“Let me grab my bag and I’ll meet you downstairs. I’ll tell you on the way to the spa.”
As DJ drove to the other side of town, Casey listened, enthralled by DJ’s story about Miss Walford’s little power trip. DJ might’ve dramatized it a bit more than necessary, but only to bolster Casey’s spirits.
“I’m almost sorry I missed that,” Casey admitted.
“I doubt that it’s over with yet,” DJ told her. “It’ll be interesting to see what happens when Dylan and Grandmother hear that the Carter House girls have been banned from the fashion show.”
Casey actually laughed. “You know, DJ, your grandmother is okay.”
DJ considered this. “Yeah, she is pretty cool for an old broad.”
“We had a good talk…”
“About?”
“About the baby.”
DJ was surprised to hear Casey say it like that…the baby. “Oh?”
“She told me that you’re not the one who told her.”
“Not in so many words,” DJ admitted.
“She said Inez found my pregnancy test in Eliza and Kriti’s trash can.” Casey chuckled. “Guess that wasn’t my most brilliant move.”
“It worked out.”
“Anyway, she was very understanding and wise.”
DJ pondered that. Wise wasn’t the usual word that DJ would choose to describe her grandmother, but it was sweet that Casey thought that.
“She told me I should tell my mom.”
“And?”
“And I’m thinking about it.”
“I know how much your parents love you, Casey. And, think about it, if my grandmother—a woman who is all about appearances—can be so understanding about your pregnancy, shouldn’t your parents be even more so?”
“Maybe…”
DJ parked in front of the spa. “Here we are,” she said cheerfully. “Let the fun begin!”
Casey grimaced.
DJ reached over and put her hand on her arm. “Okay, Case, this is what I want you to do. It might not be the smartest thing. But as your friend, I’m asking you, okay?”
“What?”
“For just this one day, while we’re at the spa, and while we’re getting ready for the prom, and while we’re at the prom…could you just try to forget that you’re pregnant?”
“Forget?”
DJ nodded. “Yeah. Give yourself a little break, okay?”
Casey looked unsure.
“Just for one day. And if you give yourself a break, you’ll be giving the rest of us a break too. Do you get that?”
Casey nodded slowly. “Yeah…I think I do.”
DJ hugged her. “Thanks!”
As they went into the spa, DJ wasn’t sure about what she’d just asked Casey to do. It wasn’t like she wanted to pretend that being pregnant wasn’t a big deal. But she just wanted Casey to cut herself some slack—and she knew that everyone else could use some too.
15
DUE TO THE STAGGERING OF APPOINTMENTS for six girls, they didn’t get through with the spa until after two o’clock. But the entire time was slow paced and refreshing as they got facials and pedicures, soaked in the hot tub, had manicures, sat in the sunshine, enjoyed a nice lunch that Eliza had brought in, and eventually went home happy and relaxed.
“Thanks, Eliza,” DJ said as they stood in front of the house. “I had no idea I’d enjoy it that much.”
Everyone else chimed in, and Eliza seemed to appreciate their gratitude. “And don’t forget that my mother is having appetizers sent over,” Eliza reminded them, “and that they’ll be set up at five for a little pre-prom soiree before the guys arrive.” She turned and headed for her car.
“Where are you going?” Taylor called out.
Eliza patted her head. “To get coiffed. Anyone care to join me?”
They all passed, and Taylor announced she was going to take a nap. “All that hard work at the spa has exhausted me.” It seemed they all were worn out. Everyone slipped off to their rooms and for about an hour, the whole house was very quiet. When DJ woke up, she could hear the shower running and knew that Taylor probably was getting a head start on prom preparations. In an effort to split up bathroom time, DJ had taken her shower before her nap. But as she got out of bed, she noticed something. Two absolutely gorgeous dresses were hanging on the closet door. Someone must’ve brought them up while they were napping.
