by Donna Doyle
“Is this the place?”
Dora’s question brought Molly out of her reverie about future business plans. “What? Oh, yes. This is it. And there’s Renee’s car right there. Pull in right next to it so we won’t be so obvious as we check the numbers.”
It only took a second to note that the Honda’s parking slot was labeled with a big yellow B, so the ladies headed to the second door on the apartment complex. Molly’s heart thumped as Dora knocked. She truly hoped that the bride’s friend was home. It would be harder to track her down at work, since she commuted to a larger town every morning. The most ideal situation would be to find Michelle right there on Renee’s couch.
It took long enough for the door to open that Molly had just about given up. Renee was dressed in an old t-shirt with rips and various colors of paint blotched across the front. Her capri-cut yoga pants were similarly adorned, and she had tamed her unruly red hair under a handkerchief. She blinked, startled to see Molly and Dora on her threshold. “Oh, hi. What’s going on?”
“Is Michelle here?” Molly asked hopefully. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of her all day about her dress, and I’m starting to get concerned.”
“About her dress?” Renee repeated. “Is there something wrong?”
Molly and Dora looked at each other and then back at Renee. “You mean you don’t know?” Dora asked.
“It sounds like you’d better come in,” Renee replied slowly. She held the door wider to admit them. “Don’t mind my mess. I’ve been working like crazy lately, so I haven’t had time to clean. I took a vacation day today just to finish painting. That’s why I’m dressed like this.” She gave an embarrassed gesture toward her clothing.
“That’s all right, dear. We don’t mind that.” Molly always thought it was interesting when people apologized about their messes. It was usually never as bad as they imagined it to be, and Renee’s apartment was no different. The apartment was a typical one, with stain-resistant berber carpet, a small but nice kitchen, and a set of sliding glass doors that led to a back patio. The living room was outfitted in modern, uncomfortable-looking furniture that seemed to fit Renee’s personality. As far as the mess went, it amounted to a few magazines spread across the coffee table, a coffee mug on the kitchen counter, and a canvas drop cloth spread under one wall of the dining room. Half of the wall was a pale cream color, and the other half was a brilliant teal.
“Please, have a seat.” Renee gestured vaguely at the couch. “I might still have wet paint on me, so you’ll forgive me if I stand. Now what is all of this about Michelle’s dress?”
“You really don’t know?” Dora asked. “She didn’t tell you?”
Renee was starting to get irritated, and she put her fists on her hips. “I really don’t. Now will you please tell me what’s going on?”
“Sorry,” Molly cut in. “It’s just that we would have imagined Michelle would have called you. It seems that someone broke into Gloria’s Gowns the night before last and completely destroyed Michelle’s dress.”
Now Renee sunk slowly to a nearby chair, her mouth wide. “You’re kidding me.”
Molly shook her head firmly. “I’m not. There’s no salvaging it, but Gloria and I have been working out a few ideas. Michelle was pretty distraught, of course, and she didn’t seem like she was in the mood to hear any of it on Wednesday. I thought it would be best to give her a little time to cool down and then call her today, but she’s not answering her phone.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Renee held her hand in the air, palm out, to stop Molly. “Tell me what’s this with the dress? Who did it? Did someone call the police?”
“All of that has been taken care of. At the moment, we don’t know who did it, although I can promise we’d like to find out. The most important thing right now is to get Michelle into a new dress.”
Renee shot back to her feet. She snatched her phone up off the kitchen counter and began scrolling through it. “I can’t believe she didn’t call me!”
“Brian was there for her, and she was extremely upset. I’m sure everything is fine.” Molly said the words, but she wasn’t completely convinced of them herself. Michelle had stormed out of the dress shop, but had anybody heard from her since then?
Renee wasn’t listening. Instead, she pressed a few buttons and held the phone to her ear. “Michelle!” she practically shouted a moment later. “Are you okay?”
