The Dream Dress

  I’d never been one to write things down, but I grabbed an empty journal from the bedside table and scribbled as fast as I could. Better get it all down before I forgot. Then I closed my eyes and prayed about God’s plans—for my life, my business, my family, my friendships.

  Afterward I turned off the lamp and rolled over, peaceful and filled with joy.

  No sooner did my head touch the pillow, however, than an idea hit. A God-breathed idea, as Scarlet would call it.

  My new bride, Ashley, needed a dress for her winter wonderland wedding. I hadn’t given it a lot of thought. Other than a rushed telephone conversation and a small deposit check, she hadn’t really given me much to go on. Oh, but the ideas now flowed like water.

  I sat up in bed, snapped on the lamp, and grabbed my sketchpad and artist’s pencil, ready to get to work once more. As I scribbled and scratched a dazzling design onto the page, that wonderful cocoon-like feeling enveloped me, just as it had that day at the beach. I could sense—literally sense—the hand of God. With that hand guiding mine, we crafted a thing of beauty.

  Blue Skies

  I have no desire to prove anything by it. I have never used it as an outlet or a means of expressing myself. I just dance.

  Fred Astaire

  The month of October was spent meeting with new brides and sketching nearly a dozen dress designs. I spent a lot of time at the beach with my artist’s pencil in hand. At least until the weather grew chilly. At that point I purchased a small drafting table and put it in my sewing room at the house. I set it in front of the window so that I could see outside and be inspired by nature. Crazy how much work I could get done when I had something lovely to look at. Not that looking at the house across the street was particularly inspiring, but seeing out beyond my own little world helped. A lot.

  Demetri softened in his approach to me, and by early November, with Bella’s help, I’d set up a small display of gowns in Haute Couture in the spot where my closet-like work space had once been. This act was greeted with a few glares from the Fab Five. Well, all but Doria, who congratulated me and told me how proud she was.

  Kitty raved over the gowns, gushing over every ruffle and crystal like a proud grandmother. By the week before Thanksgiving, we were back to normal where Haute Couture was concerned. Okay, maybe not normal, exactly, but close. I only saw Demetri on occasion, usually at some function involving the other vendors or while crossing paths at Parma John’s, where Jordan and I spent much of our time. Kitty took care of most of my business dealings with the shop, and Bella helped me with my clientele, offering sage advice and all the encouragement a girl could ever need. When she wasn’t up to her eyeballs in brides, anyway.

  The Saturday after I set up my new display at the bridal store, I received a call from Jordan. The call came late morning, just after I had swung by Scarlet’s bakery to pick up a cake for Mimi, who wanted to surprise Daniel for his birthday.

  “I’m excited about our date tonight,” Jordan said.

  “Me too.” I shifted the phone to my other ear and pointed through the glass case at a beautiful chocolate cake, perfect for Mimi and Daniel’s night out. “I have an afternoon wedding, but I’ll be back at the house by five. Mama’s getting ready for Italy and Mimi Carmen has a date. I’m picking up a cake right now, but it’s for the two of them. She’s got some sort of special dinner planned for Daniel’s birthday.”

  “Another date with Daniel, eh?” Jordan chuckled. “They’re quite an item these days.”

  “Oh yes, they’re two peas in a pod.”

  “Well, this might sound selfish, but I’m glad she’s busy because I want you all to myself. I’ve got a special night planned, so prepare yourself to be wowed.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. No questions, though. Okay?”

  “Okay. But what do I wear? Casual? Dressy? What?”

  “Wear the dress that’s on display at Club Wed.”

  “The floor-length gown? Ivory? The one with the feathers?” Was he kidding?

  “That’s the one.”

  “But that’s a wedding dress.” Maybe people wouldn’t realize it because it was vintage. “Why so fancy? Where are you taking me? This must be some date.”

  “Don’t ask any questions, oh curious one. Just wear the dress and put on your dancing shoes.”

  Ah. I got it now. The ballroom dance classes he’d signed us up for must be starting. But why risk wearing such a fancy gown to a lesson? I started to tell him that I thought it might be too risky but decided against it. If Fred wanted Ginger to dress in her finest, Ginger would dress in her finest.

  “Yes, sir.” I fought the temptation to salute. He must have something up his sleeve.

  I thought about it as I took care of my bride’s needs that afternoon. I pondered it as I showered and dressed for our date. I speculated, curiosity growing, as I fixed my hair in a Ginger-like upsweep. I chewed on it awhile as I put on my makeup, paying careful attention to the way I fixed my eye shadow and perfectly lined my lips. I wanted to get it just right—sort of a Ginger-ish effect to sweep my Fred off his feet.

  Just the idea made me giggle. Well, that, and trying to picture Jordan as Fred Astaire in the first place. Other than that night in the moonlight, I’d never even seen him dance. Still, he had all of the other qualities that made a movie hero great, didn’t he? Kindness, a joyful nature, a strong relationship with God. Yep. And it didn’t hurt that he was knock-you-down gorgeous.

