by Hope Lyda
I consider this. “Why Nepal?”
“Just a random location.”
“Very random.” She’s right that I shouldn’t worry.
“Let’s walk out and grab a coffee at the corner? I can’t wait to have my office buddy back.” Lysa’s arm goes around my shoulders for a quick squeeze.
“Sure.” My eyes take in the hallways that used to seem so drab and sorry. Now I notice the small things that make them personal and warm. The scattered decorations. A master list of every resident’s birthday. Embroidered nameplates on each door. Photos of family members and days gone by pinned to bulletin boards and door frames. “Can you believe I miss this?”
“I wouldn’t have believed it my first week here…but yeah, now I can.”
Count Down: Day Five
Thursday
The man of our dreams stands in my doorway. The man we have been waiting for all of our lives—well, our past week—fills the frame and is bowed on one knee. I hold my breath and twirl my hair in anticipation.
“Whichever of you is Mari Hamilton, sign here.”
I bow down beside him and accept his muscular knee as a more-than-adequate desk. “You don’t know how happy you have made me.” I feign tears, but the sight of five large clothing cartons leaning on the stoop is enough to incite real ones.
“Okay. I must state the rules,” I say to the women gathered in my small apartment. “I love you all, but no food or drink until after we have looked through the clothes.”
Nobody argues. Lysa, Caitlin, Sadie, and Angelica are joined by my Majestic friends and future models Sophie, Sonya, Amie, and Halo—who want their spa names for the runway. All stare past me and focus on the boxes with excitement. Tess’ clothes from Golden Horizons are also displayed in all their glory.
“No fights. Something fabulous will be found for each of my models to showcase. Caitlin will help us create looks that add the hip factor, and then I’ll use this printout from Isabel in New York to assess the value.” I merely glance at the numbers on the suggested starting-bid list and my heart races. “Okay, I did mention no food or drink by these incredible clothes, right?”
“We got it, dear. Let the show begin.” Angelica rolls her eyes, pries the paper from my hands, and also notices the prices. In a daze she adds, “No kidding about Mari’s food rule. Oh, my gosh. We will literally be dressed like royalty.”
I thought there would be screams and shouts as I opened up box after box of incredible fashion creations, but everyone stands in a circle of awe around me. For nearly two hours we evaluate the designs and compare their size, color, and style to the model lineup. Caitlin literally swoons every few minutes as she recognizes the work of famous designers.
“Mari, this is an original Edith Head gown. She was the most sought after designer for films. She dressed Grace Kelly, Audrey Hepburn…everyone.” Caitlin starts to embrace the floor-length, off-the-shoulder number but pulls back before the fabric can get near her lipstick.
“It is incredible. You should be the one to wear that. It even has bright colors. Who else could pull that off?” I ask.
“Sadie…and you know it. This is so elegant. Sadie should wear something as famous as an Edith Head design.” Caitlin, as always, puts Sadie above herself.
“I disagree. Strongly. This is you. You are our designer, our theatrical kind of gal. Besides, I already set aside a whopper for Sadie.” I motion her over to the hallway. Hanging from my closet door is a breathtaking bridal gown.
“Oh, yes! This is perfect.” Caitlin claps and laughs with delight, beckoning the others to peek around the corner from the living room into the hallway.
“That is amazing!” cries Halo, who pushes her way to stand in front of the dress. Gingerly she touches the beaded bodice.
“It’s for Sadie to wear,” I say, turning to watch my friend’s expression.
Sadie shakes her head back and forth. A bit in disbelief, I think, but also in protest. “Mari, you should wear this. It’s the pearl of the show.” She says this but her eyes say more.
“I am the director, not a mere model. Besides, I have the dress I’m going to wear.” From where I stand, I can see the clean lines and gentle sweep of the gray Christian Dior. Or “my finale” as Tess called it. “The one I plan to wear is not for sale.”