Molly looked at Dora and shrugged. At least this was one way to get a hold of her.
“Tell me what happened. Okay. Okay. Do you need anything? You’re sure? Okay. Bye.” Renee hung up and sat in the chair again, looking exhausted. “She has a little shed behind her house that she turned into a painting studio last summer. She’s been out there all morning, and she didn’t take her phone with her.”
“I didn’t know that she painted,” Molly said with a smile, hoping to get things to return to an easier tone.
“Oh, yeah. She was helping me with some of the trim work in here, but her talents are completely wasted with a roller and a brush. She did that painting right there.” Renee pointed to a large canvas that hung over the entertainment center. It was a landscape with distant mountains, trees with autumn leaves, and a creek.
“It’s lovely,” Dora said, getting to her feet and crossing the room to get a better look at it. “I knew she did a lot of design work on her computer, but I had no idea she had this much raw talent.”
Molly had to agree. “We have much more local talent than we realize. Did she sound like she was all right on the phone?”
“She’s been painting since dawn, so yeah, I think she’ll be okay. Why don’t you give me the other options for a dress, and I can go talk to her this afternoon. By then, her hand will probably be tired and she’ll be ready to listen.” Renee looked eagerly at the two women.
This was far more helpful than the maid of honor had been hitherto. It made Molly wonder about a few things, but she held her tongue. “The first option is that we can have a new dress flown in from New York. It will cost quite a bit extra to have it overnighted, and then of course there’s the cost of the dress itself. Gloria is pretty sure her insurance will end up paying for it, but that’s going to take some time. I’m also not sure the dress would get here in time at this point.”
“Okay. What else?”
“There’s another dress at the shop that’s very pretty and of a similar style, but from Michelle’s reaction over her original dress I think it’s going to be hard to convince her that anything would be a worthy replacement,” Dora jumped in, finally tearing her eyes away from the painting. “It’s not by the same designer, and it would need a few alterations, but Gloria can get it done if Michelle will agree. She already has all of Michelle’s measurements, so she just needs the okay to do it.”
“The last option is for Michelle to go back to the shop, pick out a new dress of her choice, and Gloria will alter it. I know she really had her heart set on the one that was destroyed, and I do understand how important a dress is to a bride, but we’ll have to make some sort of decision to make this wedding happen.” Molly spread her hands on her lap, hoping that Renee understood.
She nodded. “Sounds good to me. I’ll let you know what I find out.”
“Thank you. We’ll let you get back to your decorating.” Molly and Dora let themselves out and hurried through the rain to get back to Dora’s car.
“Well, at least we’ve got that taken care of,” Dora said as she started the engine.
“Yes and no,” Molly hedged.
“What do you mean?” Dora pulled out of the parking lot and headed back to the office.
“Did you notice that the color Renee was painting her dining room was the same color as the paint on the dress?” That bright teal was hard to miss.
“Oh, that’s true. What do you think that means?”
“I have a few ideas, but I’m not sure about any of them yet.”
The phone was ringing when they got back to the office, and Dora r
ushed to answer it. “Oh, hi Renee. You reached her already?” She turned to scribble something on the notepad on her desk. “Great. I’ll tell Molly, and we’ll contact Gloria. Thank you so much!”
“I take it she talked to Michelle about the dress?”
“She decided to go over there right away and talk to her in person. I’m surprised, since Renee hasn’t seemed very enthused about the wedding. Michelle was still insistent that the wedding should be cancelled. In light of Michelle’s distress, Renee says to go with the second option and that she will continue to work on Michelle while the alterations are made. She mentioned that she would give Gloria a call.”
Molly breathed a sigh of relief. Everything for this wedding had been lined up for months up until this week, and they were once again falling back into place.
Or at least, most things. There was still the matter of that postcard Michelle had dropped at Gloria’s. Molly still hadn’t brought it up, but it was burning a hole in her file folder. While Dora was engaged on the phone with a bride who wanted to change the date of her cake tasting, Molly slipped it out and dialed the number on the front.
