The Second Yes

by Amanda Tru

  “Of course not!” Rhonda answered, seeming shocked that TeraLyn would even ask. “The poor girl was practically on her deathbed! I wouldn’t bother her about something little like that.”

  “What dress?” London asked.

  Then she caught TeraLyn’s wide eyes as the younger woman silently mouthed, “She knows!”

  London’s heart leaped, and her mind raced, wondering exactly which one of London’s recent undercover efforts Rhonda had discovered and exactly how much she actually knew.

  “Oh, it’s nothing big,” Rhonda assured, patting London’s shoulder affectionately. “Kelli’s mom called me late last night to say the dress had arrived, but it was the wrong dress! Somehow that plain little tea-length dress got shipped instead of the beautiful one they’d selected. Of course, it’s too late to do anything about it now. The wedding is on Friday evening at sunset. I offered to overnight the package, but with their location, the postal service cannot guarantee its arrival in time.”

  I knew I wouldn’t get away with that one.

  She just didn’t know if she felt up to dealing with the consequences at the moment. “Is Kelli upset?” she asked carefully.

  “Kelli’s mother is beside herself,” Rhonda answered instead. “She is extremely upset and demanding a full refund.”

  “But Kelli won’t allow it,” TeraLyn reported, her eyes gleaming. “Kelli says that even if her mom orders the other dress and it arrives in time, she will refuse to wear it. The tea-length dress is the one she wanted, and she is thrilled.”

  “I just don’t understand how that could have happened,” Rhonda said thoughtfully. “I made the alterations and boxed up the other gown myself. The other dress was still hanging on the rack. Then I gave it to TeraLyn to mail.”

  “I mailed it for TeraLyn,” London admitted firmly. “I’m the one responsible.”

  “She had some other packages to mail that day,” TeraLyn rushed to explain. “She offered to mail it, and I let her.”

  A gleam lit Rhonda’s eyes.

  Determined to make a full confession, London started, “Rhonda, I’m the one who—”

  TeraLyn’s eyes widened, and she frantically shook her head, urging London to abort her confession.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Rhonda said, interrupting before London could make it to the end of her sentence. “There’s no harm done. The bride is happy even if the mother isn’t. I don’t need to know the details. How and why doesn’t change a single thing. Mistakes happen. Let’s just let it go at that.”

  While TeraLyn looked like they’d just avoided a major accident, London stared at Rhonda in complete shock. This wasn’t like Rhonda. The woman excelled at knowing every little bit of information about everyone and everything. Now she was saying she didn’t want to know how or why London sent Rhonda’s client the wrong dress? This didn’t make sense.

  The bell above the door jingled, shifting Rhonda’s attention.

  “Oh, good!” she gushed. “You’re here to finalize your order?”

  “Yes,” the young blonde said. “I have all of the bridesmaids’ measurements, but they won’t arrive for the final fitting until right before the wedding.”

  “That’s fine,” Rhonda said, bustling up to the desk. “With the measurements, we can get the right sizes ordered. These dresses are the highest quality and true to size. They shouldn’t require any alterations. Your bridesmaids can try them on when you all come in to pick them up.”

  Seeing Rhonda would be busy for the next few minutes, London whispered, “Hey, TeraLyn, can you help me with something?”

  “Sure,” TeraLyn answered quietly, understanding that London didn’t want Rhonda overhearing. “What do you need?”

  “Part of why I needed to come in today is to work on arrangements for one of my celebrity clients,” London explained, showing TeraLyn a sketch of a beautiful gown. “I’m finishing one dress, and I need to start with this other one for this celebrity wedding. The problem is that she wants a private wedding with no media coverage, but she wants it in the states. Her tastes are move for aa classic wedding as opposed to an exotic destination wedding. She asked if I had any ideas, and I thought of you. I wondered if you knew of a place, either locally or in Brighton Falls, that could handle a discreet but beautiful outdoor wedding.”

  TeraLyn’s eyes glowed with excitement. “Yes, I do know of a place. It isn’t a classic wedding venue, but the owner is interested in going that direction. It’s beautiful and perfect. No one even knows about it.”

