by JoAnn Ross
“It would be perfect,” Doris agreed without Dottie having had to speak a word. She turned back to Kara.
“How do you feel about vintage clothing?”
“It depends. If you’re talking sixties minis covered with daisies—”
“No. This would be late nineteen fifties,” Dottie said.
“My prom dress was from that period. But I look back on that ruffled lavender tulle now and wonder what I was thinking.”
“Oh, I’m sure you were lovely,” Doris said.
“Lavender’s one of my favorite colors.” Dottie told them nothing Kara didn’t already know. While Doris favored earth tones, Dottie had always gone for brighter colors and feminine pastels. “And lavender would have looked lovely with your auburn hair. But the dress I’m thinking of, while originally white, is a lovely ivory now. And it does have some satin tulle, but I promise, it’s not at all fussy. In fact, it’s feminine, fun, and very classic.”
“That sounds like a possibility,” Kara said carefully, exchanging a concerned glance with her friends, who appeared as underwhelmed by the prom dresses as she was.
“It would be perfect,” Doris agreed.
Maddy glanced around the room. “It sounds wonderful. But I don’t see it.”
“That’s because it’s not here.” Both women spoke at once.
“It’s at home,” Dottie said. “In the back of my closet.”
“It’s your dress?”
“Yes, and you don’t have to worry, because while I certainly don’t have the figure I once did, I was about your size when I married my Harold.” The twins had married another set of identical twins. The elderly woman’s eyes warmed in a way that suggested she was remembering her own wedding.
She wasn’t alone. Although Kara had always told Sax everything, the one thing she hadn’t told him was that while she knew that Jared would want her to be happy, he would have been even more pleased that she was going to be spending the rest of her life with their close friend.
And while Kara had written a letter to her husband after falling in love with Sax, she couldn’t help experiencing just a bit of what she recognized as survivor guilt. The same guilt she’d realized that Sax must have felt when he returned from being the lone survivor of his last battle in Afghanistan.
“Oh, I couldn’t take your dress—”
“Don’t be foolish.” Dottie brushed Kara’s concerns away with a wave of her plump hand. “It’s just been packed away for years, doing no one any good. In fact, I was seriously thinking of giving it away to charity when we moved down here from Washington. But for some reason, although our home is much smaller, and I don’t have nearly as much closet space, I held on to it.”
She dimpled prettily, giving Kara a glimpse of the young woman she’d once been. “Obviously it was meant for you. You girls just stay here while Doris helps you find a dress for your mother, and I’ll be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”
She was off and out the door before Kara could say another word. After exchanging a look with the others, she shrugged and let Doris lead her over to another rack of more tailored dresses. Which would, Kara thought, suit her mother much better than tulle. In fact, she thought it said a great deal about how their relationship had changed that Shelter Bay’s style icon was even allowing her daughter to choose her attire for such an important occasion.
Kara didn’t know exactly how long it took for a lamb to shake its tail, but apparently Dottie had been optimistic concerning her timing. Kara chose a sheath knee-length dress with a matching bolero jacket in a lovely shade of teal, which Doris assured her would complement the natural silver her mother had mentioned her formerly ash-blond hair had turned to while she’d been traveling the world on emergency medical missions. Then Kara, Charity, and Maddy were served tea, made with herbs from Lavender Hill Farm, and the fresh-baked cookies that the women always seemed to have available for their customers.
“I’m back,” Dottie said, her cheeks flushed as she raced back into the shop. “I’m sorry I took longer, but I got caught at the railroad crossing by a train that seemed to go on forever. However…”
She unzipped the white plastic garment bag. When she held up the gown, Kara could’ve sworn she felt her heart stop.
“Oh. My. God. That’s Audrey Hepburn’s gown. From Funny Face.” Only the most iconic wedding gown ever. “The one she wore dancing with Fred Astaire.”