DJ ran straight to the pale aqua dress, holding it up to herself as she looked at the mirror. She was in astonishment. Although DJ didn’t consider herself any kind of a fashion expert, and many would agree, she knew this dress was pure perfection. The top layer of fabric was so light and filmy that it seemed nearly weightless. And the way it seemed to catch and reflect the light in an iridescent way was magical. The cut was stunning and the fit appeared to be perfect. With a sweetheart neckline and a fitted low-waisted bodice, it was truly flattering. The skirt was full and flowing, but not too fluffy—perfect for dancing. Dylan had truly outdone himself. DJ knew she would feel like Cinderella tonight. And she could hardly wait!
“Can you believe it?” Taylor said as she emerged from the bathroom. “Inez brought them up while you were still asleep. She even steamed them for us.”
DJ turned around, still holding the dress up in front of herself. “They’re beautiful!”
“Dylan is a true artist.”
“I can’t wait to try it on.”
“What are you waiting for?”
DJ looked at the clock. “It’s only three thirty.”
“Don’t you want to be sure it fits?”
“Oh, yeah.” DJ quickly tore off her sweats and soon had the dress on. “Oh, Taylor, look!” She spun around. “It’s absolutely the best!”
Taylor had just taken her own dress from the hanger, but paused to stare. “Wow, DJ, that is superb. I think I’m jealous.”
“Try yours!”
Soon they both had their dresses on, and while both dresses seemed totally perfect, DJ loved hers more. Fortunately, it seemed that Taylor loved hers more too.
“And they couldn’t fit better,” Taylor said as she carefully removed hers.
DJ continued to look in the mirror, turning from side to side. “How does Dylan do it?”
Taylor laughed. “Quit gawking at yourself. You still have your hair and makeup to—”
Her sentence was cut off by a scream—a truly bloodcurdling scream!
DJ grabbed Taylor’s arm. “Who is that?”
“Sounds like someone’s being murdered.” Taylor grabbed her phone while DJ, still wearing her formal, ran out the door.
“Wait!” cried Taylor. “What if—”
The scream was coming from Rhiannon and Eliza’s room. All of the girls and Grandmother merged in the hallway as DJ burst into the room to see what was wrong. There stood Eliza holding her icy blue prom dress, which was dripping in what appeared to be blood.
“Eliza?” cried DJ. “Are you hurt?”
Tears were streaming down Eliza’s face.
“What is it?” demanded Grandmother. “What has happened?”
“Oh my—” gasped Casey.
“Have you been shot?” cried Kriti.
“No—no—I’m okay” Eliza sobbed. “Someone sabotaged my prom dress!” She held it out for them to see. “I think it’s…paint.”
DJ reached out and touched and then smelled the fabric. “It’s paint,” she told them. “And it’s nearly dry.”
Eliza pointed to her closet, where the contents all seemed to be splattered in the same red paint. “It’s all over everything,” she sobbed, collapsing onto her bed.
“Who could’ve done this?” demanded Grandmother. She turned and looked at the girls. Everyone was there except Rhi-annon. “Where is Rhiannon?”
“She’s sewing upstairs.” Eliza sat up and rubbed her eyes. “And she wouldn’t have done this.”
“Then who?” Grandmother asked sternly.
“Not any of the Carter House girls,” Eliza said with confidence.
“Who then?”
“The other girls,” DJ said suddenly. “They were all here when we left.”
“The models?” Grandmother asked.
“Yes,” Taylor agreed. “That must be it. Madison is the most likely suspect.” She turned to Grandmother. “She was mad that Eliza came back in time to run for prom queen.”
“Haley was here too,” Eliza reminded them.
“I don’t think Haley would do something like this,” DJ said.
“I cannot believe anyone would do something like this.” Grandmother was examining Eliza’s closet. “This damageamounts to thousands of dollars. I believe that could be considered a felony.”
“What’s going on here?” asked Rhiannon as she came into the room carrying her gown. Then she saw Eliza’s dress and let out a shriek. “What happened?”
They quickly explained, and Rhiannon was as indignant as the rest.
“We can’t let them get away with this,” Casey said.
“How can we prove they did it?” asked DJ.
“Maybe we should call the police,” suggested Kriti.
“No…” Eliza threw down her ruined dress. “Let’s not.”
“Why not?” demanded DJ.
