More Than Words, Where Dreams Begin: Black Tie and PromisesSafely HomeDaffodils in Spring

by Sherryl Woods

  “Some of your classmates might view getting a free gown or a tuxedo as charity,” Jodie cautioned. “They still might not want to go to prom.”

  “But at least it’ll be their choice, then. It won’t be because it’s impossible.”

  “What about tickets, Laurie?” Jodie asked. “Have you considered that? The cost of the tickets alone can be prohibitive for some of these students. Unless you’re willing to cut costs dramatically and do a smaller event, all of the rest might not matter.”

  Laurie sat back. “Oh, my gosh, I hadn’t even thought about that. We’ve barely started with all arrangements, but I already know how expensive the hotel and food are going to be. We tried to get good deals, but I don’t see any way to cut those costs.”

  “Unless you did the prom here,” Jodie suggested. “That’s what lots of high schools do.”

  Laurie looked skeptical. “I could suggest it, I suppose, but I know the committee would hate it.”

  “Any other ideas, then?” Jodie asked.

  Suddenly Laurie’s expression brightened. “I remember some of the moms talking about a fund-raiser they were doing. They found businesses to underwrite a lot of the costs. Do you think we could do that, maybe have a program with ads in it? I’ll bet if we explained that this was something kids were going to save and look at again and again and show their parents, too, a lot of stores would see it as good advertising. Then we could cut ticket prices. I think everyone should pay something, though, don’t you?”

  “I do,” Jodie agreed. She had to admire Laurie’s enthusiasm and her wisdom. “Okay, then, once you know your hotel and food costs, do a mock-up of the program and figure out possible ad sizes and costs. You could even pitch the hotel to see if they’d give you a bit of a break in return for a full-page ad. I’d suggest you have a separate committee to handle all this, since it’s going to be time-consuming.”

  Laurie started scribbling notes like mad. “We have a committee meeting tomorrow. I’ll bring this up then.”

  “And let’s make a list of the donations and volunteers we’ll need,” Jodie suggested, reaching for her own pad and pen and starting to jot down notes.

  “You’re the best, Ms. Fletcher. This is going to be the best prom ever.”

  Not the best, Jodie thought, but if she could make a difference for just a few teens, give them memories she’d never had, it would be worth all the extra time she’d have to put in over the next few months. It would also give her a chance to spend some time with Trent’s daughter and get to know her a little better. And maybe find out just what kind of man Trent had become.

  * * *

  Trent Winston shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket, jerked off the annoying bow tie he’d struggled with earlier, and then went to work on the studs in the overly starched shirt.

  “I am never, ever going to another black-tie event,” he declared to the empty room as he tossed the offending garments onto his king-size bed. To lend emphasis to the statement, he entered his walk-in closet and pulled out two more custom-tailored tuxedos and threw them onto the bed as well.

  He looked up to see his daughter in the doorway, staring at him with a bewildered expression.

  “What are you doing?” Laurie asked, her gaze on the discarded formal wear.

  “I’ve just made a decision,” he announced. “I have attended my last black-tie event.”

  “Really?”

  To his surprise, she didn’t seem the least bit upset. For years she’d loved to sit quietly and watch while he and her mother got ready for all of the fancy charity auctions, dinners and dances that Megan insisted they attend if his company was to grow. Megan had considered these extravagant bashes to be an investment in their future. Laurie had always acted as if her parents were leading some elaborate fairy-tale existence—the dark-haired prince taking his blond princess off to the ball.

  Since Megan’s death, he’d continued to pay the exorbitant prices for these mostly boring functions out of habit, but the reality was that Winston Construction no longer needed the same exposure that it had in its early days. He’d been custom-building luxury homes in the far western suburbs of northern Virginia for more than a dozen years now. His reputation was solid, and word-of-mouth gave him more opportunities than he could ever accept without sacrificing his hands-on approach which included overseeing every detail from framing the house to installing the kitchen cabinets. These days he could just as easily write a check and satisfy the company’s commitment to various charities. It would leave his nights free to spend time with his daughter, who was growing up too darn fast.

