The Wedding Shop

by Rachel Hauck

  “To a good day,” Odelia said. “Well done, Cora. I’m happy things are getting back to normal round here.”

  Mama sputtered a laugh, choking on her tea, pressing her fingers to her lips, shaking her head, listening to Odelia go on to complain her “dogs were barking” and she was heading on home.

  Cora and Mama ate a light supper in the apartment, enjoying their new stove and refrigerator, keeping the conversation light and away from the matter of the divorce.

  When they finished, Cora stood, clearing away the dishes. “I’ll clean up, Mama. You go rest.”

  “Thank you, darling. I do feel rather worn-out today. But we had a good one, didn’t we?”

  “We did.”

  As she set the dishes in the sink, a wild sob contorted her forward. “Daddy . . .”

  He wasn’t coming back. Her family was no more. Cora muffled her soft cry with the dish towel, resting against the wall. Mama must not see or hear.

  She collected herself enough to put away the corned beef, then snuck downstairs to the back porch.

  Along the dark horizon, the final glow of the sunset hung on but offered no warmth. Cora drew her sweater around her, the night chilly, winter not ready to let go.

  “Care for some company?” Birch peered through the screen on the far side of the porch.

  “Please, please, come in.” She stood as he entered, removing his hat, kissing her on the cheek. “What are you doing here?”

  “Came to see how the reopen went.” Birch took the chair next to hers, setting his hat on his knee. “Nice night.”

  “Beautiful.”

  “So, you had a good day?”

  “The reopening was a success. I’m very pleased. How was your day?”

  “Started the plowing with the new tractor. Uncle Sam’s glad he can rest in the barn.”

  “He’s been a good ole mule, Uncle Sam.”

  “A partner, really. Where would we be without him?”

  She peeked at Birch. He was a handsome man with his hair smoothed back and the spring sun coloring his cheeks a pale red. “Daddy served Mama divorce papers.”

  “Cora, no . . .” He leaned forward, arms on his legs, slapping his hat between his hands. “I’m so sorry. How’s Esmé?”

  “She says fine. Apparently Daddy had already written to her about it.” Cora glanced at her hands folded in her lap. “Makes me wonder if there is such a thing as true love.”

  “Right here, darling. Look right at me.” He reached for her hand, pulling her to her feet, smoothing his hand around her waist. His breath was sweet and hot on her skin. “I love you, truly. If you marry me, I’ll not leave you. Divorce won’t be an option.”

  Cora weakened in his embrace. “Oh, Birch, you are so good to me.” She pressed her hand to his cheek. “Handsome and fine.”

  “Then marry me, Cora. Marry me.”

  “I want to say yes, I do. But—”

  “But what? There’s nothing stopping you but your own fears. Is it Rufus? Do you still love him?”

  “No, it’s not Rufus. I-I just don’t know if I want to live on a farm, Birch. I’m a town girl, a shop owner.”

  “I’m not asking you to give that up.” Birch touched her chin with the edge of his finger. “I’ve been asking you to marry me since the fire. But I’ve been waiting for, well, since I can remember. Won’t you be my wife?”

  “Birch . . .” She walked toward the screen, gazing toward the park. The town was dark at this late hour. Almost nine o’clock. The streets were quiet, deserted. But the roads to Cora’s heart were clogged, stuffed with the ambient noise of her past, of the impending divorce. “I’m not sure I feel for you as a girl ought when she gets married. Besides, I can’t leave Mama right now. Not with Daddy divorcing her.”

  He caught her in his arms again. “I can love us enough for the both of us. And we can be there for your mama together. She can move out to the farm. I’ll give her a big plot of land for her gardens.”

  “She won’t want to live with us if we’re just married.”

  “Then she can mind the shop. Live on the third floor. Come out to the farm whenever she wants. I’ll still give her all the ground she wants to work her gardens. We’ll have Sunday dinners together. Play checkers by the fire, listen to the radio.” He released her but stood by her, gazing toward the park. “Truth is, Wade and I’ve been talking about building a little one-room place on the other side of the cornfield. She could live there. Even have her own driveway.”

