The Dream Dress

by Janice Thompson

  “Nearly every decision I’ve made over the past few years has been with him in mind. If I’ve been Cinderella, then he’s been the evil stepmother.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning, I’ve made every decision wondering if he would flip out.” I paused and thought about it. “I can’t imagine what it will be like not to have to worry about that anymore.”

  “Pretty freeing, I would say.”

  “A lot of things are freeing now,” I said. “And that’s a good thing.”

  “A very good thing. The only thing that’s not free is your time, and I’m a little bummed about that. I was hoping to take you out to an early dinner tonight. Maybe spend the afternoon together before going to a restaurant.”

  “Aw, I’m sorry. But you’re welcome to hang out with me while I work and then stay for dinner. Mimi Carmen’s got tamales started in the kitchen.”

  “I’d love that. Tamales sound great.”

  “Well, FYI, she’s having someone over for dinner tonight. It’s a big secret, but I’ve got it figured out.”

  “Are you telling me she has a date?” When I nodded, he lowered his voice to say, “Daniel?”

  “Yep. He’s coming by at seven. But in the meantime, prepare yourself for some noise. We’ve got a toddler in the house.”

  “A toddler?”

  “Bella’s little girl, Rosa-Earline. Mimi calls her Rosie. She’s in the kitchen in her little . . . whatever you call that thing she sits in. She’ll be here until 6:30. Bella’s got an appointment this afternoon and didn’t have anyone to watch her. Mimi is in her element, I think.”

  “And your mother? How’s she taking it?”

  “Mama’s at work. Those Splendora Sisters are keeping her busy these days. Apparently they’ve got quite a few scheduling issues for their upcoming tour.”

  “I can’t even imagine touring with them, can you?” He tilted his head back and laughed. “The hair spray alone would be my undoing. A man could choke to death with that much spray in the air. Put a hole in the ozone layer.”

  We had a good laugh at that image. Still, I couldn’t help but think that my mother would fit right in with those gals and their eccentricities. They would be good for her.

  “You need some help with Nicolette’s dress?” Jordan’s words interrupted my thoughts.

  “You have no idea. Do you mind?”

  He shook his head. “I told you, I’m a whiz with fabrics. Just live and learn from the master.”

  Turned out his cutting skills were really good. He said it had something to do with clipping all of his articles from the pages of various magazines and newspapers over the years. Regardless, I led him to my sewing room and put him to work on the pattern pieces. He kept me in stitches—laughing—as we worked side by side. The afternoon passed, and I found myself cocooned in a sweet sort of contentment I’d never felt while working. Certainly not while working for Demetri.

  Jordan spent much of the afternoon in a state of playful bantering, doing anything he could to make me smile. Oh, how I loved hanging out with him. Did he realize how much?

  “Where did you come from?” I asked at one point.

  He glanced up from the pattern pieces to answer. “New York. My whole family’s from Long Island.”

  “No. Where did you come from? As in, what planet? What fairy tale? You’re not like any other guy I’ve known.”

  This got a panicked look from him. “I hope that’s a good thing. I’m all guy, trust me. Don’t let that earlier comment about laces and trims fool you.”

  “Ha! I don’t mean it like that. I’m just saying that you’re so good at talking to me about, well, all sorts of things. You make me really . . . comfortable.”

  “It’s a gift. What can I say? Besides, I love spending time with you, doing . . .” He gestured to the fabrics scattered around the room. “This.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Yes. It’s the best date I’ve ever been on. One I’ll never forget.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.” I brushed a loose hair out of my face and stared at him to see if he was joking. “Cutting out pattern pieces is the best date you’ve been on?”

  “It is.” Jordan walked my way, pattern pieces floating through the air and landing on the hardwood floor. When he reached for my hand, I gave it willingly, then allowed myself to be swept into his arms. Jordan pressed a couple of tiny kisses onto the end of my nose. “It’s perfect because you’re here.”

  “I think I get it now,” I whispered. “Why Ginger was so comfortable in Fred’s arms.”

  “Oh?” Jordan’s lips traveled up my cheek. “Why is that?”

