by Jane Porter
It’d been a long time since Taylor did something like this. Even longer since she’d needed to dress up for something. For the last couple of years she’d been focused on work, and getting Doug the help he needed. There hadn’t been time for dates or dances... she’d given up being young, and romantic. There was no time for romance, or fun.
But maybe for one night she could just forget about her responsibilities. Maybe for one night she could just cut loose... have fun.
Maybe.
Taylor must have looked at her watch a dozen times between three and five, and the minute hand never seemed to move. She felt as if she’d gotten a case of Spring Fever, but finally it was five, and Louise, aware that Taylor was going to the Ball with Troy, shooed her out the door, promising Taylor she’d lock up since Margaret had gone home with a toothache earlier in the day.
Taylor headed home to change from her trousers and knit sweater set to jeans and a peach cotton sweater, that was cut boxy and loose in a boyfriend style, before combing her hair and leaving it loose.
Hoping she was dressed appropriately for a girl’s night out with McKenna, Taylor drove to Married in Marietta on Front Ave and snagged a parking spot just a block from the store.
Taylor had never been inside the little boutique before, but passing through the front door was like entering another world, an overtly feminine world with blush pink carpet, glittering chandeliers and delicate French inspired furniture.
A sales associate came forward to greet Taylor and offer assistance. “I’m looking for a dress for Friday night,” Taylor said.
The sales clerk gestured to the long wall filled with fluffy and shimmering white gowns at the back. “That is our bridal area,” she said, before pointing to four rolling racks of gowns in pink, coral and red, “and over there are the formal gowns we’ve ordered in for the Valentine Ball. We have a little bit of everything here, and I do have more sizes in the back.”
Taylor thanked her and headed for the rolling racks of rose and ruby gowns, some filmy and chiffon, others short and fitted, while others sparkled with sequins and embroidery. They seemed to have something for every taste, and hopefully every budget since Taylor didn’t have much money.
“Hope you haven’t been waiting long,” McKenna said, a little breathless as she appeared at Taylor’s side, her cheeks red from the cold. She quickly began peeling off her heavy outer layers. “TJ gave me fits tonight. He decided he didn’t want me to go out and made quite a scene.”
Taylor turned to McKenna, worried. “Will he be okay?”
“Yes. He just likes throwing his weight around.” McKenna grimaced as she placed her coat and scarf and gloves on a fragile white chair. “He’s only four but he’s already all Sheenan. Not sure why I thought he’d end up with any of my DNA.”
“I didn’t realize his dad was... Trey.”
“Not a planned pregnancy. But then, my life doesn’t seem to follow any logical plans.” McKenna shrugged and turned her focus to the racks of dresses. She rifled through the nearest rack before pausing at a strapless, fitted peach gown covered in sequins that gave way to a silk skirt at the thigh. “How pretty. So romantic.”
“I’ve never worn gowns like these,” Taylor said, “at least, not since the Hopeville High prom, and even then, I chose a simple off white dress that seemed classic and elegant. At least, I thought I looked pretty and elegant until I got to the gym and realized the dress looked like a sheet off my parents’ bed.”
McKenna laughed and pulled out a short, miniscule pink sequin cocktail dress. “I think I wore something like this to my prom.”
“Very sexy,” Taylor said.
“Mmm. Short, tight, sexy with the highest heels I could find. I wanted to drive Trey crazy.”
“Did he love it?”
“No.” McKenna hung the shimmering pink number back on the rack. “He was livid.” She looked at Taylor, and scrunched her nose. “He wasn’t my date. We’d broken up the week before but I refused to sit home crying. So my brother, Quinn, the baseball star, found a date for me, and I went to my prom looking like a million bucks with one of his friends. It made Trey nuts.”
“Did you and Trey get back together after the Prom?”
“We did, towards the end of summer. But broke up again by Christmas. Didn’t date again for a year since Trey was competing on the circuit.” McKenna’s smile faded. “We were impossible. Our relationship was impossible. We shouldn’t have ever let it go on as long as we did.”