  “She doesn’t drive.”

  “We could teach her.”

  Cora laughed. “Do you hate your fellow Heart’s Bendians? Mama would be a terror behind the wheel.” She smoothed her hand over his chest and down his arm. “What did we do to deserve you, Birch Good?”

  “Love has a way of fortifying a man’s heart. And I love you, Cora.”

  She pressed her hand to his chest. “I just don’t know . . .”

  He raised her gaze to his, the porch light falling between them. “Just say yes. What’s to not know? Cora, I’ve given you room, like you asked, when you was hurting from Rufus. Then when the shop was under construction after the fire. But time’s marching on and I’m weary of standing still.”

  “Did I ask you to stand still for me?”

  “Yes, by not telling me out and out, ‘No, I won’t marry you, Birch.’ ”

  “Did I know Mama would be going through a hard time?” She folded her arms and lowered her voice. “A divorce. Think of the scandal.”

  “I hate to remind you, Cora, but your mama’s been going through a hard time and scandal for over a year. You know I would never stand in the way of you being there for her. I’ll come alongside, help, do all I can. Aren’t two better than one? You led me to believe, given time, you’d consider me. It’s been months. I need an answer.”

  “Are you giving me an ultimatum?”

  “I’ve been patient, Cora.”

  She walked back to her rocker, sitting down hard, the light from the lamp cutting a swath through the growing night. “How do I know I’m not making another foolish decision? That I’m not inclined to marry you just because another man broke my heart?”

  “If you want an honest answer, you’d be a fool not to marry me. Times are hard. Men all over these parts are losing their farms. Not me. My farm’s not mortgaged. I ain’t in any debt. I got some money set aside, not in the bank, mind you, but I have a good bit put back. I got a cellar full of canned vegetables and fruit. The house don’t have electricity or plumbing, but I’ll get a generator if you marry me. We’ve always been real warm in winter and cool in the summer what with the elms standing so tall. Well, you know, you been to my house a hundred times. You can make it your own, Cora. New paint, new wallpaper. The stove is from before the war, but I’ll buy you a new one. And a refrigerator. Like the ones here in the shop. How’d you like that?”

  “Birch, you want me to say yes? How will that play out, hmmm? Me running upstairs to say to my mama, ‘Sorry Daddy’s divorcing you but I’m a-marrying Birch!’ ”

  “Fair enough, fair enough. I’ll give you time to tell her,” he said, reaching for her again, pulling her out of the chair and into him, the scent of God’s green earth on his skin. His eyes, like the summer sky, searched hers. “Say yes and it’ll be our secret until you feel right to tell Esmé. I just want to hear you say you’ll marry me. I’ll give you a man’s loving, Cora. Trust me.”

  She quivered at his intimate confession. “Give me time, Birch. Let me tell Mama, and then I’ll say yes.”

  He released her. “All right. How long do you think it will take?”

  “A month? I-I don’t know. I can’t put a time limit on Mama’s pain.”

  “But you can on your deliberations. If you don’t want to marry me, just say so. Otherwise, you’re doing me like Rufus did you. Fooling with my affections. Keeping me around for your own needs.”

  “I am not. Birch Good, how dare you!”

  “But I’m not far off, am I?
Cora . . .” His tone wooed her as his lips brushed her neck with a feathery touch.

  “Birch—”

  “I love you. I want you. Don’t you have any of the same feelings for me?”

  “Some, yes, but oh, stop, you’re confusing me.”

  “I’m not confusing you. You’re just resisting. I have no doubt we will be the best of lovers.” Birch took another step into her, weakening her resolve with passionate shivers, finding no desire to escape. Mercy . . . Birch. He’d never shown her this side before. He raised her hand to his chest. “My heart’s a-beating.”

  So was hers. “Birch, no, behave yourself.” She shoved him aside, gasping, steadying her own rapid pulse.

  But he turned her to him, his lips finding hers without pretense, without expectation. Just giving her everything in his heart. She held her stiff arms against his chest as his hand tightened around her back, but after a moment, when his kiss deepened, she let go, wrapping her arms about him, surrendering to the power of his persuasion.

