The Wedding Shop (36 page)

“You're a life saver.” He knew it was right to drive down here. “I can pay you for the inventory, and your time.”

“Nothing doing. Look, I'm generous, but I'm also a businesswoman. I'm merely moving inventory to Haley's shop, letting my dresses be sold in Heart's Bend. She'll be working for me, so to speak. I'll run the sales through my account and split the money with Haley. That'll keep her going until her
real
inventory arrives. Dix, pull veils, shoes, gloves, hats, slips, and bras. Cole, come help me with the gowns. When Tim arrives, he can load up racks and mannequins, and oh, the display stands.”

Standing in their midst, Cole barely followed the conversation after the initial plan. Charlotte and Dixie started talking wedding-gown lingo in a language he thought was English but possibly not human.

They finished each other's sentences. Spoke in code and acronyms with a frightening precision. Like a military strike force.

“What do you think, Cole? Does that sound like what Haley needs? Oh, man, should we call her? No, this should be a surprise. The man who loves her driving up with shiny white dresses.”

“Um, yeah, let's go for it. But to be honest, I have no idea what you just said other than gowns, shoes, and surprise.”

Charlotte laughed. “Tim is going to love you.”

Dixie started off, hand in the air. “Then let's get to work.”

Charlotte said, “Cole, follow me. I have a special trunk for you to haul.”

H
ALEY

S
aturday evening, the shop sat silent and dark except for the glow of the evening sun. On the mezzanine, Haley lined up the naked mannequins.

“I've called you here today because I want to know why you're naked. Where is your uniform? I can't hear you! We're a team, a unit. We watch each other's back. I've done my part, now what about you? I can't hear you, airman. We have to look sharp at the grand opening or we will all let Miss Cora down.”

She boosted her general-addressing-a-military-parade voice. “We're going to have to make do with what we have. Vintage uniforms. You.” She pointed to the first mannequin. “You'll be Mrs. Peabody's mother.”

Haley reached for the suitcase, snapping open the locks, raising the dress from the gold silk lining. Gently she slipped the gown over the mannequin's head, setting the dress on her rounded shoulders, letting the gown slip to the floor, then stepped back.

“Mrs. Peabody's mother, you're beautiful.” She regarded the faceless mannequin with a spurt of tears in her eyes. She really did look beautiful. Haley straightened the sleeves. “Tammy, what a tale you missed. It would be more fun if you were here.”

But maybe that's why she lost interest. It wasn't her inheritance. It was Haley's.

She brushed her hand under her eyes, reaching for Mrs. Peabody's mother's veil and fluffing the long layers of tulle, her fingers slipping through torn and ragged places.

She'd have to find another veil, but for now . . . what she needed was music. Haley searched the albums on her phone, stopping when she came across Bublé.

The smooth melody of “The Way You Look Tonight” filled the mezzanine.

“Mrs. Peabody's mother, you get to be in the display window.” Haley hoisted the plastic woman on her hip and started down to the grand salon.

But just as she got to the window, balancing the mannequin in the center, Cole peered at her through the glass. Startled, Haley reached for the mannequin's hand, snapping it off. “Cole, what are you doing?” She waved the plastic extremity. “Now I have to call nine-one-one.”

“Open the front door.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

She made a mocking face, dropped Mrs. Peabody's mother's hand to the display floor, and hurried around to unlock the door.

“What's this all about?” she said, standing aside for Cole, who grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her back to the stairs.

“Stay right there.”

“What's going on?”

Voices rushed in from outside. “Put all the dress racks in the grand salon for now. We'll see what Haley wants to do.”

And Charlotte Rose walked through the front door. “The cavalry is here. Haley, meet my assistant, Dixie. Dix, Haley. Now—”

“Charlotte, what are you doing here?”

Dixie marched up a couple of stairs, a stack of shoe boxes in hand. “What do you think of displaying shoes on the stairs?”

“Dix, what a great idea! Haley? What do you think?”

“Wait, will someone tell me what's going on?” She grabbed Cole as he passed by with an armload of dresses. “What did you do?”

“I asked for help.”

Dixie set the shoes on the steps. “Nice to meet you.” She offered her hand with a nod toward Cole. “He's a keeper.”

“Y-yeah, sure, but what's going on?”

Dixie peered into the grand salon. “Haley, this shop is fantastic. I'm officially jealous. The Hollywood regency, the staircase . . . magnificent. Charlotte, I see redecorating in our future. Girl, you are going to knock it out of the park.”

