Part 15 (1/2)
She picked up the wedding gown, which had been a.s.sembled and fitted. She was now deep in the process of the hand beading. She bent and straightened her fingers a few times, trying to get them limbered up for the job ahead, and then she turned on her little television. She liked having noise while she worked.
Today the cla.s.sic movie channel was showing Pillow Talk, with Doris Day and Rock Hudson. Perfect. Beautiful costumes mixed with a little comedy was just what she needed on a day like today. She pulled out her OttLite with magnification so she could see the tiniest detail of her work.
A knock sounded at the door. The only other time this had happened had been over a week ago, and Kendall Joiner had been here. Lauren considered sitting where she was and continuing with her work so that Kendall would get the hint and just keep moving. She finally decided it was best to end this once and for all, so she carefully set the dress aside. She hurried across the small room, letting her anger work her up until she was ready to take a hard stand, leaving Kendall absolutely no doubt that she meant it this time.
She jerked open the door, ready to launch into her refusal. She stopped cold when she saw who was standing there. Frances, her face drawn and unhappy.
”Frances? What brings you here? Do you want to come in?” Lauren gestured inside.
Frances followed her in, looked around, and shook her head. ”Well, I . . . this is where you live now?”
”I needed a short-term lease, something I could afford, and a safe neighborhood. This place fits the bill.”
Frances frowned. ”I'm sorry you didn't get to stay in the cottage. It was nice having a friendly face in the neighborhood.”
”Yeah, well, you may be the only one who felt that way.”
”You'd be surprised.” Frances stared at her for a long moment. ”Which brings me to why I'm here. I've come to invite you to have dinner with Miss Montgomery tomorrow night.”
”Dinner? Really? The last time I was over there it was for tea, and it didn't end so well.”
”Yes, I know, and I'm sorry about that.”
”Frances, I do appreciate the invitation-please tell Miss Montgomery that I really do-it's just that I'm crazy busy with the theater work right now, and I just don't-”
”Please come. Don't let the past keep you from giving her one more chance to be the person that she can be.”
”I really . . .” Lauren did not want to go, but she knew what Rhonda would say. She would say that the people who most need love are sometimes the most reluctant to receive it. She would say not to give up when you believe you've been called to something. She would say to go forth and s.h.i.+ne your light. Lauren knew that she should give it one more try, even if it was only to confirm what she knew to be the truth: Miss Montgomery did not want anything to do with her. ”Sure. I'd be honored.”
Frances nodded. ”Good. Tomorrow night at eight.”
”I a.s.sume I am supposed to dress appropriately?” She smiled at Frances, remembering the invitation to tea.
”Miss Montgomery does dress for dinner, as you know. She doesn't expect you to wear a full-length vintage gown, but I would suggest your Sunday best. That said, when Willow eats dinner there, she wears jeans and a T-s.h.i.+rt. I think she does it just to prove that she's not going to let someone else tell her what she can and can't do.”
”Well, I'll try to find something suitable.”
Frances nodded once more and backed out the door. ”I'm glad I've gotten the chance to know you.” Lauren watched as she held tight to the splintery bannister and made her way down the steps.
thirty.
It's all set, then?” Charlotte attempted to work a few loose strands of her blond hair into her French twist. Her fingers didn't cooperate like they used to. Neither did her hair, which had taken on a wiry texture in addition to the gray color she spent so much time and energy keeping covered up. She shook her head and sighed. Couldn't nature leave at least something in order while time took away everything else?
Frances hurried over to help her. She worked the strands back in and secured them with a pin. ”Yes, ma'am. It's all set. Just as you asked.”
”And you prepared the gown I asked for? And the scarf?”
”Yes, ma'am. They're just here.”
”Right, then. Well, let's get ready, shall we? It's going to be something of a b.u.mpy ride this evening, I fear.”
Frances smiled. ”I'd say you can count on it.” She lifted up the gown and shook it out. ”I believe that the final destination will make the turbulence in the middle worth it.”
”I hope you're right. I guess we'll know soon enough, won't we?” For the first time in longer than she could remember, Charlotte felt nervous about something she was about to do. Beyond that, a bit deeper, was something that she almost couldn't identify. It felt like . . . hope?
Out of respect for Miss Montgomery, Lauren opted to dress for dinner in a floor-length gown. Since she owned only one such dress, it made the choice simple. It was actually her grandmother's prom dress, one that she had used for her own prom in spite of the fact that it looked nothing like what any of the other girls had worn. The era wasn't that far off from what Miss Montgomery wore on a nightly basis, so this would likely fit in better at her house than it had at the high school gym all those years ago.