“Yet you plan to sell this?” Halo tries to phrase her next question sensitively. “What if…I mean…what about when you get married someday, wouldn’t you love to have this?”
“Like you said, ‘someday.’ I’ve lived with my head in the future for too long. You can get lost that way. Besides, this dress will go for a good price and help me reach the goal for this event.” I shake my head slightly. “I need to sell it. Friends, can I chat with Ms. Verity alone?”
The gathering of women have primped and sashayed long enough. They head for the kitchen and soon are more than making up for missing their dinner.
“Mari, I agree with Halo. This should either be your keepsake or at least worn by you.”
“You, Sadie, are the one closest to wearing one of these for real.” I drape the accompanying veil over her immaculate hair.
“I’m not so sure about that. Carson’s been kind of distant recently. I think my period of odd behavior might have made him rethink the forever after part of our potential. He’d probably think this was my idea as a way to bring him around or something.”
“I will make it very clear to Carson that this was my doing. He is going to contribute to the show, by the way. You were right.”
She looks relieved. “I was hoping he would. How much?”
“I think he’ll be writing a check, but his big contribution will be to loan to us diamonds and jewels for the show. The look will be complete. I thought I’d save that little extra as a surprise for the others. He even showed me the jewelry he plans to bring. Incredible stuff. The guy has taste.”
“Obviously,” she says, laughing. “Hey…wait. That’s not fair. You get to go look at jewelry with my boyfriend. What’s wrong with this picture?” She takes a glove from the mesh bag draping from the dress hanger and slaps me with it.
“Ha, ha. Very funny. Now try this on.” I place the bridal gown in Sadie’s hands and attempt to keep my lips from forming a large, obvious smile.
Countdown: Day Four
Friday
Where are you?” Angelica whispers over the phone to match my own tone.
“I’m in the restaurant bathroom. Beau’s waiting for me, so I don’t have much time. What do you think?”
“Okay. Let me get this straight. The question is…do I think you should ask Beau to move here for the sole purpose of giving the relationship more time or do I think you should not ask Beau because when he asked you were noncommittal.”
“Right. That’s it.”
A loud flush fills the cavernous room.
“Wait, Angelica. I couldn’t hear your answer.”
“I think you should not,” she shouts.
Doesn’t she know that I called her specifically because I thought she would support such a courageous and strong-woman move? “Don’t tell me you think only the guy can suggest this for it to work!”
“Hey, lady. Are you ever going to get out of there?” A young girl’s hand points under the door of my stall with urgency.
“One more minute,” I tell her and Angelica at the same time.
“The guy did suggest this Mari. And you weren’t ready.”
I protest, “But I am now. This is the point of this mid-dinner conversation.”
“I believe you should let this bizarre piece of the puzzle also work itself out. You said it. You’re trusting God’s hand in this. Maybe you will be the one to introduce the idea again. But Mari, in a matter of days you will have everything you’ve been hoping for. Let a few details wait. I know more than any of us that rushing into relationships is usually about settling, not about believing in something real.”
Dang. I forgot that Angelica has undergone a metamorphosis. I
should have called Caitlin. She would encourage anything romantic. But I know Angelica is right.
The child bangs on the door with the palm of her hand.
“Okay!” I shout from my impromptu phone booth. “Bye, Angelica. Thanks. See you tomorrow.”
I exit my stall and face off with the girl who is crossing her legs. “I’m sorry I made you wait, but this is a dire case of life or death.”
“‘Dire case of life or death’ is redundant for one thing. Secondly, get real. Dating is hardly a matter of life or death.” She pushes past me and shuts the door in my face.
I look heavenward and grimace. Now that Tess is gone, God is apparently giving me life lessons from a ten-year-old.