“Dressed to Thrill, this is Victoria.”
“Yes, Victoria. I’m the wedding coordinator for Michelle Harris, and I was just calling to see if she’s done the final fitting on her gown.”
There was a long moment of silence on the other end of the phone. “I’m afraid you must have the wrong number. I’m not working on a dress for anyone by that name.”
Molly plastered a smile on her face, knowing it would make her sound friendly. “Oh, but you must be. She gave me your number. We’re getting very close to the wedding, so I’m trying to tie up all the loose ends.”
“No, I’m sorry. You must be mistaken.”
“No brides by the name of Michelle Harris?” Molly pressed.
“Um, no.”
“All right then. I’ll check with her. Thank you anyway!” Molly rang off. She put her elbow on the desk and her chin in her hand.
As if on cue, Misty jumped up onto the desk and rubbed her cheek against her owner’s.
“There’s something going on here, Misty. I just don’t know what it is yet.”
7
Missing Pieces
That evening, Molly sat in the basement of the church with The Hemming Hens. She had been a founding member of this sewing circle, and it served as a lovely distraction. She and the other ladies brought whatever project they were working on as well as a snack to share, and they spent the evening talking about everything under the sun. Their meeting place was a large room with wooden paneling that the church used for holiday dinners and other gatherings. It wasn’t nearly as pretty as the large sanctuary upstairs, but it certainly served its purpose.
“Have you heard about that new grocery store they’re building on the edge of town?” Rose Highwater asked over her needlepoint. “I sure hope it doesn’t put Tilly out of business.”
Tilly’s Store was the place everyone in Calmhaven went for their essentials. Alongside the milk, bread, and eggs, could be found all sorts of strange and wonderful things that Tilly herself curated. She liked to bring something new to their tiny town.
“I don’t think it will,” replied Maude Jessup as she pieced together two tiny triangles for her latest quilt. “Everyone goes to Tilly, and I’m sure they still will when they want to make a small trip. Can’t beat Tilly’s tales either!” Tilly was well known in the town more for her slices of gossip than for her slices of ham or cheese.
Sandra Florington, who kept her hair carefully dyed so that she didn’t quite look her age, gave a boastful look over her glasses. “My grandson has already been interviewed for a job at that new store, and he said they’ll have a curbside pickup service.”
“How does that work?” asked Joyce Treehorn, who had been knitting a rather long sock. “My knees have been killing me lately, and it’s getting harder and harder to make a trip through the store.”
“Haven’t you gotten those fixed yet?” Rose shook her finger at Joyce. “You know, there’s an excellent orthopedic surgeon over in Oak Bridge. He had my brother up and on his feet again in no time.”
Molly worked absentmindedly on her stitching as she listened to the conversation all around her, not really paying attention. Her brain had locked onto the dress disaster and it refused to let go. She enjoyed her time cross stitching; it created beautiful pictures that she liked to give away as Christmas presents and it kept her mind off her busy office, but today she could only stare at the strands of embroidery floss.
Why would Michelle have a postcard from a different dressmaker? If she had just gotten engaged and was in the beginning stages of planning a wedding, then it would make plenty of sense. She might not have decided on a dress just yet and wanted to keep her options open. But the wedding was only a few days away. There was barely enough time to quickly alter a similar dress, much less pick out a completely new one from a different shop in a different town. Had someone from the rival shop broken in and destroyed the dress just so they could get Michelle as a customer? It seemed extreme, but she knew how competitive the wedding business could be.
“Excuse me, ladies. I just need to step out and make a phone call.” Molly left the meeting room and worked her way up the stairs toward the front lobby of the church where an old payphone still graced the old lobby wall, next to the church office. Molly popped a couple of coins in and dialed.
“Miss Molly!” Dora exclaimed as she answered the phone. “Is everything okay? You don’t usually call me in the evenings.”
