Софи Келли - A Midwinter's Tail

“And I don’t have the bosom for a strapless wedding dress, either,” Rebecca said. “That ship sailed . . . and sank.”

It took a moment for me to realize that she was making a joke. Then I saw her blue eyes twinkling at me in the visor mirror.

After I’d stopped laughing I leaned forward on the seat and put one hand on Rebecca’s shoulder. “Okay, no strapless dresses. In fact, how about no wedding gowns at all? Let’s just find you something you like so you can marry the man who’s been in love with you since you were six.”

Rebecca put her hand over mine and gave it a squeeze. “That sounds wonderful, my dear,” she said.

“Kathleen, have you talked to Marcus today?” Roma asked. “Have they figured out if it was an allergic reaction that killed Burtis’s ex-wife?”

“It looks that way,” I said.

“The police were at Olivia Ramsey’s business most of the day,” Rebecca said. “Earl had to cancel his lunch run.”

Earl was the Earl of Sandwich, who ran two lunch trucks and shared kitchen space with Olivia’s business, Decadence Chocolatier, and Georgia Tepper’s cupcake bakery, Sweet Thing.

“So they were looking for what? Nuts?” Roma said, turning right toward Mayville Heights’ downtown shopping district.

“That’s what Olivia said.” I started watching for a parking spot. “I talked to her this morning.”

“Heavens! They let her out of the hospital already?” Rebecca half turned in her seat.

I nodded. “Her reaction wasn’t as severe as Dayna’s.”

“I’m sorry that Dayna didn’t make it,” she said. “But I can’t help wondering, why now, of all times, did she decide to come back to Mayville Heights?”

“Maybe she just wanted to see her children,” Roma said. A half-ton truck was pulling out of a parking spot just ahead of us and she slowed to let it out so we could take the space.

“Maybe,” Rebecca said, though she didn’t really sound convinced.

I didn’t say anything, even though I’d been wondering the same thing.

It was busy downtown. I wasn’t surprised. Even though it was early December, I knew a lot of people were doing their Christmas shopping. Thorsten and his crew had spent the first of the week hanging wreaths and twinkling lights, and the entire downtown looked like a scene from an old Christmas card.

When we stepped inside Abel’s, I heard Rebecca sigh softly. Even if we didn’t find a dress for the wedding, I wanted her to have fun looking. I thought about the times I’d gone shopping with my sister, Sara, back in Boston, or with Maggie here. I couldn’t remember what I’d bought on any of the trips, but I did remember laughing a lot.

I smiled at Avis, the store owner, who was behind the cash register. “We need to look around a little,” I said.

She pushed her silver-framed glasses up her nose and smiled back at me. “Take your time, Kathleen,” she said. “Let me know when you need my help.”

We spent about fifteen minutes just looking, Roma and me pulling out dresses and holding them up for Rebecca’s reaction. Very quickly I realized that she didn’t like anything with lace or ruffles. Mostly she twisted her mouth to one side or just shook her head. Even so, I managed to come up with five possibilities.

I hung them in an empty dressing room. “Try the first one on and then come out so Roma and I can see you.”

“What if I don’t like the dress?” Rebecca said.

I put my hands on my hips and mock-glared at her. “Don’t make me come back in here and drag you out, because I will.” I got a mental image of myself trying to pull petite Rebecca out to the three-sided, full-length mirror. It was hard to keep a straight face.

Rebecca must have been picturing the same thing. “Yes, ma’am,” she said gravely, but her mouth twitched with the beginning of a smile.

I went out and sat next to Roma on the bench just inside the dressing room area.

“How did the lecture go this morning?” Roma asked.

“Very well. We had a full house,” I said. “And when Abigail and I took Vincent to lunch, he offered to come back at some point for another talk.”

“That has to be good,” Roma commented, pushing her dark hair behind one ear.

I nodded and rubbed my left shoulder with my other hand. “It is.” I didn’t have to say “but.” Roma heard the word without me speaking.

“I’m sorry about the fundraiser.”

“Me too,” I said. “We’re going to refund all the ticket money. Lita will be mailing the checks on Monday. You should get it by the middle of the week.”

“I don’t want the money back,” Roma said.

“You gave me a donation,” I said, firmly, wondering if Maggie would have a couple of minutes to use her long, strong fingers on my shoulder tomorrow. “And Eddie arranged for Jazzology. I’m not keeping your ticket money, or anyone else’s for that matter. No one got what they paid for.”

“Has anyone ever pointed out that you can be really stubborn sometimes?”

I grinned at her and leaned back against the wall. “Marcus might have pointed it out—one or two . . . dozen times.”

Roma laughed. “Things are good between you two?”

I felt my cheeks get warm and I ducked my head. “Very good,” I said, giving her a sideways glance.

She leaned over and bumped me with her shoulder. “I’m glad,” she said with a smile. “Sometimes I did wonder if you two were ever going to get it together.”

Rebecca came out of the dressing room then. She was wearing the first dress of the five, an inky navy dress with long bell-shaped sleeves and a full skirt.

“I feel like I should be conducting an orchestra,” Rebecca said, raising her arm and swinging the sweeping sleeve through the air.

“I like the dress,” Roma said.

“But not for a wedding,” we both said at the same time.

I gestured toward the dressing room. “Next.”

The second and third dresses weren’t quite right, either, but when Rebecca walked out in the fourth one I was actually at a loss for words for a moment.

“Oh, Rebecca,” Roma said softly beside me.

She looked beautiful. The dress was a soft rose color with long, semi-sheer sleeves, a round neckline and a long, slim skirt. It was simple and elegant and very Rebecca.

“What do you think, Kathleen?” Rebecca asked.

“I love it,” I said. “What’s important is what do you think?”

She turned to study her reflection in the three-sided mirror. “It is pretty,” she said. Then she frowned. “But it’s not very fancy. It’s not the kind of dress for the wedding Everett is planning.”

She held up a hand as if to hold off the words she knew I was about to say. “I know you think I should tell Everett I want to scale way back on the wedding, but it’s so important to him. I don’t want to take that away from him.”

I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a hug. “You really are the nicest person I know,” I said. “And we will find you a dress. I promise.”

Rebecca tried on four more dresses, but none of them were quite right and none of them looked as beautiful as that simple, rose-colored dress. We left Abel’s empty-handed.

“We still have time,” I said as we walked back to the car.

Roma nodded. “Why don’t we drive over to Red Wing next Friday night?”

“Shouldn’t you two be spending time with the men in your lives?” Rebecca asked.

Roma laughed as she unlocked the SUV. “The guy in my life is spending his time with a bunch of smelly, sweaty hockey players. Most of whom don’t have any front teeth.”

“Hey, mine, too,” I said, grinning at her over the hood of the car. Marcus was playing in the annual Winterfest Hockey Classic, and practices had started the previous Monday night.