  “They were a perfect fit.”

  “A perfect fit, eh?”

  Tilting my head back, I peered at his face—that gorgeous, sweet expression, half playful, half serious. I leaned lightly into him, tipping my face toward his. As his lips met mine, I was lost in the beauty of the moment. When the kiss ended, we lingered in one another’s arms.

  “So, let’s get to the bottom of this,” Jordan said after a few seconds of blissful silence.

  “This . . . what?”

  He pointed to the poster on my wall. “Your fascination with Ginger Rogers. Where did it come from, anyway?”

  “Ah.” I paused, not sure if I really wanted to explain. “I don’t have many great memories of my dad,” I said after a bit of awkward silence. “But I do have a pretty vivid memory of him taking me to the old Marquee Theater when I was a kid to see a Fred Astaire–Ginger Rogers movie. Top Hat, I think.”

  “I always loved that movie.”

  “Me too. Might sound weird, but remembering that my dad actually cared enough about me to take me to the theater to see them dance on the big screen has brought me some comfort.” I shrugged. “I know it’s crazy, but maybe I feel like Fred and Ginger link me to my dad in some way.”

  “Have you thought about trying to get in touch with him?” Jordan’s expression reflected gentle understanding and concern.

  “Oh, I hear from him a couple of times a year. Usually when he’s had too much to drink or wants me to invest in one of his many network marketing schemes.” A little sigh worked its way out. “It’s silly to think that a movie—or an actor—could take me back to a pleasant childhood memory, but Fred and Ginger just have that power.”

  “Well, let God use that memory of your dad—the one in the theater—to heal you from whatever pain you might have to struggle through related to your dad. And remember, God’s a much better dancing partner.”

  “Yes, but does he have the keys to the Marquee Theater?” I quirked a brow.

  “He has the keys to the kingdom. I would imagine the Marquee Theater would be small potatoes in comparison.”

  “True, true.” Though I really had no clue what the whole “keys to the kingdom” comment meant. Still, I could picture God standing there with a huge ring of keys in his hand.

  Keys.

  The sermon about forgiveness surfaced again, and I thought about Scarlet’s comment about forgiving my father. Setting him—and myself—free from prison.

  Weird.

  “Anyway, I’m glad you explained the Ginger and Fred thing to me.” Jordan’s words interrupted my thoughts. “And you’re right. They were the perfect fit. Comfortable. But . . .” He traced my cheek with his fingertip. “If we’re being perfectly honest, on the inside I’m a nervous wreck when I’m around you.”

  “You are?” This certainly took me by surprise.

  “Mm-hmm.” He brushed his lips against my cheek. “You know that feeling you get when you’re cutting into a brand-new yard of expensive fabric?”

  I nodded but couldn’t speak, what with the tingles running all the way from my head to my toes.

  “Well, that’s the same feeling I get when I’m thinking about kissing you. I’m so excited I can hardly wait. But I’m also a little scared.”

  “Of what?” My words came out as a whisper.

  “Of messing things up
. Of moving too fast. Of scaring you away.”

  “You’re not going to scare me away, Jordan,” I said. I wanted to add, “So shut up and kiss me already,” but I didn’t have to. His lips met mine for the most passionate kiss yet.

  I remained in his arms, my heart thumping as never before. Well, until Mimi Carmen cleared her throat behind us. “Sorry, folks, but there’s a little girl crying in the living room and I can’t get her to calm down.”

  I felt my cheeks grow warm, so I took a step back and turned to her as if nothing were out of the ordinary. “Give her to Jordan,” I said and winked at him. “He has a gift with toddlers.”

  Turned out he did have a gift with toddlers. Little Rosie was all smiles after just a couple of minutes in his welcoming arms. By the time Bella arrived at 6:30, her daughter and Jordan were both sleeping soundly on the couch, with Mimi Carmen watching her prerecorded show from the recliner. While putting on . . . makeup? No way! Mimi rarely wore the stuff. But sure enough, I caught her in the act of dabbing on lipstick and powdering her cheeks. She shoved the makeup bag into the seat and rose when Bella entered the room.

