Part 9 (1/2)
”Yes, ma'am. I'll go right away.”
Frances was smiling when she left the room. So was Charlotte. Perhaps they were smiling for the same reason. Then again, perhaps not.
Lauren had begun to wonder if she had been forgotten by the time Frances returned to the front door. Her smile was wide, excited almost.
”Miss Montgomery is quite pleased with your work. She sends her thanks and insists that I pay you for the work you have done.” Frances handed her a check. ”This is for the first two. I paid you at the same rate we pay the other tailor. With the gray dress, I had no idea how much the rate should be, so I need you to give me a number-either the fair price for the work or the number of hours you put into it.”
”Really, it was done just for the thrill of working on something so magnificent. I couldn't possibly accept pay for that one.”
”We'll see about that.” Frances folded her arms. ”In the meantime, I have a message for you.” She went on to explain that Lauren could use the extra purple sage and was allowed to plant outside the fence, then said, ”Here, I've brought you the key. Let me walk you around and show you the potting shed.” She seemed almost giddy as she led Lauren around the side of the house.
The two women followed the hedge line to a little shed in the side yard. Frances unlocked the door, which squeaked as they opened it. Once they stepped inside, Frances flipped on a switch, and pale light brightened the s.p.a.ce. There were several rows of shelves full of every kind of pot and vase, bags of various plant foods and topsoil, and a neatly aligned row of smaller hand tools.
”Miss Montgomery said you may use anything in here as long as you are using it for the property adjacent to her fence.”
”Okay.” Lauren really didn't have time to play the plant-and-rip-out game again. But for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to give up without another try. ”I'll check back in a couple of days.”
Frances smiled. ”Good. As much as it may not appear that way, I do believe your gesture meant a lot to Miss Montgomery. It's been a long time since someone did something nice for her who didn't want a favor in return.”
”Then I'm glad I did it.” And she meant it. Maybe she really was here for a purpose, after all.
eighteen.
On Wednesday morning, Lauren woke up with a sense of dread. Mr. Rivers had arranged a special deal with one of the fabric stores in the LA Fas.h.i.+on District, but it felt much too soon and too raw for her to return to that area now. Until the dress debacle, those few blocks had been almost a second home to her. Now . . . it was a place she'd rather avoid for a long while. But she needed to finalize her concept for the wedding-dress costume, and she needed the fabric in order to do that. Since she would be in the general area for Chloe's tea this afternoon, it was obviously the right time to do her shopping.
Simply because it gave her a feeling of anonymity, she wore a baseball cap and large sungla.s.ses. She shouldn't have to stay long, and the truth was the area was so crowded, the chance of running into someone she knew was very small indeed. Once she'd survived the Fas.h.i.+on District, the rest of the day would be a happy one. Lauren brought along her dress for the afternoon tea in the back of her SUV. Just the thought of that dress brought a smile.
As she made her way down the 101, she thought that, for once, she wouldn't mind some heavy traffic. Anything to delay the inevitable. Of course, it was the clearest she'd seen the road in years, all the way through to LA. She pulled into the parking garage closest to Leah Rae's Fabrics, hoping for a quick in and out.
As Lauren made her way through several blocks of the fabric and notions stores in The District, the smell of the hot dog and burrito food trucks, the cacophony of many different languages being spoken, and the crowded and dirty sidewalk all reminded her so much of her former life that it was physically painful to be right in the middle of it.
At least now she had hope that she would eventually be cleared of wrongdoing and would be able to return to her life here. Kendall seemed to be moving closer to the proof she needed. It was just a matter of time.
As with many of the fabric stores in the Fas.h.i.+on District, Leah Rae's was packed to capacity with inventory. There were bolts and bolts of fabric standing upright in the middle of the store, with barely a walkway cleared around the perimeter, while the walls were lined by side stacks of some of the more popular fabrics. Lauren knew that the heavier satins and laces were in the very back, so she made her way through the tunnel of fabric, which was packed so tight she had to turn her shoulders at an angle to walk through. She found some beautiful silks, but most were well beyond the school's budget, even at a deep discount. She did find the dove-gray silk charmeuse she was seeking and some faux fur for her patch job on the blue dress. She walked over to check the remnants racks, hoping she might find just the right thing for Guinevere's wedding dress.
