I felt Bev’s pronouncement with a visceral stab, as if it were a long pin popping and deflating my wedding balloon hopes. Hopes I wasn’t even aware I’d had minutes ago.
Bev seemed to realize her words had wounded me and rushed on. “You could pair it with a chocolate velvet jacket or a butternut scarf for your fall wedding. It would be perfect for the rehearsal dinner, before the big day when you don a gown befitting of your prowess as a wedding planner.”
I felt my head numbly bob up and down in shocked agreement. I had indeed just revealed to Bev that Garrett and I had chosen a fall palette. Bev did know my style, but also what made the most impact, from collaborating with me on dozens of weddings. I dimly wondered if Bev’s resistance to this pretty dress stemmed from a not-so-hidden motive. I bet Bev wanted me to purchase my dress from her store. Not for any crass reasons, like earning a sale, but for the experience of helping a dear friend choose her own special dress. Bev seemed to read my mind, confirming my hunch.
“Of course I will dress you!” Bev clapped her hands together at the prospect.
I laughed and found myself reluctantly joining in Bev’s enthusiasm. I remembered trying on wedding gowns as a stunt double for my friend Olivia’s wedding. Bev had hundreds of sample gowns in her shop, and I was sure to find the perfect attire for the cozy fall wedding I’d envisioned.
“Yes, of course I will get a dress from your shop, Bev. The sundress is lovely, but maybe not for a wedding. Especially since a fall ceremony will need a slightly more dramatic dress to compete with the foliage.”
I reluctantly made up my mind and turned my back firmly against the ethereal sundress. My fingers were drawn to a display of vintage earrings hanging from wicker birdcage bars. The heavy, crystal stalactites seemed to help anchor me back in reality after I’d gone gaga over the impractical sundress.
Bev let out a squeal of delight. “Yes, this is your style, Mallory. We’ll find a gown befitting these beauties. Satin for fall, or maybe even a rich brocade if you stray into November.” She wiggled her eyebrows impatiently, the neat blond arches dancing above her rhinestone cat’s-eye purple spectacles. “We’ll know exactly the right look to go for, if you ever nail down the darn wedding date!”
A pretty trill of baby laughter announced June’s arrival. The owner of the Antique Emporium was a foster mom, and today a delightfully cooing infant peered at us from her perch in the front-facing baby carrier. June carefully approached us, weaving expertly among her room of things, giving some items a loving pat. June Battles had an affinity for history, just like her daughter Tabitha, who ran the historical society. While Tabitha curated items for posterity and the public good, June just happened to sell them and match them up with new owners.
“Hello, Bev and Mallory.” June swooped in for a hug, treating me to the sweet smell of baby lotion. The baby made a swipe for one of the crystal earrings I held in my hand.
“That’s the only occupational hazard to contend with when I bring Miri to work with me.” June chuckled as she extricated the crystal prism from the baby’s grasping hand. “Everything in this store looks like a shiny toy to a six-month-old.” The infant’s visage dimmed for a moment, before June expertly replaced the earring with a buzzing rattle. Miri laughed and turned her attention to the toy.
“I couldn’t help but see how taken you were with this item, Mallory.” June gestured toward the ethereal sundress, and gently turned me around when I refused to follow her gaze. I did, however, take in the momentary scowl on Bev’s face.
“I’m not certain this dress will work for the fall wedding I’ve tentatively planned,” I murmured to June. I shouldn’t have turned back around. I found myself falling in love all over again with the sundress, practicality be damned. It would be ridiculous to plan a whole wedding around this budget find. But I realized with a start I encouraged the couples I worked with to do just that.
“And I think the crystal earrings would actually work quite well with the sundress.” June nimbly plucked an earring from the birdcage and held it up in the air above the sundress, where the earring would hang when worn by the woman lucky enough to purchase the pretty garment.
“Hm. It’s eclectic, but it would work!” I felt my excitement growing and kindled all over again. Bev wasn’t so subtle this time. Her groan caused Elvis to wake again, his doggie head swiveling back and forth between gazing at his owner and at June and me.