Haley ran up a couple of stairs and in her best captain's voice said, “Stop, everyone.” Cole and a handsome man with an armload of dresses froze in the foyer. Charlotte and Dixie stared at her from the entrance to the grand salon.

“Would someone please tell me what's going on?”

The room exhaled. Cole and the other man went back into motion. Charlotte roped her arm around her shoulders. “Cole drove down to see us last night. Apparently he slept in his truck. Anyway, he told us what happened with your inventory. I'm so sorry but not so surprised. Anyway, he was at our door the moment we opened. Said he wasn't going to let you fail. So we loaded up—Oh, this is my husband, Tim. Tim, did I tell you Haley rides a Harley?”

“No, you didn't. Haley, nice to meet you.”

Charlotte leaned into Haley. “He sold his motocross bikes for me.”

“Haley, do you want to stage some dresses up here on this fantastic mezzanine?” Dixie said, walking around with her iPad, taking notes. “Customers can roam, browse, get the full scope of the place.”

“The mezz is the official changing area for the brides, but for the grand opening, that would be great.”

Charlotte walked the shop, discussing staging and lighting, detailing her temporary partnership with The Wedding Shop, Haley soaking in the “wow” of wonder in her life.

When all the inventory had been brought in, she caught Cole in the pantry. “You went down to Birmingham? Why didn't you tell me?”

He shrugged. “In case it didn't work out. I didn't want you to be disappointed. If it did work out, I thought it'd be a fun surprise.”

She fell into his arms. “You amaze me.”

He kissed her, holding her close, cradling her heart against his. “I couldn't leave my girl hanging.”

“I love being your girl.”

Cole stretched out his foot and kicked the pantry door closed. Brushing Haley's hair aside, he started with her forehead, kissing her temples, then her cheeks, her jaw, and her chin.

His touch ran like warm feathers over her neck and down her arms. Roping their fingers together, his lips found hers as he raised her hands to his neck, gathering her in his arms, saying nothing. Saying everything.

H
ALEY

A
t two a.m., she stood at the top of the stairs with Charlotte on one side, Dixie on the other, surveying her new kingdom.

The Wedding Shop.

It breathed with life, a river of white, cream, and gold gowns flowing from one salon to the next.

The fun vintage gowns were spaced in between the new, like wedding gown mentors, reminders of where the shop had been and where it was going.

Cole and Tim worked outside, a last-minute idea from Dixie to trim the windows with white lights. Tim started to balk at the demanded chore.

“It's not necessary,” Haley said, letting the man off the hook. He'd already worked so hard for someone he didn't know.

But when Dixie barked, “Get to it,” both boys hit the door running.

Haley nodded at her new friend. “You could've been a great master sergeant.”

Charlotte, the grand dame of bridal shops, viewed the salon with arms crossed, her chin raised with approval.

“You are going to have a phenomenal grand opening. I can feel it.”

“What's the plan for Monday?” Dixie stood alongside Charlotte.
“Sign up for a newsletter? Prizes? Music? Do you have bridal consultants? Staff?”

“Yes, a sign up. I forgot about prizes. Yes to music and no shop staff except me, myself, and I. Haven't hired anyone yet. I was on the construction crew until a few weeks ago.”

“All right, Dix, can you come back on Monday and be a consultant for a few days?” Charlotte said. “I can handle things at home with our part-time staff. Haley, get to work on hiring at least one person. Those Elnora gowns I brought are going to fly off the rack. I just know it.”

“Charlotte, you don't have to loan me your best girl.”

“Yes, I do.” Charlotte held her arms. “We're bonded now. Besides, you have my inventory and I want us both to make money. You can learn a lot from Dix too.”

“Haley, you got something going on here.” Dixie rubbed the gooseflesh on her arms.

“I know. Overwhelms me at times.”

Charlotte turned to Haley. “Now that the opening is settled, I have something for you.”

“More than you've already done?” Haley motioned to the shop. “What else could you have? Look at all this you've done for me. I can't thank you enough, Charlotte, Dixie.”

Charlotte ducked into the storeroom, tugging out an old trunk. “Remember the story I told you about my wedding dress and finding it in a battered, ugly trunk?”

“Yeah?” What was she doing? Haley took a step back.