Count Down: Day Three
Saturday
Places, everyone!” I stomp my very feminine shoes in a very nondainty way to bring order to the backstage chaos. Just an hour before, Halo and I had everything organized. Each model has her own rack with four outfits, one for every season, and all the accessories. Pinned to each outfit is a description and price card the models will hand Wendy Skies as they start out on the runway. Thanks to Isabel and a few brainstorming calls with Gisele, this is one streamlined, short-notice fashion show.
Well, was. “Get in order. Remember the order. Does everyone have their winter outfits on first?” I quickly scan the lineup to be sure that my friends are clad in muffs, furs, winter whites, and silver snowflake necklaces courtesy of Carson.
I peek out from the velvet curtains and see that nearly every seat is filled. Lionel had arranged the tables in long rows all facing the stage. So the feel is more Vegas show than banquet. I love it.
Life-sized color photos of the various items in the fashion show dangle from fishing line attached to the ceiling. White tabs outline the images to look like paper doll clothes. Cool handbags with polka-dots, alligator shoes, thigh-high boots with sequins, minidresses with turtlenecks, hats in styles ranging from exotic to refined, and graceful gowns dance about our heads.
This fantastic display is Caitlin’s vision, but it reminds me of Tess.
I give Beau, who graciously agreed to be my backstage manager, a thumbs-up. He cues Yvette to lower the house lights, focus the spotlights, and start filming for the online bidders. Zane is right on the heels of the mood change and starts playing a CD. “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” by Dean Martin fills the room.
I make sure each girl has her information card to hand to Wendy, who is dressed head to toe in Chanel. The blue silk gown with honey-colored trim and a lace-up back I gave her as a thank-you reveals the apparent benefits to an extended mud bath…a rosy back, smooth shoulders, and glistening arms.
“Go, Angelica.” I direct my friend forward with a gentle push.
One by one my wonderful friends strut along the runway that runs parallel to the guest tables. When we realized that our ministage was used up by our makeshift backstage, Beau and Carson put together a runway out of long banquet tables, press board, and a plush pink carpet that Lionel uses when Majestic hosts their annual Mother’s Day spa weekend.
“Mari, you could sell a few of these, live off of the money, and then volunteer at Golden Horizons. Why the bigger goal?” Halo asks while wriggling out of a Diane von Furstenberg wrap dress.
“It’s what I am supposed do. I feel it. And it’s about more than my security. It’s about what these people need now and down the road. Besides, this event will bring more attention to Golden Horizons than any promotional campaign ever could.”
“Uh-oh, watch out.” Halo feigns fear.
“What?”
“You’re starting to sound like a politician.”
I laugh. “Actually, I sound like my mother.”
“Is this too short? I didn’t think about walking a bit above the guests.” Caitlin walks with a stride that gives the illusion she has hips. This is her last dress to model and she wants it to be a showstopper.
“Wait, let me try this.” I sit on the ground and pretend to applaud and raise my bid paddle. She repeats her walk beside me.
I get up and go over to a chest of extras I brought just in case. An oversized purse in a color similar to the stripes on her fall outfit should do the trick. “Hold this close to your body and keep it on the side of the audience when you turn.”
“Yes! That’s it. Can you believe this is almost over? Do you know how we are doing?”
“Every outfit has had several rounds of competing bids, so I think we did more than okay. And there is still the finale.”
“Sadie will look so pretty.”
“You and the others can go out into the audience after this last round. I want us all to be able to see Sadie. Now, go make that tall policeman smile.”
“Can you believe he came to a fashion show? What a good sport.”
“Your amethyst brooch is crooked…there.” I adjust my friend’s pin and send her on out. I hear a round of applause as Wendy announces the dress.
“It doesn’t get any more hip than this ladies and gentleman. This is an original Mary Quant design. In fact, this very dress was featured in her first New York show. Don’t be shy…this is the last piece before tonight’s finale.” I watch the paddles rise in every row. Caitlin strategically places the bag between her hemline and Kevin Milano’s zoom lens.
While Caitlin holds center stage, I go in search of my closing act. Behind the row of clothing racks, Sadie is turning slowly in front of the full-length mirror.