“Yes, Mallory.” June shared in my excitement. “The sundress is casual, and the crystal earrings are formal. The two would be an unlikely pairing, but the juxtaposition would be interesting and unexpected.” June’s eyes quickly took me in before she turned her keen gaze to the dress. “You wouldn’t even need to alter it, I bet. It’s vintage, from the early 1960s. It would complement your figure perfectly.” June deftly unzipped the dress from the dress form. She swiveled around quickly to hand me the garment just out of baby Miri’s sticky grasp.
“Thank you.” I heard a certain note of reverence in my voice. I held the dress against my even more informal coral skirt and striped tank top and peered into a gilt mirror affixed to the wall.
It was truly a magical dress. I performed an impetuous, joyful spin and my doppelganger in the mirror broke out in an infectious grin. I recalled the not-quite-right ball gown my would-be mother-in-law Helene had once strong-armed me into choosing.
This dress was made for you.
I finally took in Bev’s terse smile hovering just behind me in the mirror.
“Or this could be a perfect rehearsal look for Mallory,” Bev put in flatly. “Or the starting inspiration for Mallory’s eventual gown choice. But not for the main event.”
June shrugged, seeming to wish to avoid a fight over a sundress. “Maybe you’re right. This pretty little thing might not have enough stature for a big autumn wedding. And you are Port Quincy’s dress expert, my dear.” June gave Bev’s arm a knowing pat without a hint of condescension.
I felt a bubble of annoyance drift up just as Bev relaxed. My friend’s wedding-gown expertise was duly noted, and territory over my dress choice was ceded. Before I could protest, June sent me a subtle wink. I felt my bubble of annoyance burst and gave a relieved laugh. June had an impressive and well-honed emotional IQ and had defused the situation expertly. As much as I adored Bev and usually sought out her wedding-gown expertise, I wasn’t giving up my dream dress without a fight. A diplomatic, well-meaning fight.
I smiled at both women. “I’ll think about the dress, June. It would certainly work well as a rehearsal dinner look, or even a second reception dress. I’ll talk it over with Garrett, and probably be back.” A wave of relief washed over me as we all pondered the dress. I instantly felt better after announcing my intentions to purchase the dress soon. As a wedding planner, I was used to making quick and decisive recommendations for my brides. But I needed a smidge more time for myself. I’d purchase the dress after chatting with my fiancé and decide later how I’d incorporate it into my wedding celebrations, whether as the starring centerpiece of my look, or merely a bit player. A shiver stole down my spine as I recalled the wedding I’d called off several summers ago. Unbeknownst to me at the time, the experience had kicked off my wedding-planner career. I wasn’t going to be strong-armed into making decisions about this wedding, the only one I planned on ever having.
“Anything else for you?” June glanced at Bev’s overflowing basket of flower-themed wares with keen approval.
“These earrings, too.” I reached beyond June to pluck a pair of heavy crystal earrings that had remained on the birdcage. These ones were faceted briolettes in the shape of fat teardrops, clear yet carved enough to throw off some subtle sparkle.
June’s eyes went wide as she took in the set. “I didn’t think I’d put these out. Pia must have found them.” She looked as if she wanted to make a grab for the jewelry, and I wondered if I’d be able to purchase them after all.
June confirmed my suspicions. She leaned in closer for a better look and r
ewarded me with another baby-powder whiff from Miri. “There’s supposed to be a necklace that matches this very pair.” She tut-tutted and shook her head. “I promise to find the missing crystal necklace that goes with these beauties. For now, I’ll hold on to them for safekeeping and eventually sell it to you as a set!” Before I could stop her, June grabbed the pretty baubles as if she were a magpie alighting on a particularly glittery find.
I followed June to the front of the store, exchanging a shrug with Bev. Elvis finally woke up for good, and trotted dutifully behind his mistress, his droopy basset ears nearly skimming the rose-patterned carpet of the antiques store. His short little legs needed to churn to keep up. Maybe June really was holding back on the sale of the earrings until she found the matching necklace. The pieces would look stunning on my big day, whether I ended up pairing them with the sundress or not.
And before I could give the incident of snatching back the earrings another thought, a pint-sized version of June arrived on the scene.