  “Where is it?” London asked, hopefully.

  “Do you know Celeste Davenport?” TeraLyn asked. “Her family owns a ranch outside of Crossroads. She’s taken over all of the operations and would like to turn part of the place into a private wedding venue.”

  “I’ve heard the name,” London said. “I think Brooke is friends with Celeste. And you think her ranch is pretty enough?”

  “Oh, yes!” TeraLyn assured, her face taking on a rosy glow. “Celeste knows my interest in wedding planning and gave me the full tour. She already made most of the basic preparations. She has a gazebo right by a beautiful little lake. And the flowers and landscaping are breathtaking. She was planning to open next year because she still needs to save money to buy some chairs and tables, but if we can provide those, then it’s completely ready.”

  “Give me Celeste’s info, and I will put my client in contact with her.” London looked at TeraLyn thoughtfully. “The wedding is not for a few weeks, but in terms of wedding planning, there’s a lot to handle. As a general rule, a lot of celebrities like a short planning window since it means less of a chance for information leaking out. My client will probably need a local wedding planner to make all of the arrangements, including chairs, tables, food, cake, and decorations. I don’t suppose you’d be interested in the job?”

  “Are you serious?” TeraLyn gasped.

  “Very,” London answered. “The only other local wedding planner I know is the one who planned Ashley Claybourne’s wedding. After the food poisoning fiasco, I think there might be a big opening for a new wedding planner in the area.”

  “I can do it!” TeraLyn said excitedly, surprising London with her confidence and enthusiasm.

  “This is pretty big, TeraLyn,” London warned. “If I recommend you, I’m putting my reputation on the line as well. I’m willing to help how ever I can, but this is a big project. If you do well, it will put you on the map and launch you instantly into premier wedding planner status.”

  “I won’t disappoint you, London! I promise,” TeraLyn assured, hopping up and down just a little in her excitement. “I’ve been studying this for years. I’ve just never had a chance before. I know I can do it!”

  London smiled. “I know you can, too! I’ll have my client give you a call today. Let me know if you run into any problems or need my help.”

  TeraLyn nodded eagerly. “I know I’ll want to see the wedding dress. The ceremony will need to match the dress.”

  “Good girl!” London said. “You can see the basic design right here in my sketchbook. I need to get final approval before I start on it tonight. As soon as I get the ‘Butterfly Dress’ shipped off, that one is next on my list.”

  “’The Butterfly Dress?’” TeraLyn echoed.

  “Yes, that’s the one I told you about. The client’s mother is terminal, and she wants to have the wedding her mother planned for her before she dies. Remember the box of old drawings? She wanted me to design her dress based on her mother’s plans from the box.”

  “You’re done with it? I want to see it,” TeraLyn urged eagerly.

  London stood and walked over to where she’d placed the bag she’d carried in when she arrived. “I’ve been working on it while I’ve been sick. I think I’m done, but I need to go through the box one more time to make sure. I based my design on the original drawings, but the box was still here at the shop. I haven’t yet made the final check.”

  She unzipped the garment bag and pulled ou
t the gown for TeraLyn to inspect. While TeraLyn gasped in delight, London checked over every inch with a critical eye. The design of the dress was based on the theme of a butterfly. Though the mother’s pictures and drawings changed over the years while her daughter grew up, one constant was the butterflies. Usually, the gowns and drawings included a butterfly of some kind, even if it was hand-drawn awkwardly on a photo of a veil.

  Wanting to use that as her inspiration, London designed a delicate collar, with a subtle, lace butterfly positioned at the neck. The same lace met below in a bodice that resembled a classic sweetheart, but instead, at least in London’s mind, formed the wings of a butterfly. The full bodice extended past the waist, completing the butterfly’s shape and ending in a smooth skirt that flowed to the floor and extended in a train behind. More of the butterfly lace interspersed around the skirt and down the train, creating a beautiful picture of white flowers and butterflies floating along with the gown.