Charlotte knelt next to the trunk. “You were the one who said maybe I should find the next bride.”

“I was just talking. What do I know?”

“But the Lord woke me up in the middle of the night a few months ago and started speaking to me about you. And this dress. Haley, you're the next bride for the dress.”

“Charlotte, I-I can't. Not your special dress.” She wasn't worthy.
Far from it. Only recently had she warmed up to the idea of being in love with Cole. Haley stared down at the battered, beat-up wooden box, shaking, the heat of the Divine running through her.

“I'm just being obedient.” Charlotte released the lock and raised the lid, removing a garment that moved with a light and grace all its own. The pure white gown emanated a gold glow through the seams, into the air, into Haley.

“Designed in 1912 by a black seamstress for a white bride in Birmingham.” Charlotte held up the dress, the scoop neck falling in soft folds and the chapel train swirling over the freshly polished floor.

“Oh, Charlotte, it's the most stunning gown in the place.”

She held the dress up to Haley. “At my wedding, the man who married us, husband of bride number two, said, ‘This wedding gown is like the gospel of Jesus Christ. It fits everyone who tries it on. It's timeless, never wears out, and never needs to be altered, always in style and always beautiful.' ”

Haley stepped back. “Truth is timeless, but, Charlotte, I can't.” She retreated a little deeper into the mezzanine, a taut pull between who she was and who she was to become.

Charlotte lowered the dress, smoothing her hand over the silky bodice. “I love this dress. It means everything to me. Truth, faith, miracles, family, love. It epitomizes who I am. The people I came from. So I sealed it up. Didn't even put it in the old wooden trunk. I thought it had finally arrived home, where it needed to be. Then I met you. How could I take such a blessing and hide it away, store it for another time when the time to be worn and used was now?” Her voice wavered. Her eyes glistened. “I was holding on to something that didn't really belong to me. I have to let it go.” She held the dress up to Haley again. “ ‘Freely you received, freely give.' To you from me and Jesus.”

Haley shivered with tears. Old sins took a lot of love to sink.

Dixie stepped into the mezzanine from the stairs. “Haley, I've
watched Charlotte over the years, and she's not lying about this dress. The torch is passing to you.”

“It's the Lord's way of showing you He loves you. Time to get off the bench of past mistakes and shame.”

Charlotte looked so comical, like a worn-out cheerleader not sure her lingo was on point. Haley laughed behind her hand.

“See, joy!”

“And your goofy metaphors, Char.” Dixie reached for Haley. “Come on, try it on.”

Haley reached for the gown, the soft, silky material rich against her skin. “Now? I'm not engaged.”

“Doesn't matter.” Charlotte bent to see her face. “Try it on? For me? I'm dying to be the one to pass it on now. I want to see how God fits on you.”

Haley could not deny her friend. “Fine, but if it fit you, Amazon woman, it's going to be too big for me.”

“You just wait and see, Mighty Mouse.”

In the storeroom, Haley shimmied from her shorts and top, stepping into the 104-year-old gown. The fabric flowed up her legs, the bodice slipping over her hips to sit perfectly on her waist as the skirt swirled around her legs, the hem stopping at the top of her toes.

Haley peeked out of the door. “All clear?”

“No men, they've gone on a food run.” Charlotte waved her out, her eyes glowing like polished gems. “Oh, Haley, oh, Haley . . .”

Charlotte ushered her to the wood-framed oval mirror, squaring her in front of it. Unlike when she tried on the Snow White gown, Haley loved her reflection. The gown made her look . . . pure. Whole. Healed.

“It's amazing,” she whispered with a giggle. “And it fits.”

“It's the gospel,” Charlotte said, working the buttons in the back. “It fits everyone who tries it on. The trick is to believe. There, all buttoned up.”

Haley turned across the mezzanine, the skirt moving freely about her legs, the silk so cool on her skin. “I feel amazing. I want to cry and laugh all at the same time.”

In the shop where she used to play make-believe, where she and Tammy made a pinky promise, where her heritage stayed hidden away for thirty-seven years, her life came full circle in this very real, very true experience.

Charlotte clasped her by the shoulders. “It's yours, Haley. I'm passing it on to you. Wear it on your wedding day with joy and grace and peace. But never box it up. Listen for God to tell you when to pass it on.”

Haley raised her pinky. “I promise.”

Charlotte hesitated, raising her hand and linking her pinky with Haley's.