The smell and feel of the fabrics had always given her such a feeling of joy, a quirk that she fully acknowledged as odd but embraced nonetheless. She smiled at the memories from previous trips here and was just getting ready to walk away when the most gorgeous white-and-gold brocade satin caught her eye. It was of the very highest quality, thick and l.u.s.trous. The kind of fabric that actually brought tears to her eyes-something Chloe teased her about mercilessly. ”Only girl I know who can sit dry-eyed through a tearjerker but gets downright weepy over a well-done textile.”
Lauren rubbed the fabric between her fingers, remembering that sensation from many years ago when she'd gone to see her very first show at the theater. The Phantom of the Opera. Her mother had managed to land a background part, a real coup, and they had celebrated it with every bit of joy imaginable. And when Lauren had sat out in the audience, when she had seen the amazing dresses that the lead character, Christine, wore, she had cried with happiness. Maybe even back then it had been the sheer beauty of the costumes, although she suspected most therapists would tell her it had more to do with the fact that her mother had a paying job that would keep their rent and electric bill paid and keep her too busy to be out partying and using drugs with her friends in the meantime.
Although that didn't turn out to be completely true, it was the closest thing to security Lauren ever felt when she was with her mother, and it was a memory she cherished. This fabric-well, it provoked the same kind of emotion.
This could work perfectly as the fabric for Guinevere's wedding dress. She checked the price. Since it was marked way down, it was something they could afford. There was enough on the bolt for a full costume and probably even a second. A cape, perhaps? There was a similar fabric beside it-a midnight-blue silk with just a hint of brocade. It, too, was beautiful. Lauren thought of the costumes yet to be made for the show and could not come up with one logical place she might use this, but she couldn't imagine leaving it behind. And then she had a thought. What if she made something for Miss Montgomery?
This fabric would work brilliantly in her collection of antique dresses. Lauren shook her head. Just the thought was ridiculous. Why would Miss Montgomery want to wear something Lauren had made when she had a closet full of the top designers' best work, including Angelina Brownings and Balmains, among others?
For whatever reason, sentimentality or the beauty of the fabric, Lauren picked it up. She tried to make her way up the narrow pa.s.sage while carrying three different bolts, having somewhat comical results. One roll would get caught up, she'd have to maneuver sideways, and then a second roll would get caught on the other side. Step by step, she moved slowly forward. She had reached just about the halfway point when she saw someone rounding the corner. There was no choice in this situation but for the other person to back all the way out. She looked up, smiling apologetically, prepared to make a plea, but then she saw the person's face.
Marsha Flanigan.
Marsha had been in her cla.s.s at the Fas.h.i.+on Inst.i.tute. In fact, Marsha had been second in the cla.s.s-behind only Lauren. She'd never shown anything other than a strong dislike of Lauren and had stated she felt Lauren's talent was overrated. It had only gotten worse when Marsha also applied for one of the interns.h.i.+ps at Deb Couture and was pa.s.sed over. When she found out that Lauren had gotten one of the jobs, she was livid-and very loud about how flawed the selection process had been and how Lauren's ”teacher's pet” status with Professor Navarro and a couple of other professors had allowed her to unfairly move ahead of others who were more deserving. Others meaning Marsha.
”Well, well, well.” Marsha planted herself in the middle of the aisle and just looked at Lauren. ”I must say, I'm surprised to see you here buying fabric. I didn't think there was anyone left in Southern California, or the entire country for that matter, who would want you sewing on a b.u.t.ton, much less creating a piece of clothing.” She looked at the fabric and touched it. ”I remember this fabric from a few years ago-back when it was on trend.”
”Can you please move out of my way, Marsha? I've got places I need to be.”
”Somehow I doubt that.” She rubbed a piece of the blue silk between her fingers. ”Some lucky person who doesn't mind three-year-out-of-date fabric is going to really love this, I'm sure.”