  Tonight she was wearing wrinkled pajamas that to his eye didn’t look all that different from the casual pants and tank tops she wore to the mall, though these pants did have some kind of kitty design she probably wouldn’t be caught dead wearing out in public. With her face scrubbed clean of makeup, he was able to forget for a moment that she was seventeen, almost an adult. It always caught him off guard when he realized that next year she’d be away at college. Right now, she still looked like his little girl.

  “Okay, what’s on your mind?” he asked, expecting the lecture Megan would have given him about the importance of networking. In some ways, Laurie was her mother’s daughter, savvy about getting ahead. She’d already chosen her college major—investment banking. In other ways, she’d inherited his down-to-earth attitude and total lack of pretensions.

  “What are you going to do with those tuxes?” she asked, surprising him.

  “Give them to a thrift shop, I suppose. Why?”

  “Can I have them?”

  He stared at her blankly. “Why would you want three tuxedos?”

  She grinned. “Prom’s coming up, and yesterday Ms. Fletcher and I came up with this totally awesome idea to make sure that everybody gets to go. Did you know there are kids at school who stay home every year because they can’t afford the tickets or the clothes?”

  “I had no idea,” he said. “And frankly, I’m a little surprised that it matters so much to you.”

  “Dad, you know why,” she said impatiently. “Mike.”

  The single word was enough to have him grinding his teeth. Mike Brentwood was a good kid. He was polite, hard-working and seemed smart enough, but Trent thought Laurie was way too young to be so serious about a boy. Any boy.

  Every time he tried to broach the subject, though, she looked at him as if he’d just arrived from Mars and was speaking some incomprehensible language. Or worse, as if he were some prejudiced jerk who hated the kid for being poor. Trent hadn’t always had money. He knew what it was to struggle to make ends meet. He also knew that a serious relationship could be a distraction that a kid like Mike didn’t need. He wasn’t just thinking of his daughter, he told himself nobly. He was also thinking of Mike and his future.

  He decided now was not the time to rehash that particular sore subject.

  “If Mike needs to borrow a tuxedo, all you have to do is ask,” he told Laurie.

  “You’re missing the point, Dad. He’s not the only one. And Mike would never accept charity from you. He’d be totally humiliated.”

  Trent could understand that. To be honest, he would have felt the same way at eighteen. Borrowing clothes from his girlfriend’s dad would have been too embarrassing. He’d had a tough-enough time swallowing his pride as an adult and letting Megan’s father back him when he’d started up his business. Even though the deal had been handled in a totally businesslike fashion and he’d paid back every dime of that money with interest, it had put their relationship on an uneven footing from the beginning. He doubted they’d have had any contact at all now if it weren’t for Laurie. Warren Davis adored his granddaughter as he had his own daughter. Trent would never get in the way of that bond, especially with Megan gone.

  He sat down on the edge of his bed and patted a place beside him. “Te
ll me about this plan of yours.”

  Laurie sat cross-legged beside him and explained that so many kids missed out on activities because they couldn’t afford the right clothes or even the tickets. “So, I spoke to Ms. Fletcher and she told me about Inside the Dream, an organization that helps kids get to the prom. We looked at the Web site and decided that even though we only have a few months, we could do the same thing here. The prom committee met today and everyone agreed. In fact, they’re really jazzed about the whole idea. I’m in charge of finding clothing donations and accessories. Dave Henderson and Marcy Tennyson said they’d try to get underwriting and sell ads in the program. Sue McNally is contacting hairstylists and manicurists.” She rolled her eyes. “With the money she and her mom spend in salons, I’m sure they won’t have any trouble guilting people into helping. Ms. Fletcher said she’d try to find a seamstress who could make alterations. And she’s in charge of identifying all the kids who might need clothes for that night. I gave her a list, but she’ll finalize it. She thinks some are going to be pretty hard to sell on the idea.”