Eliza’s face was still wet with tears. “I just…I just…just can’t.”
DJ remembered what an ordeal it had been the last time they’d been with the police. “Okay…I get it.”
“So they just get away with it?” asked Kriti.
“Here’s an even bigger question,” said Rhiannon. “What is Eliza going to wear to the prom?”
Now they were all talking at once. Rhiannon rummaged through Eliza’s paint-splattered closet only to find that all her formals were ruined.
“There’s no time to shop for a dress,” said Grandmother.
“You could borrow one of my old ones,” offered Taylor, “but you’d have to get it altered since I’m bigger on top than you.”
Eliza nodded. “I guess that would be okay. Thanks, Taylor.”
DJ thought about how Taylor’s style was usually pretty sophisticated and daring, whereas Eliza usually wore sweet delicate gowns with a definite fairy-tale princess sort of look to them.
“Most of my formals are darker colors.” Taylor frowned. “And I don’t think I have anything that I haven’t already worn, but maybe no one will remember.”
“Or maybe I could make some changes,” offered Rhiannon.
DJ stepped up next to Eliza, holding the skirt of her gown out like she was about to curtsy. “So what do you think of this little number?” she asked.
“DJ,” Grandmother reprimanded her. “Don’t make Eliza feel worse.”
“It’s beautiful…” Eliza made a small half smile. “You look lovely, DJ. Like a princess.”
“We’re the same size,” DJ reminded her.
Eliza looked confused.
“Why don’t you wear it tonight?”
“Are you serious?” Eliza’s blue eyes grew large.
“No, DJ,” Taylor told her firmly. “Dylan designed it for you.”
“And it’s perfect on you, DJ,” Rhiannon said quickly.
“That’s very generous.” Grandmother put her hand on DJ’s shoulder. “But you don’t have to do that, dear.”
“I want to do it.”
“No.” Eliza shook her head. “I won’t let you do that.”
The room was quiet. DJ couldn’t even explain where this was coming from—maybe it was a God thing—but she just really wanted to do this. And so she began to take off her dress. Standing there in her underwear, and not the pretty kind like Taylor and Eliza wore, she handed the dress to Eliza. “Please, just try it on. Do it for me.” She smiled.
“DJ,” pleaded Eliza, “I cannot take your dress.”
“Please, just try it on.”
Eliza slipped the dress on and Rhiannon helped with the zipper. Just as DJ suspected, it fit perfectly. DJ guided Eliza over to the full-length mirror. “You look beautiful, Eliza. And if you’re crowned queen, you should be wearing it.”
“But what about you?” Eliza was crying again.
“We’ll fix her up,” Rhiannon said quickly. She turned to Taylor. “Let me have a look at some of your dresses.”
“And don’t touch that closet,” Grandmother commanded. “I want to take photos—just in case we find the culprit and need evidence.”
“DJ.” Eliza came over to stop DJ from leaving. “It’s incredibly kind of you to offer your dress, but I really can’t—”
“You have no choice,” DJ told her. “You’re wearing that dress.”
“And if you know DJ,” said Taylor, “you know it’s useless to argue.”
“I’m pretty sure she can take you,” teased Casey.
“Lucky for you,” Rhiannon told Eliza, “your shoes will look great with it.”
“Now, everyone, it’s getting late,” Grandmother warned them. “I’m sure you still have a lot to do to be ready for your big night.”
Rhiannon followed DJ and Taylor into their room. Taylor opened her closet and began to dig through it with Rhiannon. But it seemed that nothing they found was going to work. Meanwhile, DJ sat on her bed, still clad in just her underwear, and waited. Perhaps a teeny-tiny part of her regretted what she’d just done, but mostly she was just purely happy.
“What’s that Bible verse about being a cheerful giver?” she asked.
“I can’t remember the whole thing,” Rhiannon called back, “but the gist is that God loves a cheerful giver.”
“And that’s how I feel about letting Eliza use that dress,” DJ told them. “Cheerful.”
“How about this one?” Taylor asked as she emerged with a silver-looking dress. “I’ve never worn it. In fact, I forgot I even had it.”