  The sleeves finally completed the picture, looking slightly translucent and a little poofy, though not overdone. Instead, they looked very romantic, ending at the elbow where they met the lace extending to the wrists. The entire look of the gown was unique, full of romance, and completely stunning.

  “I designed a hat to go with the veil,” London explained. “The mother seemed especially fond of hats.”

  “London, it’s exquisite,” TeraLyn gushed. “I’ve never seen another gown like it.”

  “I just hope my client likes it. I get the impression that the relationship may not have always been the best between mother and daughter. I pray Traci loves the dress her mother wanted for her and that it somehow brings a little healing to her heart and her final days with her mom.”

  “That’s a beautiful thought, London,” TeraLyn’s eyes shimmered. “I love how you use your designing as a way to minister and help other people. I hope I’m able to do the same with wedding planning. I love my mother, but I appreciate more the way you do business.”

  London’s heart went out to TeraLyn. “I like to think Rhonda means well, and she is so well-respected in the community. Everyone loves her and thinks she is the kindest, most generous person.”

  “You can appear one way, but that doesn’t mean all the show extends to the heart.” TeraLyn’s gaze dropped, and she studied the carpet. “For you, it’s the opposite. All of the love in your heart overflows out in what is shown.”

  “Thank you, TeraLyn,” London replied, touched by the sincere honesty that was obviously difficult to share. “But I’m not sure others will see it that way. I should have probably been honest with your mom about how I felt about things instead of just going behind her back to do them.”

  “No, you did it the right way,” TeraLyn said firmly. “Mom wouldn’t have let you do the right thing. Sometimes doing the right thing involves going around someone determined to do the wrong thing.”

  London smiled sadly, still not quite convinced. “Well, I hope I did the right thing all around with the ‘Butterfly Dress’. I’d like to check it and get both it and Traci’s box shipped back today.”

  London walked over to her work station, realizing Traci’s box of memorabilia wasn’t where she’d left it. Bending down, she checked under the table. Not finding it there either, she began wandering around her side of the shop, her nervousness mounting.

  Where was that box? She turned a full circle, now noticing that other things weren’t exactly where she’d left them. Everything looked rearranged. Even her neat stacks of supplies looked slightly off center and different.

  “TeraLyn, have you seen that box? I left it right there on my workstation, but it isn’t there now.”

  TeraLyn looked up from where she was still studying the “Butterfly Dress” appreciatively. “No. I saw it last week, but not recently. You can ask Mom. She got here early this morning and has been tidying up.”

  London walked directly over to where Rhonda stood still talking with the young bride about the order of bridesmaid dresses.

  “Rhonda, I left a box on my table, but it’s gone now. It also looks like some of my other things are out of place and different. Have you seen it?”

  “Oh, I was hoping you’d notice! I tidied up the whole building this morning. With you so sick, I wanted to help you out, so I reorganized things and threw out a bunch of trash. Mr. Snow does so like the shop to be clean and organized. A box? Hmmm… I threw out several boxes, but they were all full of trash.”

  London felt ill and worked to control her temper. She’d already instructed Rhonda not to touch her things, and yet here she had again, doing it all in the name of “helping.”

  “This box was on my table and was filled with scraps of drawings, pictures, and magazine clippings.”

  Rhonda’s brow furrowed. “I do recall a box on your table, but it contained trash. I didn’t want you to have to carry it out yourself, so I tossed it in the dumpster for you.”

  “Oh, Rhonda, please, tell me you didn’t!” London cried, feeling faint with darkness creeping around the edges of her vision. “That box was extremely important and belonged to one of my clients.”

  Rhonda shrugged. “A box of trash can’t be that important. If I shouldn’t have tossed it, I do apologize. I was only trying to help. Mistakes happen. Let’s just let it go at that.”

  London startled and looked at Rhonda sharply. Those were the exact words she’d used just minutes ago when talking about London’s “mistake” when sending Kelli the wrong dress.

  She threw away my box on purpose!

