been here a while. She’s in the storeroom with Maggie, getting ready to give us asneak preview of the gown. I can hardly wait. Feel my hands, they’re like ice,” Nora confessed, reaching out to Lucy.
Lucy touched Nora’s fingers. They were frigid, practically bloodless. Nora smiled nervously and Lucy forced herself to smile back. An odd feeling swept through her—a feeling totally out of synch with the bright, prenuptial mood.
Then they heard Maggie call out from the storeroom, “Here comes the bride, everyone.”
Lucy heard Suzanne gasp. “Oh, my God! She looks gorgeous. . . .”
They all turned at once to watch Rebecca emerge with Maggie following close behind, holding up the hem of Rebecca’s gown. Rebecca’s handmaiden and personal fashion designer was beaming almost as much as the bride. And with good reason. The gown was really beautiful. Extraordinary. Lucy had no idea it would come out so well when she’d seen the scattered pieces pinned to the dressmaker’s form last week. Or even when she looked at the pattern and photograph.
“Sweetheart, you look spectacular.” Nora trotted toward her daughter. “I know I’ve been a pain about you making the dress yourself. But I understand now. I honestly do. It’s just perfect for you.”
“It is perfect, Rebecca,” Lucy agreed. “You look incredible. Absolutely beautiful.”
“You should be very proud,” Dana added. “What a masterpiece. What an accomplishment.”
“Thanks but I couldn’t have done it without Maggie . . . and my mom,” Rebecca said modestly.
But she did look proud, Lucy noticed,as she should be. And greatly relieved. And a bit self-conscious as the center of so much attention. Good practice for her wedding day, which was coming up so quickly.
All eyes were on Rebecca as she reached the center of the room and stood up on a little step stool. The style complemented her figure perfectly, with a low, rounded neckline, form-fitting bodice, and nipped-in waistline, the finely knit ecru lace draping elegantly in the gored skirt.
The pieces were not completely sewn together yet, only basted, and she had to move carefully. Maggie and Nora helped her up on the stool and to balance on her brand-new silk high heels.
She was posed on the stool, her hand on Nora’s shoulder, while Maggie checked the hemline, when Lucy heard the front door of the shop open and someone walk in.
“Jeremy . . . what are you doing here?” Rebecca gripped her mother’s shoulder.
“You said to meet you here, remember?”
Rebecca’s fiancé was handsome, Lucy thought, in a Clark Kent way, with short, thick brown hair, a strong jaw, and black glasses that framed his bright blue eyes. He wore a blue down parka with a thick, colorful striped scarf looped around his neck. It definitely looked hand knit and Lucy guessed it was one of Rebecca’s creations.
Jeremy appeared to be in his midthirties, a few years older than Rebecca. But his nervous smile and intellectual air made him seem younger. He stared at them and waved awkwardly.
“Hello, ladies. I’m just the groom.Don’t mind me.”
The women laughed. All but Nora, who was trying to shield Rebecca from view. A fairly impossible feat, all things considered.
“Oh, dear . . . Jeremy. You shouldn’t see the bride in her gown before the wedding. It’s bad luck.”
The groom laughed. “Sorry, Nora. I forgot.”
Lucy sensed that even if he had remembered the traditional caution, like most scientists, he didn’t put much stock in superstitions.
He walked toward her smiling, but Rebecca didn’t smile back. “Jeremy . . . I said when we were done, after nine. It’s not even half past eight.”
He shrugged. “I actually forgot the time. I should have written it down.”
“I should have . . . and taped it to your nose.” But her scolding was delivered in a loving tone, Lucy had to say.
Nora still seemed upset about Jeremy seeing the gown and hovered around Rebecca. “Oh, don’t worry about
Lucy touched Nora’s fingers. They were frigid, practically bloodless. Nora smiled nervously and Lucy forced herself to smile back. An odd feeling swept through her—a feeling totally out of synch with the bright, prenuptial mood.
Then they heard Maggie call out from the storeroom, “Here comes the bride, everyone.”
Lucy heard Suzanne gasp. “Oh, my God! She looks gorgeous. . . .”
They all turned at once to watch Rebecca emerge with Maggie following close behind, holding up the hem of Rebecca’s gown. Rebecca’s handmaiden and personal fashion designer was beaming almost as much as the bride. And with good reason. The gown was really beautiful. Extraordinary. Lucy had no idea it would come out so well when she’d seen the scattered pieces pinned to the dressmaker’s form last week. Or even when she looked at the pattern and photograph.
“Sweetheart, you look spectacular.” Nora trotted toward her daughter. “I know I’ve been a pain about you making the dress yourself. But I understand now. I honestly do. It’s just perfect for you.”
“It is perfect, Rebecca,” Lucy agreed. “You look incredible. Absolutely beautiful.”
“You should be very proud,” Dana added. “What a masterpiece. What an accomplishment.”
“Thanks but I couldn’t have done it without Maggie . . . and my mom,” Rebecca said modestly.
But she did look proud, Lucy noticed,as she should be. And greatly relieved. And a bit self-conscious as the center of so much attention. Good practice for her wedding day, which was coming up so quickly.
All eyes were on Rebecca as she reached the center of the room and stood up on a little step stool. The style complemented her figure perfectly, with a low, rounded neckline, form-fitting bodice, and nipped-in waistline, the finely knit ecru lace draping elegantly in the gored skirt.
The pieces were not completely sewn together yet, only basted, and she had to move carefully. Maggie and Nora helped her up on the stool and to balance on her brand-new silk high heels.
She was posed on the stool, her hand on Nora’s shoulder, while Maggie checked the hemline, when Lucy heard the front door of the shop open and someone walk in.
“Jeremy . . . what are you doing here?” Rebecca gripped her mother’s shoulder.
“You said to meet you here, remember?”
Rebecca’s fiancé was handsome, Lucy thought, in a Clark Kent way, with short, thick brown hair, a strong jaw, and black glasses that framed his bright blue eyes. He wore a blue down parka with a thick, colorful striped scarf looped around his neck. It definitely looked hand knit and Lucy guessed it was one of Rebecca’s creations.
Jeremy appeared to be in his midthirties, a few years older than Rebecca. But his nervous smile and intellectual air made him seem younger. He stared at them and waved awkwardly.
“Hello, ladies. I’m just the groom.Don’t mind me.”
The women laughed. All but Nora, who was trying to shield Rebecca from view. A fairly impossible feat, all things considered.
“Oh, dear . . . Jeremy. You shouldn’t see the bride in her gown before the wedding. It’s bad luck.”
The groom laughed. “Sorry, Nora. I forgot.”
Lucy sensed that even if he had remembered the traditional caution, like most scientists, he didn’t put much stock in superstitions.
He walked toward her smiling, but Rebecca didn’t smile back. “Jeremy . . . I said when we were done, after nine. It’s not even half past eight.”
He shrugged. “I actually forgot the time. I should have written it down.”
“I should have . . . and taped it to your nose.” But her scolding was delivered in a loving tone, Lucy had to say.
Nora still seemed upset about Jeremy seeing the gown and hovered around Rebecca. “Oh, don’t worry about
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