“It’s pretty,” said Rhiannon. “The fabric is kind of like the one Dylan made. It’s iridescent.” She held it up to the light. “See how it changes colors, DJ?”
DJ got up to look at the dress. “It is pretty,” she agreed. “How come you never wore it?” she asked Taylor. “Is something wrong with it?”
Taylor made a face. “It’s a little too small on top.”
Rhiannon brightened. “Bingo! Try it, DJ.”
They helped DJ into it, and it fit fairly well, except that DJ was concerned about showing cleavage. “I don’t know.” Rhiannon squinted at the mirror, then pinched and pulled at the fabric, and finally promised she could have the dress fixed in about twenty minutes.
“But what about you?” DJ asked Rhiannon. “Am I taking away your primping time? What about your hair and makeup?”
“Look at her hair,” Taylor said. “It’s already perfect.”
Rhiannon patted her naturally curly red hair and smiled. “Well, thank you. But I do plan to pin it up.”
“I’ll help you with your makeup,” offered Taylor.
“Thanks!”
After Rhiannon left with the dress, DJ picked up her Jimmy Choos. “Do you think these will look okay with that dress?”
“Absolutely,” Taylor assured her as she worked on her own hair. “And since Eliza’s prom dress was light blue and yours was aqua, the guys’ tuxes should be okay too.”
“Almost like it was meant to be.”
“Hey, underwear girl, why don’t you plug in the hot rollers for your hair?” Taylor said.
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to do your do.”
Before long all the girls were running in all directions, borrowing last-minute items, and asking for opinions. As DJ sat there in her underwear—nicer underwear now—and got her hair and makeup done, she thought how she would miss this after graduation.
“Here we go,” announced Rhiannon as she burst into the room with Inez behind her, carrying the steamer. “First you try it on, and if it’s right Inez will steam it.”
“And while they’re doing that,” said Taylor, “I’ll work on your makeup, Rhiannon.”
Inez had a hard-to-read expression as she
helped DJ into the dress. Taking her time to zip it in back, Inez said nothing and simply turned DJ around to face the mirror. DJ couldn’t believe it was the same dress. “Rhiannon is a genius,” DJ said as she admired the way Rhiannon had draped a piece of gauzy silvery fabric around the previously too-revealing neckline. She’d made a few other slight changes as well that made all the difference.
“Very pretty,” Inez observed. “You want me to steam it now?”
“I can do it,” offered DJ.
“No, you cannot.” Inez unzipped the dress and carefully removed it.
“Are you mad at me?” DJ asked as she reached for her bathrobe. Somehow sitting around in her underwear with Inez did not feel right.
Inez was already steaming the dress. “Mad at you?”
“Yeah, you’re acting weird.”
Inez sniffed.
“Are you crying?” DJ went around to see Inez better. “Is something wrong?”
“I just think it’s very kind of you to give your dress to Eliza.” She looked up at DJ with watery dark eyes. “You are growing up to be a fine young woman. You make your grandmother proud.”
“Wow…” DJ shook her head in amazement. “Thanks, Inez. Coming from you…well, that’s very nice.” DJ just stood and watched as Inez finished steaming the dress.
“There, how’s that?” she asked.
“That looks great. Thanks.” Then DJ hugged her. Inez acted like she didn’t like it and waved her hand as if to push DJ away, but DJ saw her smiling as she left the room.
“Now for the moment of truth,” DJ said to herself as she slipped the dress on again. She was surprised that steaming helped as much as it did; the smoothed-out fabric was suddenly incredibly reflective and luminescent. DJ slipped her freshly pedicured feet into the delicious Jimmy Choos, and for the second time that day, she really did feel like Cinderella.
“Oh, good,” said Grandmother as she burst into the room. “You’re here.”
DJ turned to show her the dress. “Didn’t Rhiannon do a good job?”
“She certainly did.” Grandmother nodded in approval. “That girl has such talent. Someday we’ll be saying we knew her when.”
“I know it’s not quite as exquisite as Dylan’s gown, but then Rhiannon was a little short on time.”
“I have something to add to your ensemble, if you don’t mind.”
Last Dance Page 12