  Bella took one look at the snoozing duo on the sofa and grinned. “What have we here?” she asked.

  I brushed a loose hair from my face and smiled. “He has a gift with small children, apparently.”

  “And he’s sharing it with us.” Bella smiled as she gazed down at the two of them. “That’s very generous.”

  She lifted Rosa-Earline from Jordan’s arms, and he stirred. One eye opened to a slit, and the most delicious smile lit his face. “I was teaching her how to rest,” he said. “She’s a fast learner.”

  “Mm-hmm.” Bella nuzzled her daughter’s cheek against hers. “I hope she didn’t rest so long that she stays up all night.”

  “Nah. We’ve only been sleeping . . .” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “Two hours?” At this revelation he looked panicked.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “I got a lot done while you were sleeping.”

  We spent the next few minutes chatting with Bella. She left around 6:45, just as Mama came in the door from work. Daniel arrived about five minutes after that. Not that he managed to get a word in edgewise. Turned out Mama was in a talkative mood, having spent the afternoon with the Splendora Sisters.

  “They’re going to have the trip of a lifetime,” she explained. “I booked it today.”

  We gathered in our little dining room around the table, which came alive with conversation. Daniel and Mimi discussed the music at church, offering their opinions on contemporary music. Jordan tried to chime in a time or two but happened to be on the opposing team, since he enjoyed the drums and all. Mama was like Switzerland—she remained neutral. Well, either that or she was enjoying her tamales.

  When we finished eating, Mimi headed into the kitchen to fetch the tres leches cake.

  Jordan cleared his throat. “I have an announcement to make.”

  “An announcement?” Mama’s eyes lit up, and I knew she expected him to drop to one knee right then and there. Instead, he took my hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’ve signed us up to take dancing lessons.”

  “Say what?” I must’ve misunderstood.

  “Ballroom.” A masculine laugh followed. “And yes, I’m serious. I’ve been thinking about your fascination with Fred and Ginger and decided that I needed to get inspired.”

  “But I told you . . . I have two left feet.”

  “Maybe Ginger did at one time too.” He continued to hold my hand. “Gabi, when you want something bad enough, you work hard to get it. I’m . . .” His cheeks flushed. “I’m trying to woo you, okay?”

  “Well, if that isn’t the sweetest thing ever,” Mimi said as she entered the room with the cake in hand. “Just remember, Prince Charming, she turns into a pumpkin at midnight.”

  This got a laugh out of Daniel, who rose to help Mimi put the cake down.

  “Doubtful.” Jordan gave me a funny look. “Though I’m trying to imagine what you’d look like in bright orange. As round as a ball.”

  “On the ballroom dance floor? Pretty comedic. And I’m going to be as round as a ball if I keep eating like this.”

  “Me too.” He rubbed his belly and laughed.

  “But I’ll take your dance lessons. Just let me know when we start, okay?”

  “The class starts in mid-November. You’ll have these two wedding dresses behind you by then.”

  “Okay, okay.” I grabbed the knife and cut a slice of the cake. “Better go ahead and get some shin guards now, though. And some steel-toed boots to protect your feet.”

  “Duly noted. I shall shop tomorrow. Oh, and by the way, the reason I’ve signed us up to take ballroom lessons is because we’re going to be in the audience when Dancing with the Stars comes to Galveston in December. They’re on tour, and you-know-who is making a guest appearance.”

  “B-B-Brock Benson?” My mother dropped her fork, and it clattered to the table.

  “Yep. He and Cheryl Burke are dancing together, and we’ll be the first in line to see them. I have connections, being in the publishing biz and all.” He squared his shoulders. “I got us tickets.” Jordan gestured to the group at the table. “Actually, I got a handful of tickets, so I think we’re all good to go, if that sounds all right with you ladies.”

  The squeals that followed were deafening. Daniel didn’t appear to know who Brock Benson was, so I explained. “He’s a big superstar. He starred in several pirate movies.”

  “I haven’t been to a movie theater since 2002 when my wife passed.” Daniel took a bite of his cake.

