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.
Rebecca shook her head. “I can see I’m going to have to have a talk with those young men,” she said. She tried to look stern but as usual couldn’t quite keep the smile from around her eyes.
“So we’ll head to Red Wing next Friday?” Roma said, looking from me to Rebecca.
“Yes,” I said.
Rebecca hesitated for a moment and then nodded.
Roma drove us home. She dropped off Rebecca first. The older woman undid her seat belt and turned partway around in the seat. “Thank you,” she said. “I don’t know what I’d do without the two of you. You’re angels.”
I leaned forward; Roma leaned back. We tipped our heads together and folded our hands under our chins and looked at Rebecca with our most angelic expressions—which probably looked a lot as though our brains had just run out of our noses.
Rebecca laughed and shook her head again. “You’re also very silly.”
I straightened up and brushed my hair back off my face. “I know I sound like a broken record, but we will find a dress.” I held up three fingers. “Librarian’s honor.”
Her eyes flicked over to Roma. “It’s sweet how she thinks I believe that, isn’t it?”
Roma laughed. “It is.” She leaned over and hugged Rebecca. “I’ll talk to you before Friday and we’ll decide on a time.”
I reached forward and gave Rebecca’s shoulder a squeeze. “Come for tea on Sunday,” I said.
“Call me,” she said. She climbed out of the SUV and waved good night. Roma waited until she was safely inside before she backed out of the driveway.
“Do you really think we’re going to find a dress for Rebecca in Red Wing?” she asked.
I adjusted my seat belt a little tighter. “I hope so,” I said. “I wish there was some way to persuade Everett to give up on his idea of a wedding extravaganza.”
Roma waited for a half-ton and a car to go by before she backed onto the street. “I thought it was the woman who was supposed to turn into Bridezilla, not the groom.”
“It’s not that Everett is Bridezilla—or Groomzilla—exactly. It’s just that he’s got the idea that Rebecca should have the wedding she didn’t have when they were young. And he’s so happy he wants the whole world to know.”
I caught her smile in the rearview mirror. “It’s really kind of sweet, when you think about it,” she said.
I nodded slowly. “It is. All those years apart and they’re still crazy about each other.”
“So, why are some couples like Rebecca and Everett when others end up like Burtis and Dayna Chapman?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Look at my parents. They were married, got divorced, then got married again. My mother said what she learned was that she didn’t want a man she could live with. She wanted a man she couldn’t live without.”