  Birch, Birch. She gasped for air when he broke away, stepping back, setting his hat on his wild, dark hair. The sensation of fire running under her skin made her want to reach for him again.

  “Just so you know . . .” His voice broke with a laugh. “There’s plenty more where that came from, Cora.” He pushed through the screen door and off the porch. “When you make up your mind, come find me. I hope you say yes.”

  Cora pressed her face against the screen, watching him go, her pulse still ablaze, her heart exploding. He’d awakened a passion in her, a strange, fiery kind that even Rufus did not ignite. Instead of feeling alone and empty, she felt full and loved.

  She sank into her chair, clinging to the arms, her yes lingering on the tip of her tongue. He was a good man. A kind man. God-fearing. Was it possible? Could it be?

  She was in love with Birch Good?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  HALEY

  February 10

  She sat on the stairs, phone pressed to her ear, fingers pressed to her forehead. “I understand. Thank you. Okay . . . I will.” She hung up, dropping the phone beside her on the step.

  The city hall was confused about the status of her permits and it was the second week of February.

  Glancing toward the ceiling, Haley made an appeal to heaven for help, for favor. Since that day in Charlotte’s shop, she’d found a bit of freedom, her confidence in the God of her youth returning.

  Prayer came more quickly. Not vacant words to a God she wasn’t sure listened, but hope-filled words to a God who would never forsake her.

  Last week she went to church for the first time since before Dax. Looking back, she could see he was just the end of a long, slow slide away from everything she believed in. She let life obliterate her truth and values.

  Well, back to the shop. Nothing was going on with the renovation because the permits were lost in red tape.

  But yesterday she joined the Downtown Business Owners Association. Afterward she met with Emma Branson and Taylor Gillingham at Ella’s about the wedding chapel on River Road to see if they could partner up. Taylor’s husband was in advertising and Haley hoped he could offer some help. Pro bono.

  “I’m the mother of his child. He’ll do what I ask,” Taylor informed her with a sneaky laugh.

  Haley had also written out a plan to involve local businesses on her opening day, which was tentatively scheduled for June 15. If she could get enough inventory. Turns out renovations were cake compared to getting the inventory she wanted.

  Using Charlotte’s contacts, she’d called a few designers in New York and one in Atlanta to see about consigning inventory for an opening-day trunk show, but they all but laughed at her. Polite silk-and-tulle laughter, of course.

  “We’re booked this season. Maybe next May. Call us in the fall to set it up.”

  Haley closed her eyes, tipping her head toward the ceiling, trying to listen with her spirit. What should she do?

  “Lord, if this shop is not what I’m supposed to do, make it clear. If You don’t want it, I don’t want it.”

  Haley relished in a peaceful repose, not thinking of anything, half listening to what God might say, half drifting to sleep, when the shop door eased open.

  An older woman with tender lines marking her face stepped inside, her fur-lined coat buttoned to her chin.

  “Are you Haley?”

  “I am. Can I help you?”

  She gripped her gloved hands at her waist. “I’m Mrs. Elliot. Lenora Elliot.”

  “Welcome to The Wedding Shop. Well, what I hope will be The Wedding Shop.”

  “I’ve been here before.”

  “You bought your dress here? From Cora?”

  “Indeed I did. Sixty years ago. Walked down those wide stairs.” She moved to the base of the steps without faltering, her countenance strong, her gaze fixed toward the mezzanine. “My mother and mother-in-law sat right over here along with my sisters and best friend.” She pointed to the large salon. “It was springtime, but winter’s chill was still in the air. The shop was so cozy and warm with wedding talk, hot tea, and music. We all cried when I descended the stairs. I wore a white dress with a full tea-length skirt and a sweetheart neckline, and a simple veil, but wasn’t I princess for the day? A southern Jackie O. Miss Cora suggested the most lovely suit for my going-away outfit. We couldn’t afford both so she gave me what had to be a very generous discount.”

  “I hear she did that a lot with her customers.”

  “A finer woman never lived. She threw in some lovely jewelry too. Of course it wasn’t anything expensive, costume stuff, but I’d have had nothing otherwise. She made me the beautiful bride I always wanted to be.”