The beaded dress was sleeveless, with the bateau Sabrina neckline the actress had inspired, a tight dropped waistline, and full, tea-length skirt. If a fairy godmother had suddenly shown up and offered her the wedding dress of her dreams, this was the one Kara would’ve chosen.
“Well, it’s not the actual dress,” Dottie allowed. “But it was a very popular copy. In its time.”
“It’s obviously a classic,” Maddy said.
“It’s as fresh and modern as it looked in that movie you’ve only made us watch about a dozen times,” Charity added.
With hands that were uncharacteristically unsteady, Kara took the hanger, held it against her chest, and stood in front of the three-way mirror, turning left and right. Okay, admittedly the starched khaki uniform she was wearing didn’t help, but it still was the most perfect, most romantic gown in the world.
“Sax isn’t going to know what hit him when you walk down that white satin runner,” Doris said.
“Good thing Lucas is a former medic,” Maddy said. “Because Sax might just keel over.”
“Or, more likely, swallow his tongue,” Charity said.
Feeling like Hepburn herself, despite the fact that, along with her uniform, Kara was also wearing her ugly black cop shoes, she twirled, hugging the dress tight.
“I love it.” It was the understatement of the year. Decade. Century. “How much are you asking for it?” It didn’t matter. She’d max out every one of her credit cards if that was what it took. After all, it wasn’t as if she was ever going to get married again.
“Oh, I couldn’t sell it!” When Dottie sounded honestly shocked by that idea, Kara thought she’d meant to loan it to her.
She was wrong.
“It’s a gift.”
“I couldn’t.” Even as she said it, she stroked a hand over the beaded top. “A wedding dress is so personal.”
“After sixty years of marriage, I certainly don’t need a dress to remind me that I married my soul mate,” Dottie said. “Besides, as I said, Harold and I downsized when we moved here from Washington, and quite honestly it’s been taking up a good portion of my closet I could use for clothes I actually wear.”
She put a hand over Kara’s. “Please, dear. Not only would you be doing me a favor clearing out space, but it would do my heart good to see you wear it when you marry your handsome groom.”
Kara seldom cried. And she’d never, ever cried while in uniform. That was the first thing she’d learned at the academy from the more experienced policewomen trainers. Never let them see you sweat. And above all, never let them see you cry.
But that didn’t stop her eyes from misting up as she thought how, once again, Shelter Bay had woven its own brand of magic.
25
Proving J.T.’s prediction wrong, Mary didn’t fall asleep during the short play. According to the story acted out by the children, Shelter Bay had begun as a scattering of fishing shanties that had been built around a small railroad station.
Then one day, during the nineteen hundreds, a fortunate—for the town—derailment on the Oregon-California border stopped all train traffic up the coast. The fortunate part had been that a shirttail relative of Charles Crocker, one of the founders of the Central Pacific Railroad, happened to be traveling in his private Pullman car.
While he was stuck in the small town, the stationmaster had mentioned that native Indians and fishermen claimed that the springs out at Rainbow Lake held strange curative powers, so, having suffered debilitating headaches all his life, he sent his manservant out to get him some of that supposedly miraculou
s water.
“Ten minutes after he drank it,” a little blond girl with Orphan Annie curls informed the audience, “hith headache was all gone!” The exaggerated emotion, along with her pronounced lisp, had the audience, most of whom undoubtedly knew the story well, laughing.
Knowing he’d struck gold, the mogul built a grand hotel in town and a lodge at the lake, then, using his family ties to reporters in newspapers up and down the coast, started a promotional campaign touting the hot springs as a miracle cure-all.
“I guess that proves that if you bottle it, they will come,” Mary said as J.T. drove back down the hill toward Harborview Drive.
“There were a lot of snake-oil salesmen in those days,” J.T. said. “But people continue to buy the stuff, so who knows? Maybe it does really work. One thing I noticed they failed to mention is that along with all the Victorians built by rich people coming here for the cure were others built as brothels for the sailors and fishermen. Cole’s best friend’s fiancée lives in that one.” He pointed out a lovely yellow home with a wide front porch and flower boxes in the windows. “She’s a vet.”