  Wowza. I just thought he’d looked gorgeous before. When he showed up in a full tuxedo complete with tails, I almost lost my breath.

  “Oh. My. Goodness.” I dragged him into the house and called for Mama and Mimi Carmen to come have a look.

  My grandmother let out a little whistle when she saw Jordan’s getup. “Well now, if you aren’t the cat’s meow! Haven’t seen a tux and tails like that since . . .” She laughed. “Well, since I was a girl, really. That’s the real deal you’re wearing there.”

  “Yep. Sure is.” He spun around and sent the tails flying.

  Mama chuckled and asked him to turn around again, more slowly this time, so she could have a closer look at the tails.

  “I’m sorry, I know it’s probably not appropriate for a woman my age to look at a man’s backside,” she said. “But those tails are divine.”

  “All the girls tell me that.” Jordan laughed and I punched him in the arm.

  “These clothes take me back to the old days, when men were men and ladies were . . .” Mimi pointed to my dress. “Well, ladies dressed like that.”

  “And movies were clean and safe and filled with great song and dance numbers.” Mama began to whistle a little song and then skittered off to find her camera. Soon we were being photographed. From every conceivable angle, no less.

  After nearly a dozen photos, Jordan glanced at his watch and then took me by the hand. “Ladies, I’d love to stay and chat, but we have special plans tonight. Our carriage awaits.”

  “Where are you going?” my mother asked.

  He put his finger to his lips. “I’m not telling. It’s a surprise.”

  “Must be a doozy of a surprise then.” Mimi Carmen released a sigh and a blissful look came over her. “This is what every woman, young and old, longs for—a fella to show up at her door, dressed like this, ready to take her out for a night on the town.” Her face lit up as she said, “Ooo, that reminds me! Daniel will be here shortly to pick me up. Thanks for the cake, Gabi.”

  “You’re welcome.” I gave her a little kiss on the cheek and whispered, “Have a great night, Mimi. Hope it’s filled with romance.”

  She blushed and then took off down the hall, carrying on in Spanish about some character on her soap opera falling in love. I didn’t catch all of it, but I had to smile.

  “We’re off to the ball.” Jordan offered me the crook of his arm and I took it, feeling very much like a princess as he glided me out the front door.

  My neighbor, Mrs. McGillicuddy, looked up from her front
porch and whistled as she saw us heading down the walkway in front of my house. “Well, aren’t we something! Who are you two supposed to be?”

  “Just ourselves,” I hollered back. And it felt mighty good to be myself on the arm of the man I loved.

  The man I loved.

  Oh, how those words made my heart sing. In fact, it sang so loudly that I found myself humming along. The song intensified as we climbed into Jordan’s car.

  We only drove for about five minutes, headed straight into the business district, when Jordan pulled the car into a parking lot. Strange. No great restaurants around here. None that I could remember. Only the old Marquee Theater, but little else to stir a girl’s fancy.

  “Is this right?” I asked, looking around.

  “Right as rain.”

  He climbed out of the car and walked around to my side, then opened my door for me. I got out and let him lead me across the street to the front of the Marquee. An usher straight from the Hollywood golden years greeted us at the entrance, bowing low as if we were important guests. “Pleasure to have you with us, Mr. Singer. Miss Delgado.”

  I jabbed Jordan with my elbow. “How does he know our names?” I whispered.

  “I have no idea.” Jordan’s eyes glistened with merriment. “Seriously, Gabi, just play along with me here, okay?”

  “O-okay.”

  Stepping inside the lobby was just like stepping back in time. Chandeliers hung overhead, casting the most romantic glow over the spacious lobby. Wall sconces, intricately designed, graced the walls.

  I had forgotten how lovely this place was and how it made me feel. “I’ve stepped back into an old movie.” I knew my words sounded breathless, but I didn’t care. Who could breathe on a night such as this?

  “Exactly,” Jordan said as he placed his hand on my back and led me to the concessions area. “That’s the idea.”

  The young man behind the counter was dressed in perfect attire for his job—creased slacks and a freshly pressed jacket over a white shirt, complete with a little black bow tie. We ordered a bucket of popcorn, which sizzled and popped in the popcorn maker moments later. Jordan then requested a Diet Coke. The fellow never flinched, though I whispered, “They didn’t have diet drinks in the olden days.”

  “Hey, work with me here.” Jordan gave me a wink that melted my heart.

  The same usher who had welcomed us at the front door awaited us when we arrived at the door to the theater. “Enjoy your movie, folks,” he said, then pulled the door open.

  We stepped inside the old theater, and my heart sailed backwards in time. I was a little girl climbing the carpeted steps to the balcony with my hand tightly clutching my father’s.

  Forcing the image aside, I squinted to better see the room. I could make out the large screen down front. An old black-and-white movie played on the screen, drawing me in at once and whisking me back in time to some of my favorite movies from days gone by, movies I’d spent hours watching. Studying.