McKenna turned back to the rack and quickly flipped through more gowns but Taylor had seen the tears in McKenna’s eyes.
“But you’re happy now, right?” Taylor asked, worriedly. “You’re newly engaged and getting married later this year, so it’s okay?”
McKenna held a sleek dark pink gown against her slender frame. The long dress was cut asymmetrical with one shoulder strap and a sequin starburst at the waist. McKenna might not be a dress girl, but she was certainly drawn to gorgeous sexy gowns. “What do you think?”
Taylor noticed McKenna hadn’t answered her question. “Very pretty. And that dark coral pink looks great with your hair.”
“They always say redheads shouldn’t wear pink, but I don’t believe in following rules.”
“I think it’s gorgeous.”
“So what about you?” McKenna asked. “Are you dress shopping, too, or are you just giving me moral support?”
“I need a dress.”
“Good. Let’s find some things for you to try on. Have you seen anything you like? What’s your style?”
“Inexpensive?”
McKenna gave Taylor a pointed look. “No woman wants to look cheap.”
“No, I know, but I don’t have a big budget.”
“I’m sure we can find something pretty that won’t break your budget. So what do you like? Long? Short? Fitted? Full? And are you a pink girl, or red, or apricot or purple?”
“I like red better than pink,” Taylor said. “And apricot better than purple. And I don’t know about the rest. Just pretty. I don’t want to look like I’m wearing a sheet from my mother’s bed.”
“Got it.”
For the next half hour they tried on dress after dress, and took turns posing and turning in front of the tall mirror.
In the end McKenna chose the stunning pink asymmetrical gown with the starburst at the waist as it hugged her curves and set off her dark auburn hair, green eyes, and flawless, luminous skin.
“What about you?” McKenna asked. “What are your favorites?”
“I like the red lace cocktail dress,” Taylor said, “and the ivory dress with the bronze sequins at the bodice. That was really pretty, too.”
“The red lace dress is what old ladies wear to hide their jiggly upper arms,” McKenna said, “and the ivory dress is pretty, but it looks like a bargain priced dress. Something for teens to wear to their prom. You’re twenty-six and in June you’ll be Marietta’s new head librarian. You need a dress with wow factor, something that screams stylish, sexy, and sophisticated.”
Taylor shook her head. “Not sexy. Definitely not sexy. Stylish and sophisticated is good enough.”
“Why not sexy?” McKenna demanded, flipping through more hanging gowns, this time on a search for Taylor.
“Um, I’m not... sexy.”
McKenna paused mid-search. “Stop talking crazy. You’re beautiful.”
“I’m not, and even if I was, I can’t go to the Ball all... sexy. My date wouldn’t like it.”
McKenna turned to face Taylor, hands on her hips. “What?”
Taylor shifted from one foot to the other. “My date isn’t a... date. We’re just going as... friends.”
“I don’t get it. Who are you going with?”
Taylor had wondered when this question might arise. “Troy.”
“Troy Sheenan?”
Was there any other Troy in Marietta?
Taylor nodded. “Yes.” She avoided McKenna’s gaze, not wanting to see laughter or mock
ery in her eyes, because of course Troy wasn’t the right man for Taylor. Troy was... well... Marietta’s Most Eligible Bachelor. And probably San Francisco’s Most Eligible Bachelor, too. “Jane set us up. I guess Troy just broke up with a girlfriend and his dad is dying—”
“You and Troy.”
Taylor’s heart thudded. She swallowed uneasily, not wanting to think about Troy or the kiss, because the kiss had been so good and hot and sweet and sexy all at the same time. “We’re not a couple—”
“Maybe you should be a couple. He’s lovely.” McKenna said firmly. “And you are, too.”
“But there’s no... chemistry,” Taylor said, remembering Troy’s words. “And he has to have chemistry. You know.”
“How do you know there was no chemistry?”
Taylor blushed. “He kissed me.”
McKenna’s eyes gleamed. “And...?”
“I thought it was really good.”
