever discovered how her older sister had spent part of last night.

  Dory was banging around in the kitchen when Sylvie emerged. Her eyes drawn to the girls seated on either side of Peg Wiley, she didn’t immediately notice Joel propped in her kitchen doorway, one shoulder against the frame. He held a steaming mug of coffee. “Oversleep?” he asked, mischief sparkling in his eyes.

  “I must’ve forgotten to switch on my alarm,” Sylvie admitted, trying her best to douse another blush.

  Rianne glanced up. “Daddy forgot to set his alarm, too,” she announced. “I had to ring the doorbell lots of times to wake him up.”

  Sylvie loved the fact that he turned red as he mumbled, “I worked in my office until almost one a.m., snooks.”

  She would’ve loved to ask what was so fascinating about his job, but Dory came over carrying a pot of coffee and three travel cups. She topped Joel’s, and after handing cups to Peg and Sylvie, Dory filled them.

  “Okay,” she said, “let’s load up and go see those pups. I’ll run home and collect Roy first, so Grant can head off to work. Sylvie, guess what? Joel’s taking us all out for breakfast afterward.”

  “Why?” Sylvie scalded her tongue on her coffee.

  “Oh, call it a celebration,” he said, looking smug as he let his gaze settle on her lips.

  Sylvie’s mouth fell open and once again she felt heat flood her face. Last night he’d agreed to keep quiet about their new relationship.

  Aware of exactly what Sylvie was thinking, Joel straightened to his full height before clarifying his earlier statement. “You don’t want to celebrate choosing a new pup? I thought that called for at least an orange-juice toast.”

  Kendra and Rianne flew off the couch and danced around and around. “I want a clown-face pancake with strawberry eyes and a chocolate-chip smile,” Kendra shouted.

  “Whoa. Lower the volume,” Dory said, stilling her daughter’s frantic movements. “Since Rianne’s daddy’s buying, he gets to choose where we eat.”

  Kendra stopped. She glanced up and up and up at her friend’s tall father. “’Cept for my grandma Nan’s Mickey Mouse pancakes, Bettyanne’s clown pancakes are the best.”

  “I want a clown pancake, too, Daddy.” Rianne added her plea to Kendra’s.

  “Who’s Bettyanne?” Joel turned helpless eyes on the women in the room. “If I agree, will I be putting some poor neighbor of yours on the spot, Dory?”

  She laughed. And it was Sylvie who supplied his answer. “Bettyanne Carmichael runs a bed-and-breakfast about two miles out of town. During the winter when tourist season slows, locals can make reservations to have breakfast there.”

  “Is tourist season over?” Joel inquired of the room at large.

  “Not until after Labor Day,” Sylvie said.

  “Not to worry.” Dory hauled out her cell phone. “I heard Bettyanne and Mick’s oldest daughter, Brandy, just got engaged. She’ll want you to make her dress, Sylvie. You guys run on ahead to see Peg’s pups. Here—” she pulled three of Sylvie’s pattern books out of the bookshelf “—take these. I’ll phone Bettyanne.”

  Dory shoved everyone out the door. It wasn’t until Sylvie found herself seated next to Joel and on her way to Peg’s home, that she wondered whether or not this was another elaborate setup hatched by her family.

  “Peg, did Trixie have her puppies early?”

  “Maybe a day. I alerted Doc Weber last week. He said he’d drop in as this was Trixie’s first litter. Why did you think she delivered early, Sylvie?”

  She turned to smile at Peg. “Just confused, I guess. It’s nothing,” she added.

  Joel glanced at her. “I know what you’re thinking, Sylvie,” he said in a low voice. “This is the marriage vigilantes’ work. But it’s gotta be coincidence.”

  She bobbed her head. “You’re right. They couldn’t anticipate exactly when Trixie would give birth.” Shifting closer, she murmured, “Watch what you say at breakfast, Joel. Especially if we’re discussing weddings. That’s when they’re at their sneakiest.”

  “I get you. You mean talking about weddings begets more weddings?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Are you two getting married?” Peg leaned excitedly toward them.