  “She could be right,” Trent warned. He thought of the teenage sons of some of his employees. Their families were struggling to remain in homes they’d had for years and were resentful of the wealthy newcomers who’d moved into the area, even as they accepted that their income was dependent on those same people.

  “The boys might have an especially hard time with it. Have you spoken to Mike to see what he thinks?”

  She shook her head. “But I’m not worried. I’m leaving that to Ms. Fletcher. She can talk anybody into anything. She’s great!”

  “Still, it sounds like a lot to be accomplished in a short period of time. It’s already January and prom is when? May?”

  Laurie nodded.

  “Sounds like you have your work cut out for you. What do you need from me besides the clothes off my back?”

  Laurie giggled. “Dad, you said yourself you weren’t ever going to wear those tuxedos again. If you change your mind, you can buy a new one.”

  “I won’t change my mind,” he said adamantly.

  Laurie’s expression sobered. “It’s because of Mom, huh? You don’t like going to those parties without her.”

  “That’s part of it,” he conceded. “But I never liked going in the first place. Your mom thought they were important for business and she enjoyed them. She’d grown up going to all sorts of fancy events. Me, I feel dressed up if my blue jeans have a crease in them.”

  Because he didn’t want to talk about all the differences between him and Megan, differences that had started to grate before she’d been diagnosed with cancer, he changed the subject. He never wanted to disillusion Laurie with the knowledge that her parents’ marriage had been anything but idyllic right up until the end. Her mom was gone. There was no reason to spoil the memories.

  “Come on, kiddo, what else can I do to help?”

  “After the committee meeting today, Ms. Fletcher and I talked again. We were thinking that it might be fun if we had a big place where all the girls could spend the day together going through the dresses and shoes and stuff, sort of like a real shopping spree. The guys, too. Not in the same room, of course, just the same place, so shopping would be part of the fun. Maybe we could even use the place again on prom night, so the girls could get their hair done, fix their makeup. Did I tell you that Molly Williams is going to ask her mom to see if the department store where she works at Tyson’s Corner will donate makeup samples?”

  Trent grinned at her enthusiasm. “You’re really excited about this, aren’t you? It’s not all about Mike, either, is it?”

  “No, it’s not,” she said, her expression thoughtful. “I mean, it started that way, but then it got bigger. And when I talked to Ms. Fletcher and she said she thought there was a real need for this, too, then I knew it was something worth doing. Everyone I’ve spoken to has been willing to pitch in.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m so lucky, Dad. I take way too much stuff for granted, you know. Since Mom died, I guess I’ve started to realize that things can change in an instant and we should never take anything for granted.”

  He gave her a hug, this seventeen-going-on-thirty-year-old kid of his. “I’m so proud of you. And I have an idea about that place you want for your shopping extravaganza.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Really? At first I was thinking about the gym at school, but that’s really boring and it mostly smells like sweat, you know what I mean?”

  “I do, indeed,” Trent said. “Why don’t you call your granddad and ask him if he’d let you use the ballroom at Oak Haven? It’s been years since he’s thrown a party in there, so I’m not sure what shape it’s in, but it’s certainly big enough.”

  “And it has that really fabulous chandelier,” Laurie said excitedly. “Oh, Dad, it would be perfect. Do you think Granddad would agree?”

  “I think he’d like being a part of this project of yours. And I think he would do just about anything for his favorite girl. Heck, if you go back there on prom night to get ready, he might even spring for a few limos to take all of you to the dance.” He winked at her. “Just make sure you tell him that was your idea, not mine.”

  “And it’s a great idea!” She bounced off the bed. “I’m going to call him right now.”

  Trent snagged her hand. “Hold on, kiddo. It’s after midnight. You might want to wait till morning.”