“He was voted best kisser his senior year of high school. And of course, I never kissed him, but Sheenans are good lovers, so. You know.”
Taylor glanced around to be sure the sales clerk wasn’t listening. “Apparently I’m not a good kisser, though. Troy said... you know.”
“Troy told you that you weren’t a good kisser?”
“No. He just said... we could be friends.”
“Of course you can be friends. You don’t want a lover who doesn’t care about you.”
“He’s not my lover. He’s not even attracted to me.”
“And he said this?”
“No. But it was implied.”
McKenna gave her a strange look. “Not sure your logic is all that sound, which is fine. No one ever said a woman has to be logical all the time. But the one thing that is clear, is that we need to find you the perfect gown for the Ball. Yes?”
In the dressing room, armed with another stack of gowns, all handpicked by McKenna, Taylor tried on one after the other. They were all beautiful dresses, all far more sophisticated than Taylor would have selected for herself. A stunning ruby red ball gown with full skirts and a plunging décolleté; a long, form fitting red sequin gown with small padded shoulders that left her entire back bare; a sweet gown in blush with avant garde roses stitched at the bodice and fluttery folds of fabric falling to her feet.
So many beautiful gowns and yet none of them felt right. She couldn’t imagine going to the Ball in any of them. And then, right when Taylor didn’t think she could try on another dress, the sales clerk pushed a dress through the curtain and insisted Taylor try it on. “This was in the back,” the girl said, “It’s a small size, but you’re tiny and young enough to pull the look off. “
Taylor warily eyed the gown with the red circle spangles. It was not a quiet little dress, nor a sleek sophisticated gown. It was... eye catching. Maybe even show stopping. It was a dress better suited to a stage or runway...
“It’s not me,” Taylor said, poking her head out of the dressing room. “It’s just too much.”
“Put it on,” McKenna said.
“Do,” the sales girl agreed. “I think you’d look beautiful in it. You have the right coloring with your dark hair and eyes. How can it hurt to give it a try?”
A few minutes later Taylor stepped from the dressing room and turned to let the sales girl zipped up the back of the dress.
She shot McKenna a quick glance as she took a place before the tall mirror. McKenna’s eyes were wide, and she was smiling, broadly.
Taylor looked from McKenna to the mirror, and studied her reflection.
And then she did a slow twirl in front of the mirror, unable to believe she was looking at herself.
She looked... incredible.
It was the dress, of course. And the gown’s tulle wasn’t exactly pink, more blush or nude, and covered with those glossy red spangles and moved and shimmered and reflected the light.
Taylor put a hand to the deep V-neck bodice, and then to the full skirt.
“It’s... pretty,” she said softly, a bit awed by her own reflection.
“Stunning,” the sales clerk agreed.
“That’s the dress,” McKenna added.
Taylor reached for the tag that hung beneath her arm and glanced at the price a second time, making sure she hadn’t read it wrong the first time. Nine hundred dollars. Good God. Did people really pay this much for a single dress? “It’s way too much. Way, way too much.”
“But it’s perfect,” McKenna said. “You look like a princess.”
“Anyone would in a dress that costs almost a thousand dollars,” Taylor retorted, turning around to be unzipped.
“It is couture,” the sales girl said. “One of a kind.”
“Not for me. I’m not couture,” Taylor said, shaking her head. “I’m an off the rack kind of a girl. Eighty to one hundred dollars max on a dress. That’s my budget. And the ivory dress with the bronze sequin bodice fit me, and my budget. I’ll go with that.”
Chapter Seven
With dresses zipped into garment bags and then stowed in their cars, McKenna and Taylor walked down 1st Avenue to Grey’s Saloon on Main for drinks and appetizers.
“When does Jane return?” McKenna asked, as they settled into a booth towards the back of the saloon.
“Tomorrow afternoon,” Taylor answered, glancing towards the pool tables where Callan Carrigan was playing with a couple of cowboys. Sage had once said that Callan could outride, and out rope virtually any local cowboy, and from the looks of it, she could out play them at pool, too. Callan’s sure shots were sending ball after ball into the pockets.