  “No, no and no!” Sylvie pounced on her poor unsuspecting friend.

  Joel caught Peg’s eye in the rearview mirror and shrugged.

  She arched a narrow eyebrow. “Ah, I understand. Nan’s wearing her matchmaking hat again, and this time you two are in her sights, huh, Sylvie?”

  “You hit that nail square, Peg. Oh, Joel, turn in the driveway by the dark green house. That’s Peg’s.”

  “I live in the white house next door,” Kendra said from the far backseat. “Mama beat us home. I guess Daddy left, ’cause Mama’s got Roy.”

  They could all see that Dory stood at the end of the drive holding Roy. The minute Sylvie opened her door, Dory came up to explain that eating at Bettyanne’s was out. “Brandy does want you to make her dress, Syl, but she’ll have to come see you. The bed-and-breakfast is full. So it’s breakfast at the café in town, kids, or nada.”

  They groused a bit, but the prospect of seeing the puppies for the first time made them forget about clown pancakes.

  Peg led them up a cobblestone walk and into a pristine house. They followed single file into a den that had obviously been given over to the dog, who lay on her side in an elaborate doggie bed. The five puppies were tumbling over one another to eat. Trixie raised her spotted head when the visitors walked in and slapped her tail several times against the pillow.

  “Which puppy do you want, Sylvie? I promised my husband I’d only keep one,” Peg added, gazing lovingly at all five squirming little creatures.

  “I want one,” Rianne said. “Daddy, Peg said they won’t be big enough to leave Trixie for eight whole weeks. But that could be my birthday present.”

  Kendra hugged Rianne. “Two look ’xactly alike. We’re getting one, Mama said. If you take the other one with black spots, our puppies can be twins.”

  Joel touched Rianne’s shoulder. “What about Fluffy? She didn’t like Oscar.”

  “Oscar’s big. A puppy’s little. I’ve got a calendar that shows kitties and puppies who are friends. I bet they can be friends,” Rianne insisted stubbornly.

  “Pup’ies,” two-year-old Roy gurgled, struggling to climb out of his mother’s arms.

  “No, you don’t, tiger. We’re going next door. Yell when you’re ready to go eat. About the puppy, Joel—you may as well give in. Kids don’t let up on something like this.”

  Feeling sorry for him, Sylvie volunteered to help train the dog. He said okay, and the girls got down on hands and knees to discuss the merits of each puppy as they named their new pets Curly and Spotty. Sylvie selected the runt of the litter, and named him Peanut.

  “I’ll talk to Jake when he gets home from work. Maybe he’ll agree to keep the remaining two pups,” Peg mused.

  “Serve his favorite meal,” Sylvie suggested.

  “Now who’s being manipulative?” Joel snorted.

  Sylvie had the grace to look guilty. “It’s a good thing the dogs won’t be ready to wean until well after the Labor Day Festival, Peg. I don’t think I’d want to be training a new pup with all the running around I’ll have to do.”

  “Daddy said my birthday will be over before the festival. Kendra, guess what! I get to have a party. Daddy mailed ’vitations yesterday.” She named the children he’d sent th
em to. The girls left the pups then and began talking birthday party.

  The subject was still being discussed after they were seated at the café.

  “Sylvie’s helping me with the party, girls,” Joel said, as he handed around menus. “Don’t forget,” he reminded Sylvie.

  “I won’t. What’s the date? I’ll mark my calendar when I get home.”

  Rianne shouted out a date a week off. Joel gave the time.

  Dory, busy helping her young son decide what he’d eat, let the conversation slide by without comment. That stunned Sylvie. She said as much when breakfast was over and Joel had driven her home.

  “Maybe it means she’s decided to back off,” he said. “Hey, looks like you’ve got company.” He pointed to a car pulling into Sylvie’s driveway.

  A young woman Sylvie didn’t recognize exited the car and went to knock on her door.

  “Just let me out here at the end of your lane,” Sylvie told Joel. “Maybe that’s Brandy Carmichael.”

  He stopped and she got out of the van.