  Examining her shrewdly, London searched for any glimmer of evidence that Rhonda had acted vindictively. All she found was a wide-eyed, overly-innocent expression. But that didn’t fool her. In her gut, she knew the truth. Rhonda knew that London switched the wedding dresses and exacted revenge with a “mistake” of her own.

  London turned and ran for the back door of the shop, fear and adrenaline overcoming her weakness. She swung the door wide and hurried to the dumpster.

  This isn’t garbage day, right?

  The dumpster was a tall, rusty contraption, and London couldn’t quite see inside, even with standing on her tiptoes. She frantically looked around for something to stand on and give her a boost to see over the edge.

  “London, are you out here?”

  She heard Adam’s voice as the door to the shop slammed shut.

  “I’m right here by the dumpster,” she called.

  “What’s going on? I stopped by to see how you were doing, and TeraLyn said you were out here. She seemed upset. Is everything okay?”

  “No,” London admitted, close to tears. “Rhonda threw out an important box that belonged to one of my clients. I’m supposed to return it with the completed dress.”

  “Why did she do that?” Adam asked alarmed.

  “She says she thought it was trash and was trying to help me clean.”

  Adam shook his head. “Sometimes Rhonda’s heart of gold does more harm than good.”

  London frowned but didn’t respond. Adam seemed to be a dedicated member of the Rhonda fan club, though the more time London spent around Rhonda, the more she suspected that heart of gold to be pure fiction.

  “You think the box is still in the dumpster?” Adam asked.

  “I certainly hope so,” London answered, still looking for some kind of stool to use to look inside. “She supposedly threw it out this morning.” After Kelli’s mom called about the switched dress!

  “Here, let me take a look,” Adam said helpfully. Adam was quite a bit taller than London, giving him just the height needed to peer over the metal edge.

  “Yuck!” Adam removed his glasses as if the sight below him was just too painful to observe with adequate vision. “I see several boxes, but I don’t know which one is yours. The whole thing looks pretty gross, like it hasn’t had a good cleaning in years.”

  “I’m sure it hasn’t,” London said. “But I need the box. It should have my name on it and be filled with scraps of paper, mementos,
and pictures.”

  Adam’s face scrunched up in complete disgust. “Honestly, London, I think you’re better off just telling your client what happened. The box doesn’t sound that important, and I doubt anything retrieved from that dumpster would be worth salvaging.”

  “I can’t do that, Adam. It might not seem valuable to you, but it means the world to Traci.”

  “Maybe we can call and see if one of the sanitation workers can make a house call in full sanitation gear,” Adam suggested.

  London shook her head. “Give me a boost, Adam.”

  “What? London, you can’t go in there. You’ve been sick, and you’re barely walking around.”

  “I’m fine,” London assured. “All this stress is a magical cure. Now, are you going to give me a boost, or do I need to go ask TeraLyn?”

  With a deep frown, Adam finally acquiesced and positioned his hands so London could use them as a step stool to throw a leg over the edge of the dumpster. She hopped down inside, immediately feeling a sense of claustrophobia with all the “yuck” Adam complained of. The stench sent a wave of dizziness and nausea over her, reminding her that despite her bravado, she still wasn’t completely recovered.

  Thankfully, this wasn’t a dumpster for a restaurant, but that didn’t seem to prevent the aroma of garbage. Scraps of cardboard and long-abandoned labels coated in a dredge of brownish-black goo crowded the corners. London stepped through the thick, brown muck, discovering that it consisted of more of the same scraps as in the corners, but aged beyond recognition to join the homogenous slime that covered the floor in a full inch.

  Recent additions to the dumpster lay in twisted contortions on top of the remains of the past, and London quickly tramped to turn over several boxes and kick away numerous trash bags, looking for the one treasure in a sea of waste.

  “Come on, London, it isn’t worth it,” Adam urged, peeking over the edge. “You’re getting filthy. If you pass out in there, I don’t know that I can get you out.”

  Ignoring Adam, she moved one black trash bag and spotted a brown box beneath it. Reaching down, she hefted the bag out of the way, slipping and landing on her knees in the gooey debris.