The skirt was pink silk topped with black tulle. The top had pink silk around the edges, with tiny crystals every inch or so, but with a black velvet bodice that had two large crystals descending from the sweetheart neckline. Most of the jeweled portions of the dress had been added by her grandmother. She'd always liked bling-at least according to Aunt Nell, who had given the dress to Lauren when she'd visited the summer of her sixteenth year.
Somehow it made her feel safe and protected, wearing this dress. It was as if Aunt Nell were with her. At least she told herself that until she pulled through the neighborhood gate. At that point she began to feel as though a seamstress were applying a beading awl directly to her stomach. There was no reason that Miss Montgomery would have anything nice to say to her tonight. Why, though, would she want her to come to dinner? It seemed everything that could be said had already been said.
Maybe she was planning further action for breach of the neighborhood policies, but Lauren didn't think that would really be a legal issue, and why have dinner for something like that? Tea would be easier. Or no food at all.
Whatever the rant, Lauren vowed to herself that she would take it without making excuses. She and she alone had made the mistake. If Miss Montgomery felt better by telling her off one last time, then so be it.
As she pulled into the driveway, she noticed the extra car parked beside the house. A red Mercedes. Oh no. When Frances had mentioned yesterday that Willow didn't follow the dress code, she'd forgotten to mention that she would be here at this dinner. This bit of knowledge would have changed Lauren's decision to accept the invitation, which was likely the reason Frances had failed to mention it. Taking a tongue-las.h.i.+ng she deserved was hard enough; taking it in front of someone else who deserved it worse . . . well, that was something different altogether. No matter, it was too late now.
Lauren promised herself she would not leave here until she had confronted Willow about that necklace. She would do it privately, but she would let her know that she knew Willow had stolen it.
She stepped from the car and smoothed down her skirt. Now, knowing Willow would be here in her high-priced designer jeans, Lauren felt a little silly at her choice of apparel for the evening. She walked to the front door and rang the bell, holding her breath and wis.h.i.+ng with all that was within her that she could turn and run in the opposite direction.
Frances offered a huge smile. She gestured toward Lauren's dress. ”You look wonderful. Miss Montgomery will be so pleased.” She opened the door a little wider. ”Right this way, please. They will be down in just a moment.”
Lauren followed her through the hall and into the library, a beautiful room with sky-high ceilings and bookshelves that were packed with books from top to bottom. In the center of the back wall, the focal point, there were rows of matching leather-bound volumes lined up neat as a pin. Toward the edges, and often disguised behind a partial door or beside a couple of artful bookends, there were more recent hardbacks and paperbacks, too. Lauren walked over to see what kind of modern reading Miss Montgomery might undertake.
She was surprised to find a little bit of everything, from romance, to suspense, to legal thriller. There were even a few science fiction books, which Lauren very much doubted Miss Montgomery had ever read. Seeming to read her mind, Frances followed her over. ”She's a great reader. Loves all kinds of books. I think that is her way of at least staying partially in touch with the world she has mostly left behind. She can read a book and feel that she has experienced a little of it.”
Lauren nodded, understanding the sentiment but thinking how sad it was that Miss Montgomery had spent so many years isolating herself from the world. While she certainly understood wanting to hide away from everyone and everything, especially after Malfunction Gate, she saw before her the danger of letting yourself escape from your problems and not deal with them. Yet another reminder that she was glad she'd made the decision to come here tonight.
”Please, make yourself comfortable. I will go tell them that you have arrived.”
”No need for that, on my account, anyway. I heard the doorbell.” Miss Montgomery swept into the room, looking as composed and stately as Lauren had ever seen her.
Lauren, however, knew she herself looked considerably less composed. Her mouth had flown wide open and remained that way the second she saw what Miss Montgomery was wearing.
It was the blue brocade gown. Finally she managed to stammer out, ”That color is beautiful on you.”
Miss Montgomery looked down, smoothed out the skirt with her hands, and looked back up. ”I've always been partial to dark blue.” She didn't smile, but she didn't frown, either. She simply looked as though things were happening as they were expected to happen.
”I hope you like it.” It sounded as though she were asking for a compliment, but really, Lauren spoke the truth. She really hoped that Miss Montgomery liked the dress.
Charlotte Montgomery ignored the comment and walked over to the pitcher of ice water that was sitting on the sideboard, poured some into a crystal goblet, and took a sip. She glanced back down at her dress. ”The cut of the gown itself is quite extraordinary. Where did you find such a pattern?”