“It’s lovely.” Mary read the sign in front. “Oh, she’s a veterinarian vet. Not a military one.”
“Yeah. She’ll be at the wedding, but you’ll probably want to keep your distance.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s stuck nearly everyone in town with one of her rescued dogs or cats. Word is she’s as relentless as a Marine sniper when she gets you in her sights.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Though, Mary considered, she wouldn’t mind having some companionship other than her imaginary characters.
“Good idea. That little girl, the one with the lisp, is hers. Well, she and Gabe adopted her and her brother.”
“Oh, I already like her.”
“Everyone does,” he said as he pulled up in front of the Dancing Deer Two boutique. “Which is how she slips beneath your radar and the next thing you know, you’re at the pet store buying dog toys and kibble.” He cut the engine and turned toward her. “You sure you want to do this? We’ve only got twenty minutes.” Skepticism that she could pull off a shopping trip so quickly showed on his face.
“O ye of little faith.” Not waiting for him to come around and open the door, she was out of the SUV and headed toward the store with the cheerful blue and yellow striped awnings.
A bell jingled as she opened the door, J.T. on her heels.
After entering, he turned the sign to CLOSED and twisted the lock.
The front of the boutique was empty, but knowing that she’d need some help for speed shopping, Mary followed the voices coming from the back of the store.
“Oh, wow.” She stopped when she saw the sheriff standing in front of a three-way mirror holding an ivory beaded dress up against her body. “That’s the wedding gown from Funny Face.”
Kara spun around and, on seeing J.T., spread her hands over the front of the dress, the same way she might have done if she’d been stark naked.
“J.T.! What are you doing here?”
“Apparently shopping,” he said. “And I’m sorry, ladies, but I’ve been tasked with keeping enthusiastic fans away so Ms. Joyce can get in and out of here in time for the showing of her movie. In”—he looked down at the wide steel watch he wore on a tanned wrist—“nineteen minutes. And counting,” he said with a warning look at Mary. “I hope you don’t mind, but I closed your store for a few minutes.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” the twins said. “We love being able to help.” Doris held out her hand. “Doris Anderson,” she said. “This is my sister Dottie and we’re honored to have you visit our little shop.”
“It’s lovely,” Mary said. “The window display drew me in.”
“Why, thank you. We spent a great deal of time planning those. Our husbands, Harold and Henry, built those pretty platforms for the shoes for us.”
“They did a great job,” Mary said, hoping that the conversation would move on, since as much as she’d like to be able to chat, as J.T. had insisted on pointing out, the clock was ticking.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Kara complained to J.T.
“Why not?”
“Because you can’t see the bride in her wedding dress before the wedding.”
“I may not have ever been married, but I thought that rule was for the groom.”
“Same idea,” Kara said, shoving the dress into Charity’s arms and placing her hands on her hips, just below her heavy gun belt. While movie actress cops often looked more like cover models than police officers, somehow, Mary considered, Kara managed to pull off both looks. With that red-gold hair and tall, slender figure, she brought to mind Nicole Kidman.
“It’s only natural for your loyalty to be with your brother. But”—she wagged a finger at him—“if you dare say one word to him—”
J.T. threw up both hands as if she were about to put him under arrest. “My lips are sealed, Officer. Please don’t bring out the bright lights and rubber hoses.”
As Kara visibly relaxed and laughed, Mary was surprised by the J. T. Douchett she’d caught only a rare and fleeting glimpse of. Despite his feigned fear, it was obvious that he was not only more relaxed with his soon-to-be sister-in-law but genuinely fond of her.
“Just don’t tell him you saw me and you can avoid arrest. Which is just as well, since I only have two jail cells. One is currently occupied by Marvin Miller, who fell off the wagon again and is sleeping off last night’s drunk.” She shook her head. “And a bald insurance man dressed up like a mermaid—”
“Merman,” Mary heard herself saying. Good move, idiot. Contradicting a police officer. Even in Ireland, you didn’t talk back to the Garda.