“I know, dear, and I’m sorry to bother you. I was wondering if you were very busy and if you might be able to do me a favor.”
“Of course.”
“This is going to sound a little strange, so just bear with me. I’d like you to stop by Tilly’s and get a big bouquet of flowers. It doesn’t matter what kind, just something bright and pretty. Take it over to Michelle’s place and tell her that it’s our way of saying how very sorry we are about the inconvenience with the dress. If she doesn’t answer, you might want to check the shed in the back that Renee said she paints in.”
“Okay,” Dora said. “I can do that. And you’re wanting me to do this tonight?”
“Yes. It can’t wait until tomorrow. Keep track of your time and how much you spend at Tilly’s, and I’ll be sure to compensate you for all of it. But here’s the most important part: I need you to come up with some way to see Michelle’s phone. I need to know if she called a certain number recently.”
“Hang on, let me get some paper.” The sound of rustling came over the phone. “Okay. Go ahead.”
Molly recited the number on the back of the postcard from Dressed to Thrill. She had only dialed it once, but it had made her curious enough that she had memorized it easily. “I don’t know how you’re going to do it, but I need to know if and when she called that number. You think you can manage that?” Molly had considered doing it herself when the idea had first come to her, but she struggled when it came to the constantly-changing technology of cell phones.
“I think so. Can I ask why I’m doing this?”
“I’ll explain everything when I can, and I might be completely wrong. Just let me know what you find out. Actually, come to my place for some tea, and we’ll talk.”
Molly attempted to return to the Hemming Hens for a few minutes, since she knew it would take a little time for Dora to get the flowers and get to Michelle’s. But she still couldn’t seem to concentrate, and the pattern was nothing but a blur of colors. “Ladies, I think I’m going to call it a night.”
“You can’t go yet, Miss Molly,” Maude protested. “I haven’t even opened the tin of toffee I made yet.”
“Thanks, but I’ll have to pass regardless.” Molly carefully laid her fabric back in her sewing box and wound her thread around the little plastic winders. “I love your toffee, but it sticks in my teeth for about two weeks.”
The walk home was more pleasant than any
of the other times she’d been on the streets over the last few weeks, since it had stopped raining for the moment. The streets were still flooded with puddles, but at least she didn’t have to fight with an unruly umbrella.
She waited impatiently at home, hoping there would be some sort of news from Dora. She scanned her shelves, looking at the volumes and trying to remember if there were any she’d read that had similarities to the one they were now facing. After all, there was always the possibility that one of the famous authors had based a book or two on real life.
A slow rumble of thunder brought another onslaught of rain just as Dora knocked on the front door. “Come in out of the wet, dear. I’m sorry I had to make you go out and about on such a terrible night.”
“I think I’m getting used to this weather,” Dora explained with a smile. “I must be turning into a duck.”
“Have a seat. I’ve got the kettle warmed and my favorite teacups ready. Do you prefer chamomile or peppermint?”
“Chamomile this time, please.”
Molly was dying to know what her assistant had discovered, but she often felt that big discussions were much easier when everyone was comfortable. There was no point in starting and stopping while Dora took off her boots or while Molly ran back to the kitchen because she forgot the jar of honey. Even Misty had come to understand this ritual, and she stood patiently on the sofa cushion and watched her mistress, waiting for the cue to curl up in Molly’s warm lap. “Now, then. Tell me everything that happened, and don’t leave out a single detail.”
Dora nodded and dutifully began. “I ran down to Tilly’s and got there just before she closed. Fortunately, she still had a wonderful selection of flowers, and I picked up an arrangement of daisies and pink carnations. Tilly wrapped it in some bright pink paper, and it was so beautiful! You know, people don’t really think of daisies and carnations for wedding flowers anymore, just because they’re so inexpensive. But it was a great combination, and maybe we should recommend it to some of our future brides.”
