Diana Palmer - Christmas Wishes Part 3

Pulling back the curtain, I motion to Bessie that I’m undressed. My skin breaks out in goose bumps despite the heating in the shop, half from nerves and half from cold. There’s no mirror in the change room, so the girls will see the dress on before I do.

Bessie steps into the small space with me, and slides the curtain closed. She carefully unzips the side of the dress. “So, you’ll need to step into it, Lil, and then I’ll pull it up, and you gently ease your arms in the sleeves.”

“OK.”

Bessie holds the dress as I gently stand inside like she instructed. It’s like a creamy wave at my feet.

“Here we go, Lil. Stand up straight, and I’ll pull it up, and we can see how it fits.”

I hold my arms out as Bessie glides the dress over my body, and zips it up. She fluffs it out at my feet. It feels deliciously smooth cascading down my body. I run my hands softly down the side. It’s so different from when I had a fitting three weeks ago, when there were pins holding it roughly together.

“How does it feel?”

“Like perfection,” I say almost inaudibly.

Bessie stands back to survey me, before straightening the neckline, and pinching the satin on one side to make it even. She stands back again and folds her arms. With a grin she whispers, “They’re going to cry, Lil. When they see how beautiful you look.”

I’m grinning like a fool as excitement courses through me. “Do I really look beautiful?” I think of myself compared with the other girls as more of a plain Jane. But on my wedding day, I want to be glamorous. I want to make the extra effort so Damon catches his breath when he sees me, a vision in satin, walking down the aisle to him.

Bessie gives me a kind smile. “Lil, beautiful doesn’t even sum it up. Wait until you see it. You are a show-stopper.”

I nod my thanks, not trusting myself to speak as my emotions roil around.

“What’s going on in there?” Missy screeches. “Enough with the oohing and aahing — we want to see this masterpiece!”

I take a deep breath and smooth the fabric, wishing with all my heart that CeeCee were on the other side of the curtain with the girls. Bessie fusses with the train and says, “Ready?”

Nervous, I say, “Yes.”

She inches out of the change room and says, “I give you the soon-to-be Mrs. Guthrie.” Slowly she inches the curtain across. I step out of the change room.

The girls gasp, high and loud. Missy covers her mouth with her hand as her eyes go wide.

“Oh, golly, Lily-Ella that’s absolutely…” Mamma chokes back a sob “…stunning! No one is going to be able to take their eyes off of you.” Tears fall down her face, as she cries unabashedly.

“Thank you, Mamma. Don’t cry! You’ll start Missy off again!” I swallow back my own tears. I have a feeling Bessie’s made some kind of magic happen for me.

“It’s too late,” Mamma sobs.

Sarah laughs; her eyes are glassy too. “Golly, this crying jag is contagious! Lil, I haven’t seen a dress so dazzling before. The way the bias hugs your curves…”

“Wait.” I hold a finger up. “Do you want to see the back?”

Missy screeches yes.

I turn slowly, careful not to step on the train.

“Sweet Jesus!” Missy yells. “Lil! You’re killing me! Give me the box of tissues! ” Sarah laughs and hands her the tissue box. “Lil, I’ve seen a lot of wedding dresses before, but nothing like this. It’s out of this world, stunning ! You’re making me yell because I’m so freaking happy!”

Bessie laughs at Missy. “Happy yelling is a good thing. Lil, are you ready to see yourself?”

“Yes, I am!”

The girls gather behind me as Bessie wheels over a mirror that’s covered with a sheet.

“OK, one, two, three.” Bessie angles the mirror to my height, and pulls down the sheet.

My heart skips a beat as I take in the sight of myself in the mirror. The dress looks every inch as stunning as it feels. The beads along the front blink at me like friends. The satin shimmers as I touch it again, my hands drawn to the silky feel. “Bessie…” I can’t form words. The girl in the mirror doesn’t look like me. She’s been replaced with a blond-haired girl draped in a creamy satin vision, her cheeks are flushed, and her blue eyes bright with happiness.

The girls giggle behind me. “Goddess, right?” Missy says.

“I’m completely besotted by it. Thank you, Bessie.” I turn to her. “I knew it would be amazing, but this is just…”

“Ravishing?” Sarah adds. “Spectacular? Captivating? I can keep going.”

I laugh. “Yes, all of those.”

Bessie smoothes down her own dress. “I’m glad you like it, Lil.”

“I love it. I don’t want to take it off. It’s not only the look of it, it’s the way it feels.” What I don’t say is how different it is from my first wedding dress, which was all puffy sleeves, a voluminous frou-frou affair. This gown, being cut on the bias, accentuates my country-girl curves in a way that makes me feel beautiful. I can’t wait to lock eyes with Damon as I enter the church, and walk to him, to my future.

Mamma dabs at her eyes. “Bessie, sometimes I think you should be in Paris, or Milan, or one of those fashion capitals, not stuck here in Ashford, but I’m mighty glad you are. You’ve made my daughter’s wedding day even more perfect.”

Bessie smiles. “I wouldn’t last five minutes in a big town. But thank you, it was my pleasure. It’s not often I get to make a bridal gown, so when I do it’s extra fun for me.”

Sarah says, “Let’s take a few photos. Maybe CeeCee might like to see them?”

“Aww, that’s lovely,” Mamma says as Sarah pulls out her phone.

The girls smooth out the small train, and I beam, for once happy to be photographed.

“Right,” I say once they’ve snapped away. “Let’s see you girls in your bridesmaid dresses!”

Chapter Nine

Two days

The next morning, I wake an hour before my alarm. It’s dark out and the wind is so fierce the shutters shake and woo as if there’s an eerie presence outside. I know it’s only my worry over CeeCee that’s making me feel uneasy. I creep from under the covers so I don’t wake Damon. I’d spent the better half of the night trying to call her but her phone went straight to voicemail.

In the pitch-black room, I fumble for some clothes as quietly as I can. It’s too early for Damon to wake, and he has his bachelor party tonight and will probably be out much later than me. I’ll be with the girls, having our movie marathon, and make-up trial ay Missy’s house. I scrawl him a quick note to let him know I’ve gone in to work early.

Ten minutes later, I’m showered and dressed and race to my truck; the cold outside steals the air from my lungs. It seems every winter gets that little bit more frozen, and I’m careful not to slip on the fresh snowfall. The truck door makes an almighty creak as I pull it open and I wince, hoping I haven’t woken Damon up. Though the truck doing its usual three-minute warm-up to start will wake up anyone in the vicinity who’s not a deep sleeper.

“Come on .” I push the accelerator and try to cajole the motor to roar into life. I turn the heat up, but it comes out in a frosty cloud until the motor warms.

Finally, it decides to start, and I reverse out, thinking I may as well have walked by the time it’s taken to get the truck to comply. Driving at a snail’s pace, I focus on the road, lest I suddenly slip and lose control.

I chug down the street, wiping the inside of the windscreen as I go. The main street is sleepy with no one about; as I drive closer the lights from the Gingerbread Café shine out. She’s there. I knew she would be. When something’s eating at CeeCee she bakes. We both do.