  “Can I help you?” Sylvie called after a wave at Joel. “This is my house.”

  “Uh, do I have the right place? I’m looking for Sylvie’s Bridal Creations.”

  “That’s me. Are you Bettyanne’s daughter?”

  “No. Melanie Fitzhugh. My older sister, Lacie, lives in Boston. She bought her wedding gown at a small boutique in New York City. I loved that gown so much, I phoned the shop to get the name of the designer. The owner said it was you and told me you’d moved here. That seemed like a stroke of luck, since I live in Asheville.”

  “I remember your sister. Her dress was the first one I ever sold to someone who wasn’t a friend or relative. But...I no longer design gowns. I have books of patterns, though, if you’d care to see them. I’d be happy to make the dress.”

  Joel, who listened unabashedly at his car, found that news interesting. He noticed Sylvie didn’t mention her secret dress. The infamous dress.

  In spite of the young bride-to-be’s wheedling, Sylvie remained adamant. When the girl finally said she’d peruse the pattern books, Joel shut his car doors, took Rianne’s hand and they went in. He wondered if Sylvie and the girl ever came to an agreement. Not wanting Sylvie to know he’d eavesdropped, he never brought up the subject.

  And as the days flew past, he forgot about the woman’s visit. Possibly because he’d decided he wanted the interior of the house painted before he opened his home to the parents of Rianne’s friends.

  Sylvie got tied up, too, cutting and sewing gowns for Brandy Carmichael and Melanie Fitzhugh. Although a day rarely passed that she didn’t dream about Joel at night and think about him during the day.

  It wasn’t until she turned the page on her desk calendar and saw the circled date that she realized Rianne’s party was the next day. She hadn’t bought a gift, nor had she asked Dory about games. In fact, most of the week she’d been out making calls in her Mutt Mobile. Having just come in, she showered and dashed out again to hit town before the stores closed. Her first stop was Carline’s shop.

  “Wow, Carli, I think your baby’s expanded a lot since I saw you at the festival meeting last week. Does your doctor say it’s okay for you to be toting boxes and wrapping gifts for customers?”

  “If I stay home, Sylvie, I’ll go nuts worrying whether or not my delivery will go okay. I’m better off here—even Jeff says so. My part-timer is already working full-time, and she does all the heavy lifting. She ran down the block to get us milk shakes. That’s probably the extra weight you see,” Carline admitted wryly. “I crave one every day lately. Anyway, what brings you to town again? You were here this morning.”

  “Tomorrow is Rianne Mercer’s birthday. She’ll be six. I need a gift.”

  “A token she’s-my-neighbor kind of thing? I took some darling frilly hair clips on consignment. Circles of lace, dotted by tiny silk roses. A satin bow in the middle holds them together around the metal clip. They come in several colors.”

  “Joel asked me to help with the party, Carline. So I’m thinking of something more than just hair clips.”

  “When did all this happen? Do Mom and Dory know? I’m sure they don’t. I can’t believe they’d keep quiet if they knew.”

  “Dory does know. And I’m only helping with games. Being neighborly.”

  “Yeah—a role for a mom or potential stepmom.”

  “Carline, stop it. Do you want my business or not? I haven’t seen Joel or Rianne in over a week. This is a simple favor. One I’d do for anyone in town if they asked.”

  Carline nodded sagely. “By the way, Kendra said Joel brought you and Rianne over to see Peg Wiley’s new pups. And you all went to breakfast together.”

  “We did. So what?”

  Carline leaned on the counter and grinned at Sylvie, who was extremely glad to see her sister’s employee return with their shakes.

  Sylvie wandered around the store, lingering in the kids’ section. She found a pink-and-white jewelry box that, when opened, played a tune. A dainty ballet dancer popped up and twirled around. Sylvie loved the box. As she had it wrapped, she chose a card, and happened to see a book of children’s games. She was so relieved. It meant she could skip putting herself through the same grilling or worse by phoning Dory.

  That was wishful thinking on her part.

  When she got home, the phone was ringing and she grabbed the receiver. “Hi, Mom. What can I do for you? If you’re calling to see if the prizes came for the festival, they have. So relax. My back room’s full of cartons.”