“Well, whatever you call him, I had to take him in on a drunk and disorderly after he attacked another merman during an argument over which of them was actually the true prince regent to the selkie queen.”
She dragged a hand through her bright hair. “His hearing is this afternoon, during which time he’ll probably be let go after he apologizes to the court and pays for the chairs he broke at the Stewed Clam and the hospital bill for the other alleged prince, who had to get stitches for the cut on his forehead.”
“I’m sorry,” Mary said.
“Why? You didn’t do anything.”
“They’re only here in Shelter Bay because of me.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it. We have our own share of crazies and the tourist season brings even more. Don’t even get me talking about the people every year who have to be rescued after they get the great idea that it’d be cool to go swimming with our resident whales.
“And, to be perfectly honest, after being a cop in the city, stuff like this makes my job more interesting than handing out citations for expired tags or investigating bashed mailboxes.”
She turned back to J.T. “Now. You—go away.”
“Sorry. But you told me to stick to Ms. Joyce like a barnacle. Which is what I’m doing.”
“I didn’t put it that way,” Kara assured Mary. “But I did tell him to stay with you. However,” she said to J.T., “I believe I’m capable of handling things. So, why don’t you grab yourself some cookies and go outside and guard the door while Ms. Joyce finds the clothes she needs?” She made a shooing gesture with her hand.
Looking like a man who’d just gotten a last-minute reprieve from the electric chair, J.T. didn’t hesitate to take her advice and leave.
“That’s very good,” Mary said.
“I’ve known him forever,” Kara said with a quick grin. “It helps. Especially since he had a crush on me when he was in middle school. Not that either of us ever mentions it.”
“I won’t say a word. And the name, by the way, is Mary.” She took in the gown the other woman was holding. “That truly is a beautiful dress and you’re going to look beyond gorgeous in it.”
After telling her a shortened version of how it belonged to one of the two owners of the boutique, who had rushe
d off and were back with cookies for their movie-star guest, Kara introduced the women with her.
“You probably get tired of hearing this,” Mary told Maddy, “but I am a major fan girl.”
“Thank you. That’s lovely to hear,” the celebrity chef said. “Especially since I’m a huge fan of your work.”
“Thank you.” Mary felt a burst of pride that someone whose shows she never missed watching on TV enjoyed her movies. She smiled at the other woman. “Hi.”
“Hi yourself. I’m Charity Tiernan.”
“The vet J.T. told me about. Who’s engaged to his brother’s best friend.”
“That would be me,” Charity said. “And I’ll bet he also warned you to stay away from me if you didn’t want a dog.”
“Or a cat,” Mary said.
Charity laughed. “I can be a little driven. But you can relax, because I never push any animal on anyone who doesn’t really want one. And wouldn’t be a good fit with it.” She tilted her head and studied Mary. “How do you work?”
“Excuse me?”
“I mean, do you go to a studio all day? Or do you mostly write at home?”
“At home, but—”
“Enough,” Kara said on a rich laugh. “Give Mary a break. I’m sure there are lots of dogs in Los Angeles that need adopting. But she’s got to get to her next event and we’re holding her up.…Just tell Dottie and Doris what you’re looking for, and they’ll have you fixed up in no time.”
“In two shakes of a lamb’s tail,” Doris said.
“That’s true,” Charity said. “I’ve never been much for shopping, but they’re wonders at finding me exactly the right thing.”
“Well, I need some more casual clothes to wear during the day. And something to wear to the wedding,” Mary told them. Then, as they began rifling through the racks, she said to Kara, “If you’re sure you don’t mind J.T. inviting me.”
“Are you kidding? Everyone will be so excited. Including my mother, who told me she watched Siren Song in Japanese when they were there helping after the tsunami.”