“There. This is the last heap of stuff from the northwest corner of the basement.” The girl before me set a stack of ancient luggage down on a wide oak table in the center of the store. A pillar of dust rose from her column of suitcases. June wheeled around to cover baby Miri until the dust had literally settled.
June leaned over to plant a kiss on the dirt-smudged cheek of the pretty girl wearing an incongruous crown of dust bunnies. “Pia, my little ragamuffin.” She spoke the term with much love.
“You need to get a little dirty working in an antique store, Mom.” The pretty redhead smiled up at her mom. Both women sported auburn locks, but June’s were cropped short and threaded with silver. The young woman’s tresses were bound in a low ponytail.
“I’ll have you know I run a tight ship around here,” June protested, gesturing to the almost-cluttered but also orderly store. “My mother, Claudia, is in charge of inventory in the basement, and let’s just say I didn’t inherit my organizing genes from her.”
I realized with a start that Pia must be my good friend Tabitha’s younger sister. Tabitha, the town historian, chose to dye her hair a striking Ariel-the-mermaid red, while Pia’s looked like her natural color, a subtler shade of auburn. Tabitha was a whole head taller than Pia, just like my sister, Rachel, who towered over me.
“Let’s see what you found.” June bounced a now-fussy Miri as she anxiously awaited the opening of the luggage.
“They were pretty heavy.” Pia started with a pretty pink leather hatbox. The pale-shell shade of the leather and smooth grain of the luggage made it look like a giant makeup compact. “Hm.” Inside the box was another hatbox, this one a more daring magenta. Pia let out a laugh as she found yet another, smaller hatbox within, this one a light pink with magenta polka dots, marrying the colors of the two larger pieces encasing them.
“They’re like girly luggage Russian nesting dolls.” I blurted out my assessment as Pia opened the last hatbox.
“Nada.” Pia’s expectant look deflated as she patted the inside of the hatbox.
“The set is gorgeous, though,” Bev cooed. “I would love to purchase this, too! All cleaned up, these three hatboxes would make a darling addition to my wedding trousseau.”
I knew Bev and Jesse were headed to Williamsburg, Virginia, with Bev’s teenage son, Preston, for her honeymoon.
June blushed again. “They’re all yours. But please don’t pick them up until tomorrow, when I’ve had a chance to scrub off all of the accumulated grime.” She made to swipe a finger through the dust adorning the bright luggage, then stopped herself at the last second. She couldn’t suppress a shudder, though. I realized that though the store was chockablock full of antiques, everything was meticulously polished and pristine with nary a speck of dust anywhere. Well, until Pia had brought up the luggage.
“Claudia promised me she’d get the basement under control.” June rolled her eyes and gestured below her. “My mom doesn’t keep the most meticulous records. The upstairs of the Antique Emporium is my domain. I like to think of this floor as carefully ordered chaos. But Claudia’s basement? Pfft.”June shook her head. “That’s true chaos.”
A small frown stole over Pia’s pretty face. She had a chameleon look, sometimes recalling the sharper features of her sister, Tabitha. At other angles, she favored her mother’s slightly softer features. “Grandma Claudia finds the neatest stuff, though, Mom. She has the best eye of the three of us. You can’t argue with that.”
June seemed to melt at the defense of her mother given by her daughter. “Fair enough, sweetie. The three of us make a great team.”
I beamed at her admission. It was fun to imagine three generations of women working together in this store. Though I’d never set eyes on Pia until this very day. I knew she’d been away at college in Washington, D.C.
“Hold up.” Pia bit her lower lip as she patted the inside of the last hatbox. “Do you feel something?” Her slim fingers hovered over a slight split in the top panel of the luggage. There seemed to be a barely perceptible rent in the now faded, but once-lurid red satin lining the hatbox.
“Ooh, let me see.” Bev ran her plump and capable fingers over the torn fabric. “I can fix this right up. But I think I know what you mean, Pia. Maybe there’s something in there?”
The nested hatboxes seemed to contain even more surprises.
“This is like a little treasure hunt.” Pia ran her hands over the interior of the hatbox once more, her eyes lighting up. Bev took her turn, trying to smoosh her rather plump fingers into the tiny slit in the fabric. She gave up a moment later. “Mallory, can you get in there? I don’t want to tear the fabric any more.”