  “Right,” she said at once. “I’ll call first thing.” She started from the room, her arms loaded with the tuxedos he’d tossed aside. When she turned back there was a glint in her eyes that should have been a warning. “There is one thing you could do, Dad.”

  “Oh?” he asked warily.

  “Three tuxedos are a really good start, but we need at least ten. Or gift certificates for rentals.”

  “I’ll make some calls,” he promised.

  “And one more thing...”

  “What?”

  “Maybe you could help out with the guys on shopping day and on prom night. Ms. Fletcher’s going to be there to coordinate things for the girls. You’d have to come to a couple of committee meetings, probably, but it won’t take a lot of time other than that.”

  “I could do that,” he said. “I hope you remember that I’m lousy at tying a bow tie, though.”

  “Believe me, you’re an expert compared to the guys at school.”

  Again, she started from the room, then paused. “Would you do one more thing?”

  “If I can.”

  “Ms. Fletcher has to chaperone at the dance and she always does it alone. There are other teachers there, but mostly couples. I thought maybe you’d come with her. I mean, she’s doing all this work, so she deserves to have a good time, too, right?”

  Trent’s stomach did one of those nosedives it always did when his daughter had just bamboozled him. “Maybe Ms. Fletcher would prefer to get her own date,” he suggested mildly.

  Laurie shook her head. “She never does, at least not at last year’s prom or for Homecoming last fall. I checked. I guess she takes her chaperoning duties seriously. But this time is different. You’ll be on the committee, too, so it won’t be like a big deal or anything.”

  “Does she know you’re asking me to do this?”

  Laurie flushed, a sure sign that there was at least one more surprise in store. “Not exactly. I thought maybe you could ask her yourself, so she won’t think it’s like some pity thing that I set up.” She ran back, dropped the clothes and threw her arms around him. “You’ll do it, won’t you? Please.”

  “You just absconded with all my tuxedos,” he reminded her.

  “I’ll give you one back,” she offered. “Or you can buy a new one. That’ll give you leverage to persuade the store owner to give us some free.”

  Trent mentally cursed the fact that he’d been blessed wit
h a daughter, rather than a son. A son would never try to manipulate him into something like this. A son wouldn’t have him twisted around his finger.

  “Can I at least meet Ms. Fletcher first?” he asked, a plaintive note in his voice.

  “You’ll have plenty of time to get to know her,” Laurie promised. “She’s totally awesome, Dad. You’re going to love her. Now, promise me you’ll do this. No excuses, okay?”

  Since Trent had never been able to deny his daughter anything, he nodded reluctantly. “I promise.”

  But as his daughter’s enthusiastic words sank in, Trent finally grasped that this was about a whole lot more than one night and one dance. His daughter—God help him—was matchmaking.

  CHAPTER

  TWO

  Mike Brentwood slouched down in the chair across from Jodie, his expression filled with annoyance. Slim and wiry, he was blessed with a quickness that had made him an outstanding receiver on the football team. In addition, he had dimples, wavy brown hair with golden highlights that most girls would envy, and blue eyes that were like chips of ice when filled with the kind of disdain he was obviously feeling now.

  “This was Laurie’s idea, wasn’t it?” he grumbled. “She wants to go to prom and she knows I can’t rent a tux, so now she’s made this whole big thing out of it. Come on, Ms. Fletcher, give me a break. I don’t want to wear some hand-me-down tuxedo that won’t even fit right. I’ll feel like a jerk.”

  “Maybe you should think about Laurie’s feelings,” she suggested. “She’s going to a lot of trouble, not just for you, but for your classmates. She really wants this night to be special for everyone.”

  “It’s a dance,” Mike said disparagingly. “It’s not going to bring about world peace. I don’t see why it’s such a big deal. She didn’t raise this much fuss about the Homecoming dance last fall or prom last year.”

  “I imagine she was trying to spare your feelings,” Jodie told him. “Besides, neither of those was the very last dance you’ll ever attend in high school.”