  “We’ll have to remedy that,” Mimi said. “Trust me, we see every movie that Brock Benson makes.”

  She didn’t bother to mention that we usually rented them instead of going to the theater. These days fitting in the seat at the movie theater presented a challenge for Mimi. Then again, if she kept eating like she did tonight—only one tamale and a teensy-tiny sliver of cake—a trip to the movies might not be out of the question before long.

  “Brock came to the island last Christmas for Dickens on the Strand,” Jordan explained. “He was the grand marshal of the parade. They tried to get him to come back this year, but he’s too busy. His wife just had a baby.”

  “Oh, I had no idea.”

  “Brock has been nominated for an Academy Award, and his wife will need a new dress, one that will be seen by thousands of people. What do you think?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Sure am. I have no doubt Bella could arrange it. Just say the word.”

  “I-I would be honored.”

  “Think of the thousands—no, millions—of people who will see it. Perfect promotion for your business.”

  I thought about his words as we nibbled on our cake. Man. What was up with all of the lucky breaks lately? I’d caught a thousand lucky stars. First Scarlet’s aunt decided to name a cake after me. Then Bella agreed to put me at the top of her vendors list. Now Brock Benson’s wife might wear one of my gowns on television? How did I get to be so lucky?

  Then again, maybe it had nothing to do with luck. Maybe it had a little something to do with prayer. I’d been doing a lot of praying lately.

  When we finished our cake and coffee, I offered to do the dishes so that Mimi and Daniel could have some time together in the living room. Mama seemed content to slip off to her room to read a book. Jordan tagged along on my heels to the kitchen, where he helped load the dishwasher. Just as I closed the door, he took the dishcloth from my hands and set it on the counter.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked.

  “Mm-hmm. It is now. I’ve just been dying to kiss you ever since you agreed to take ballroom lessons with me.” He pressed a tiny kiss onto the tip of my nose.

  “I still can’t believe you did that.”

  “I can’t either, to be honest. Very out of character for me. But when I’m around you, I just lose all control of my senses.” Another kiss followed, this one on my cheek.
“You make me do things I wouldn’t ordinarily do, Gabi. I’m starting to think you’ve cast some sort of spell on me.”

  I was pretty sure it was the other way around, but didn’t say so. Instead, I grinned and said, “It’s my fairy godmother. That’s what I pay her to do.”

  “Then she’s mighty good at it. You might want to give her a raise.”

  I’d just started to explain that I couldn’t possibly do that now that I didn’t have a job, but I never had the chance. Jordan slipped his arms around my waist and drew me closer. My arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, and I leaned into him as he gave me a kiss I wouldn’t soon forget.

  In that moment, I thought back to what he’d said earlier: “Best date ever!”

  Right now, with the handsomest fella on Galveston Island sweeping me off my feet, I had to agree.

  Lady in the Dark

  Ginger Rogers was, as a partner, a faithful reflection of everything that Astaire intended. She could even shed her own light.

  Arlene Croce

  The next few weeks sped by at whirlwind pace. Somewhere between the designing, cutting, sewing, and fitting, I managed to sneak in some precious time with Jordan. I also met with Bella to get the ball rolling on the new Vendors Square at Club Wed. Already the calls were pouring in from brides looking for one-of-a-kind specialty dresses. Looked like my dance card was filling up rapidly.

  On the weekend before Scarlet’s wedding, Bella threw a party for the bridesmaids. A slumber party, no less. On a personal level, I had a lot to celebrate—the successful completion of Scarlet’s dress and the paycheck I’d received upon finishing Nicolette’s gown as well. Getting those two dresses behind me had changed my entire perspective on life. Now I had the confidence to move forward with my line: Gabriella’s.

  Not tonight, however. No, tonight was all about partying with the girls.

  “Aunt Rosa and Uncle Laz are in New York filming an episode with Bobby Flay,” Bella explained as we arrived at the Rossi home. “So we’ve got their suite upstairs to ourselves.”

  She was wrong about that. We’d no sooner eaten our pizza and settled in to play a game when Rosa and Laz entered the foyer, yawning.