“Do I have time to present her with this?” Carson approaches me holding a beautiful pearl necklace in a satin box.
I wave him through the narrow space between me and the curtain. Sadie notices she has an audience and turns to face us just in time to see the necklace. Her slender hand goes to her neck.
Carson looks at her with deep affection. “I thought diamonds might be too much. I hope this is okay.”
“It’s beautiful. Thank you. Mari, isn’t this the perfect choice?” Sadie models the whole look.
“A-hem,” Lionel clears his throat to get our attention.
“Heavenly. And your lucky escort just arrived.” I step aside to introduce Lionel to Carson and Sadie.
The two walk toward the opening in the curtain. Sadie glances back at Carson one more time before stepping onto the runway. Once they are out of earshot, I break out with a laugh and nudge him. “You thought diamonds would be too much…nice line. Do you have it?”
The nervous man beside me pats the breast pocket of his tuxedo.
“Showtime,” I say, grabbing his hand and leading him to the masking tape X on the floor. “I will let you know when she and Lionel are at the very end of the runway…then you can step out.” My breathing is quick with anticipation, but my mind is moving in slow motion. I think about the day I met Sadie, and how after college we were so glad to hook up again because most of our mutual friends, other than Angelica, had moved out of town as soon as they had diplomas in their hands. My eyes mist up as I prepare to watch this dress rehearsal for a future, real wedding.
One of us is getting married. It is a startling thought. As much as we all secretly hope or boldly assume this step will be a part of our lives, it is still a shock to me when it becomes reality for someone.
I see Lionel stop at the edge of the runway and step aside so Sadie gets all of the attention. The crowd adores the dress. As Dean Martin’s “Amore” plays overhead, the event is transformed from a fund-raiser into a night of romance. Even Jace is down front blowing kisses at Sadie. “Get ready,” I say to Carson. “She’ll be turning around to return down the runway any second.”
Carson moves forward with an appearance of confidence his shaking hands betray. I appreciate him all the more for coming up with such a romantic surprise. Sadie in the dress and him waiting for her at the end of the aisle, ready to propose.
The audience’s growing understanding of what is about to happen leads them to “ahh” and “ooh” loud enough to pull me out of my thoughts and into the moment.
Sa
die looks around her, at the audience, and finally at Carson. Her inquisitive look seems to be asking him whether he knows he is visible on the stage. But as she approaches him, her expression softens and tears form in her eyes. Carson moves to one knee and removes the small box from his pocket.
I watch my beautiful friend receive the ring and the hand of the one who will walk with her into the future. My heart is so full that for the first time in days…in years…my mind is not on my personal deadline but on the joy of the moment.
And thanks to Kevin Milano, this scene of my friend saying “I will” to a future “I do” will trump Jace’s soufflé, Wendy’s smile, the models’ gowns, and Majetic’s elegance to make the cover of tomorrow’s Style section.
Countdown: Day Two
Sunday
Beep.
“Mari? Hey, this is Sal. Remember me…the lavender guy? I watched your fashion show yesterday. I bought a rhinestone brooch for my girlfriend online. We met in one of the chat rooms off your old site, so I guess I owe you a big thanks for never returning my call for a first date…I got me a real soul mate. Well, best of luck with everything. (Pause) Guess that’s it. Okay…Bye now.”
Beep.
I hit the replay button one more time so Beau can hear all of the message.
“Should I be worried?”
“Sal is hardly my type.”
“No, I meant the…”
“Oh, the scary factor. Don’t worry,” I reassure him.
“I’d worry less if I lived nearby. Someday…”
Now he is rubbing it in…my earlier lack of courage. I heed Angelica’s advice and do not say I changed my mind. Instead, I change the subject. “I’m glad I indirectly helped Sal find true love.” I spend a few moments looking at Beau and wondering…have I met my soul mate? Then wondering…do I even believe in such things?