”I'm sure you're right. Now please move.” Lauren had no plans to try to defend herself to Marsha. It was not like she could change Marsha's opinion, anyway.
Marsha did turn and make her way slowly back up toward the front of the store. She seemed to be making a point of walking slowly, stopping occasionally and pretending to check out a fabric or two. ”You know, I got a call from Deb Couture. It seems they have realized they made a mistake-not only in who they hired, which is obvious, but also in who they didn't hire. Which, come to think of it, is obvious, too. Suffice it to say, the job is now being handled by the right person.”
”Well, congratulations, then.”
”When I get back to the workroom this afternoon, I'll be sure to give everyone your best regards.”
”Please do.” By now they had reached the end of the aisle, and Lauren was free to move up to the counter. She did so without looking back.
She set the fabric on the table, had the charmeuse cut, and pointed toward the blue fabric. ”Ring this up separately, please. It's for my own personal use.” She waited until she was leaving the store before she glanced behind her, but Marsha had disappeared into the back of the store. Lauren let out a deep breath and hurried toward her car, praying there would be no more encounters ahead of her.
Thankfully, the drive to her old apartment took long enough for her to calm down from the interaction. She began to review her mental list of next steps for the theater costumes, especially the grand wedding dress. She pictured the fabric draped across the dress form, the placement of the draping tape to mark the neckline, how she wanted the waistline to fall. By the time she made it up the stairs, she had mostly refocused and calmed herself sufficiently to enjoy the afternoon.
Chloe and Rhonda were both in the apartment waiting, and they both jumped up and hugged her as if they had not seen her in years. It felt so good to be with them. It felt like home.
Half an hour later, she was in a significantly better emotional place as she hurried to finish getting ready. She touched up her hair and makeup, then hurried out of the bathroom.
”Look at you. I love your dress.” Rhonda looked up from her mother-of-the-bride to-do list as Lauren made her way into the living room. ”Twirl around and let me see this beautiful ensemble. Did you make it?”
Lauren spun around in a circle, then curtsied before her best friend's mother. ”I made it a couple of years ago. Your daughter threw one of her famous themed parties-this one was for Audrey Hepburn night.” Lauren couldn't help but smile at the memories of all the crazy things Chloe had come up with over the years. Jasper was in for an adventure, that much was certain.
Her dress was made from a pale green chiffon with black polka-dots-yet another fabric Lauren had found on the remainder rack. She had made a wide sash out of black taffeta to go with it and trimmed the neck and armholes in black taffeta piping. The skirt was full and fell down to just above her ankles. She had to admit, she did feel a bit fabulous wearing it. Once again, she was reminded why she preferred fas.h.i.+on history to today's couture.
”Ready for some tea, girls?” Rhonda asked.
Lauren followed Rhonda and Chloe in her own car so she could head back to Santa Barbara after today's event. She pulled into the parking lot, looking forward to the afternoon ahead. The Great Dane, a small Danish bakery, had a special upstairs room just for their high teas. The white wicker furniture, gla.s.s tabletops, and floral wallpaper gave the room an old Victorian feel. Lauren wondered if the inside of Charlotte Montgomery's home was anything like this. Somehow she doubted there was anything warm or cozy where that woman was concerned.
It was just the three of them, plus Zandy, another friend of Chloe's, who met them there. ”Isn't this fun?” Rhonda said as they took their seats. ”This is the nice thing about a small wedding. You can afford to do some little extra things like this.”
Soon the waitress brought over a variety of teas for them to sample, as well as a three-tiered tray of food. On the top layer was a variety of scones, the middle layer held various kinds of finger sandwiches, and the bottom layer held all sorts of sweets and treats. ”This looks amazing,” Lauren gushed. Soon the four of them were laughing, sipping tea, and eating little bites of all sorts of deliciousness.
”I wonder why this tradition stopped. Tea time, I mean.” Chloe looked around the spa.r.s.ely filled room rather dreamily.
”Well, I suppose it's because we're all so rushed these days. No one has the time to sit around and relax over tea, sandwiches, and cakes anymore,” Rhonda said.