The guys let out a loud collective groan and McKenna turned to watch Callan take a bow. “Looks like Callan kicked butt again,” McKenna said.
“She’s nothing like Sage, is she?” Taylor said, secretly rather intimidated by Callan, even though they were practically the same age.
“Nope. But none of the Carrigan girls are alike. Just as the Sheenan brothers are all so different.” McKenna turned back around, faced Taylor. “Speaking of the Sheenans, how is it that you and Troy are going to the Ball together?”
“Jane set us up,” Taylor said, happy to see their drinks arrive. McKenna had ordered a margarita on the rocks and Taylor a glass of red wine. Now all they needed was some food and things would be perfect.
McKenna touched her finger to the salt rimming her glass. “Didn’t Jane used to have a thing for Troy?”
Taylor nodded. “Troy claims it was one-sided.”
“I believe it.” McKenna licked salt from her fingertip. “Jane’s not his type.”
“Why not? She’s really smart and successful and—”
“A little too abrasive.”
“Jane’s not abrasive!”
“She’s pushy.”
“It’s her job to get things done.”
McKenna shrugged. “Troy likes sweet girls. Nice girls. Smart girls.” She lifted her glass, sipped her margarita, green eyes gleaming. “Girls like you.”
Taylor nearly choked on her wine. “He doesn’t like me.”
“He must like you if he’s kissed you.”
“He kissed me as a test. It was to see if we had chemistry.”
“I see. And this is the test you claim you failed?”
“Yes.”
McKenna laughed quietly and then sipped her margarita again. “He’s playing you.”
“He’s not.”
“Troy Sheenan would never kiss you if there wasn’t a little spark. If he felt absolutely no attraction, he wouldn’t even bother with a kiss.” McKenna shook her glass, letting the ice cubes clink. “Where were you when you kissed?”
“Main Street Diner.”
“What?”
“That’s what I mean. It wasn’t a romantic kiss. He leaned across the table and kissed me to see if there were any... sparks.”
“He did this all at Main Street Diner.”
“Yes.”
McKenna grinned, green eyes gleaming. “Good Lord, girl. He’s definitel
y interested. He would never kiss you, much less take you to a Ball if he wasn’t.”
“Jane arranged the Ball part.”
“Troy doesn’t do pity dates.” McKenna’s arched brows rose higher. “Troy Sheenan doesn’t have to.”
“Maybe not a pity date, but it’s not a date date. That’s why he kissed me. To make sure we could be friends, and so that’s what we are.”
“But you liked kissing him.”
Taylor blushed. “He knows what he’s doing.”
“You just need confidence.”
“I am confident.”
“Maybe as a librarian, but not as a woman.” McKenna suddenly leaned forward, and reaching out, plucked the glasses from Taylor’s nose. “Why do you wear these all the time now? You didn’t use to.”
“I need them,” Taylor answered, sticking her hand out, palm up. “May I have them back?”
“When you first moved here, you hardly ever wore your glasses. Now I never see you in contacts.”
“I like my glasses,” Taylor said a little stiffly. “And I can’t see you right now, so I’d like them back.”
McKenna put them in her hand. “Here you go. And don’t be mad. I wasn’t trying to be hurtful. I’m just curious. And maybe concerned.”
“Concerned, why?”
“I don’t know. I just kept thinking that maybe something happened.” She must have seen Taylor’s expression because she quickly added, “I get the feeling that you’re hiding, or just hiding behind the glasses. But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m just... projecting.”
A whistle from the pool tables drew Taylor’s attention and she glanced over at Callan who had her hand out, collecting dollar bills. It seemed she’d just won another game.
“I’m not hiding anything,” Taylor said after a moment. “Just trying to... look... older.”
“Why?”
Taylor shrugged. “I was told back in early December that I didn’t look mature enough. That I was too young. So I’m trying to dress more age appropriately.”
“Age appropriate for what? Too young for what? Take over Margaret’s job as head librarian?”