  Her mother didn’t comment on the festival prizes. “I understand things are getting serious between you and Joel Mercer.”

  “Carline told you, right? If she gave you that impression, then pregnancy is making her delusional.”

  “Not ten minutes ago, she said you were in the store buying Rianne Mercer’s birthday gift. Dory already told me he asked you to host his daughter’s party.”

  Sylvie closed her eyes and fell back against the wall. “I’m not hosting. This is the first birthday party he’s given for her, Mom. The poor guy’s in the dark when it comes to kids’ games. I offered to assist.”

  “Well, that’s significant, because when it comes to kids’ games, you’re equally in the dark, Sylvie. Carline said you just bought a book of games.”

  “I did. And do you want to know why? So I won’t have to ask Dory for ideas. And do you know why I don’t want to ask her? I’ll tell you. I knew she’d make a huge big deal of it and call you. After which you’d be on the phone giving me the third degree. And you are on the phone giving me the third degree. I thought better of Carline, the little beast. I rest my case.”

  “Honey, I’m just so excited and happy for you. Dad and I both think Joel is such a nice man. And he plans to make Briarwood his permanent home.”

  “Mo...th...er! I’m hanging up. Talk to my sisters all you want. Plot all you want. None of that’s going to make Joel and me fall in love. Goodbye.” Slamming down the phone, she slid her back down the wall until she sat cradling her head in her hands.

  Sylvie didn’t believe for one minute that yelling at her mom would end her family’s interference. They’d go right ahead planning Joel’s and her wedding. Forging ahead planning their lives. And she’d given him fair warning. Sylvie was oh, so tempted to sit back and watch him wriggle off the same hook both Grant and Jeff had found firmly implanted in their backsides not so long ago.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  SYLVIE’S DAY BEGAN with a frantic phone call from Joel. “Help!” That was his greeting. “It’s Joel. I discovered by accident that my freezer quit. Who does repairs? And do you have freezer space for two big cartons of ice cream that’re getting softer by the minute?”

  “I can probably fit two cartons in my chest freezer. Call Mullins Repair. Maybe Hank or his son can come out right away. What about meat and other perishables?”

  “I didn’t have a lot stocked yet. I’ll put the ice cream in a plastic bag, and le
t Rianne run it over while I mop up. I walked barefoot through water, which is how I noticed the problem.”

  “Okay, I’ll go meet her.” Sylvie said goodbye.

  “Daddy’s stressed,” Rianne announced when she arrived on Sylvie’s doorstep. “He stayed up last night to make the house shipshape for my party. ’Cause he’s been painting walls all week. What’s shipshape, Sylvie?”

  “It means he wanted everything to look nice for when people come to your party. Is painting what’s kept you two so busy? I wondered, since I hadn’t seen either of you in days. You want to come in and make sure I have room for this?”

  Rianne skipped along, following Sylvie out onto her porch to a chest-type freezer. “These cartons fit fine, Rianne. Your ice cream will be nice and firm by party time.”

  “Fluffy got sick on my bed yesterday. We hadda take her to the vet. The vet said she might be ’llergic to the paint smell. So till the smell goes away, she has to stay on our back porch with the screen. She doesn’t like it.”

  “Man, you and your dad have had some week. Other than storing ice cream, what can I do? Fluffy’s welcome to stay with me for a few days.”

  “I’ll tell Daddy. He’s worried Fluffy might run away if one of the kids accidentally let her out. Sylvie, will you braid my hair for my party? I’m wearing the dress Daddy bought me for the wedding. I wanted to wear one I had in Atlanta, but it’s too short. Daddy said I grew a foot since we moved. He didn’t say my foot or his and his is way bigger.”

  Sylvie smiled. “I’ve got a surprise you might want now. I worked hard this week, too, and I made you two dresses. I need you to try them on so I’ll know where to run hems. If you’d like to wear the fancy one today, I’ll hem it now. It’s okay, though, if you’d still prefer to wear your other one. It’s very pretty.”