  “Do you live in Heart’s Bend, Mrs. Elliot?”

  “I did the first year of marriage, but then I moved to Los Angeles with my husband. We raised our family there. Bean died a week ago.” Her hazel eyes misted. “He wanted to come home to be buried.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “I loved that man for sixty-five years. Sixty of them married. We had four children—two boys, two girls. I wanted to bring my girls here for their trousseaus, you know, pay Miss Cora back for her kindness to me, but she’d closed the shop by the time they married.” The woman’s eyes glistened as she raised her gaze to Haley. “Of course, they were modern California girls who had their own ideas of what to wear for their wedding. Couldn’t interest them in my fifties-style gown. Now my granddaughters are clamoring for it. Calling it ‘classic vintage.’ ” Mrs. Elliot reached for Haley, pressing a piece of paper into her palm. “I heard someone was reopening the shop and I just want to say good luck with your plans. God bless you.”

  “Thank you.” Haley glanced down to find a folded check. “Mrs. Elliot, please, I can’t take your money.”

  “You can and you will.” She raised her chin, pointing a long manicured finger at Haley. “I want to bring my granddaughters here in a few years.” She paused at the door. “Such a lovely, splendid place with so many brides as its heritage.”

  “But you don’t even know me.” She offered back the check. “How can you trust me with your money?”

  Mrs. Elliot closed her hand over Haley’s. “The moment I heard someone was opening the shop, my heart leapt in my chest. I knew I was to help. Just knew it. Bring this place back to life, let it be the darling of Heart’s Bend again.”

  “Thank you. I won’t let you down.” Haley slipped the check into her pocket.

  Mrs. Elliot toured the shop one more time, describing the old grandfather clock, the wide gold divan, the plush chairs, the china tea service, the light and aura of the shop. Then she made her way to the front door. “I hope to see you soon with my granddaughters.”

  Haley drew her into a gentle hug. “I would love that, Mrs. Elliot. And thank you again. It means everything to me.”

  Alone in the shop, Haley retrieved the check from her pocket. She dropped against the banister as she read the amount.


  Ten thousand dollars. Ten. Thousand. Dollars.

  She couldn’t. Just couldn’t take this amount of money. “Mrs. Elliot.” Haley called to her from the front door, then raced to the curb, but Mrs. Elliot had already gone.

  Back inside, she sat on the steps and glanced at the check. Great. No address. Just her name.

  Well, okay. Then she’d take it. She didn’t feel worthy of this generosity, but as she waved the check toward heaven, gratitude spilled into her soul. “Thank you.”

  “Haley?” Cole stepped inside, joining her on the bottom step. “I was just at city hall to check on the permits.”

  She glanced up at him. “You don’t have to do that. I’m calling them every day.”

  “I thought I’d add my muscle.” He sat forward, arms resting on his legs.

  “Really?” She squeezed his arm. “Do you have any to spare?”

  “Ha-ha, such a funny girl.” He slipped from his jacket and popped his bicep, letting it strain against his shirtsleeve. “I can spare a few inches.”

  “I’ll take all the help I can get.”

  He rubbed his hands together, slipping back into his jacket. The shop was cold with no heat running. “Not doing anything is driving me crazy. Did I tell you I saw Brant Jackson in Linus Peabody’s office? And I saw them together at Java Jane’s, scheming. If those two are in cahoots . . .”

  “Cole, look.” Haley handed him the check. “Another of Cora’s brides stopped by. She gave me this. I’m halfway to our reno budget.”

  He snatched the check from her hand. “She walked in and handed you ten thousand dollars?”

  “She reminisced first, then she handed me ten thousand dollars.”

  Cole’s grin slipped wide. “Haley, someone is watching out for you. I don’t want you to doubt ever again.”

  “Not someone.” Haley took the check, tucking it into her pocket, a smile burning in her gut. “God is watching out for me.”

  “All right, God is watching out for you.” Cole stood, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets. Jeans that fit all too nicely. Had he always been so good-looking? Hard to tell since she was always looking at him through Tammy’s lens.