I slid my ring and pinky fingers into the tear in the faded satin.
Pay dirt.
My fingers connected with some kind of soft fabric, smooshed down at the bottom of the hatbox’s top panel. I felt a thrill of excitement ripple through me, heralding what seemed like a portentous occasion.
Don’t be silly.
“What is it?” The three other women crowded around me as I worked on extricating what felt like a soft bundle of flattened fabric. Even baby Miri looked mildly curious as she gummed her silicone rattle.
“I almost have it.” In a final whoosh I pulled out a swath of stunning and ancient-looking lace. The fabric kept coming and coming, much like a silk tie produced by a magician performing a trick.
“It’s just gorgeous.” Bev stood back reverently as I spread the swath of antique lace out on a second, pristinely clean table. “It’s the perfect length to serve as a long bridal veil.” Bev appeared just as smitten with the fabric as I was.
“Is this for sale?” I heard the catch in my voice as I stated my query. The pretty sundress was long forgotten now that I was smoothing out this lovely and intricate piece of lace.
“Yes!” Pia gave her blessing and promptly gave way to a sneezing fit. “I mean, is that okay, Mom?”
June handed her daughter a tissue and paused for a second as she turned her keen eyes on the runner of lace. “Of course, honey.”
“It’s a bit aged,” Bev mused as she traced a delicate star pattern around the edge of the fabric. The pretty lace was largely intact, with only a few snags in the delicate pattern. But the fabric had mellowed over who knew how many years into a deep champagne color. “Nothing a little OxiClean won’t gussy up!”
“No!” This time both June and Pia yelped at the same time. Baby Miri gave a little jump in her carrier.
“It’s too delicate for that,” June clarified, a bit more gently.
“I guess we could take it to a fabric restorer,” I chimed in. I knew such a person existed since I’d had some work done on the turn-of-the-century tapestries in my inherited mansion.
“We?” Bev turned to me with a hopeful gleam in her eyes.
“Of course! I can see how much you love it, too.” I cocked my head and regarded the veil. “Is this something you’d want to wear on your big day? You could wear it in July, and I cou
ld wear it in the fall. It’s even long enough to ask the fabric restorer about dividing it in half.” Bev nodded enthusiastically at my ideas. But I caught June’s wince at my suggestion to divvy up the lace into two pieces.
June recovered nicely. “I’d be honored if you two ladies wore this veil at your weddings.” She pivoted and reached an arm around Pia, who had succeeded in brushing much of the dust from her sleeves and hair. “My Pia knows a thing or two about weddings.”
Pia blushed and wriggled out from under her mother’s embrace. “That was my part-time job in D.C., but this summer is dedicated to helping you make sense of all the inventory Grandma Claudia has stashed in the basement. Until I get a full-time job, that is.” She smiled. “Hopefully back in D.C.”
“You have event-planning experience?” My spidey senses perked up. My sister, Rachel, and I were looking for a new assistant to help us with our ever-burgeoning slate of weddings, parties, and events. We were thrilled to expand our business, but we’d reached the point of turning away new gigs because we didn’t have enough hands on deck.
“Just a bit. I’ve assisted eight weddings, a few retirements, and planned two baby showers on my own.” Pia grew less bashful as she described the work she’d done as an assistant in D.C. on the weekends.
“She even has a digital portfolio of her work,”June gushed. She dashed behind the front counter rife with glittering estate jewelry pieces and emerged triumphant with a slim tablet. “Look!”
Pia narrowed her eyes at her mother, then burst out laughing. “I see what you’re doing, Mom.” She included Bev and me in her amused gaze. “Now that I’ve graduated college, I’m here for the summer to help out. But then back to D.C. I go. Not that you’d have any openings in your wedding planning business anyway.”
“As it so happens, I do have an opening for an assistant.” I murmured this as I flicked through Pia’s extensive résumé and accompanying photos in her digital portfolio. “You have a wonderful eye.” The photos displayed nuanced and fresh table settings and layouts.
Veiled in Death Page 2