  No way.

  It was Fred and Ginger. Top Hat.

  In a rush of emotion, my thoughts shifted back to my father, to that special night when he had brought me here to see this very movie. I turned to face Jordan, unable to hold back the tears. “I-I can’t believe you did this.”

  “Only the best for my girl.” He leaned over and gave me a little kiss on the cheek. “We’re creating some new memories. Some I hope you’ll never forget.”

  I would never forget, all right. “How in the world did you do this? This is . . . crazy.”

  “Crazy in a good way.” He chuckled. “This is when it helps to have friends in the publishing business. I’m doing an article on the theater for our magazine, so they set all of this up, hoping for a good write-up to increase their business.”

  “Business? But the theater hasn’t been open for years.”

  “Not to moviegoers, necessarily, but a lot of companies rent out the space for parties.”

  “I had no idea.”

  The fact that he’d done all of this for me made my heart sing. And clearly it had all been done with me in mind. I couldn’t locate another living soul in the theater.

  Oh, wait. Down in front of the screen stood a couple. I could only make out their shadows, what with the theater being so dark and all. For sure, I could tell that the fella was wearing a top hat. Interesting. Probably part of Jordan’s amazing plan to wow me.

  “Let’s make this a night to remember,” he said.

  “It already is,” I whispered.

  Jordan offered me his hand and guided me down the aisle toward the stage. Once there, I realized that the odd-looking couple wasn’t a couple at all. They weren’t real, anyway. My dress forms stood side by side, facing the screen. Ginger wore a beautiful crystal-covered gown I’d designed weeks ago, and Demetri—okay, Fred—looked pretty swanky in his tuxedo and tails. Almost as swanky as the fella at my side. And that top hat . . . gracious! The expensive headpiece almost made me giddy.

  Still, none of this made sense.

  When we reached the area in front of the stage, Jordan pulled the hat off the dress form’s head and bowed low. “Thank you, Fred. Don’t mind if I do.”

  He then eased me into his arms and began to hum the melody to “Cheek to Cheek” along with Fred. The Fred on the screen, of course. Jordan tipped his hat, gave a princely bow, and the dance began.

  Seconds later, my dance partner picked up the speed, completely taking my breath away. In a good way. He spun me around our makeshift dance floor, singing in my ear.

  Was there anything this fella couldn’t do? And didn’t he look dashing with his tails and top hat flying in the air? Well, the tails were flying, anyway. The top hat miraculously stayed perched on his head.

  When that inevitable moment came in the song—you know the one, where Fred and Ginger take off like two maniacs across the stage with only the undergirding of instrumental music to guide them—Jordan held me closer and slowed the dance a bit. Still, he moved like a pro.

  Did he take dance lessons for this or something?

  Clearly some preparation had gone into making this dance number a top-of-the-line event.

  As the music softened, Jordan paused and swept a loose hair from my face. He leaned down to whisper “Ginger” in my ear.

  “Yes, Fred?” I whispered in response, and then a little giggle escaped.

  “I love dancing with you.” He nuzzled my cheek with his lips.

  A delicious shiver ran down my spine. “And I love dancing with you.”

  We spoke the words “cheek to cheek” in unison, as if we’d planned it, and then both laughed. I felt my nerves bubble up as he swept me into a tight embrace and kissed me with a passion suitable for the big screen. Wowza. One of those tingle-all-the-way-to-the-toes kisses. I could hardly keep my feet on the ground.

  “Fred is a happy man,” Jordan said when the kiss ended.

  Ginger was pretty happy too, but she couldn’t speak right now. The lump in her throat wouldn’t allow it.

  The jovial expression on Jordan’s face grew more serious, and I felt his hands tremble as he took mine. “Ginger, there’s something Fred needs to ask you.”

  “O-oh?” My own hands trembled uncontrollably.

  “Yes.” He led me to the dress forms. Once we got close enough, I could see that Fred had a funny little piece of paper pinned to his lapel. With the paper folded in half, I couldn’t see what was on the inside.

  “What’s that, Fred?” Jordan leaned down as if listening for an answer. “Oh? You want me to give it to her? Okay.” He unpinned the note and pretended to pass it to the other dress form. Then he leaned down to listen to Fred’s instructions again. “Oh? Wrong woman? Okay.”

  He passed the note to me and shrugged. “I think this was meant for you.”

  “You sure?” My hands still trembled as I opened it. Just twelve little words, but they took my breath away: Will you be my dance partner . . . for the rest of our lives?

  The paper slipped o
ut of my hands and floated down to the floor. Before I could reach down to snatch it—how could I, really, with the dress being so fitted and all?—Jordan bowed low and scooped it up. “What does it say?” he asked.

  “I-I think Fred here is proposing.” I slipped my arm around the male dress form. “But I’m not really sure he’s my type, to be honest. He’s such an old stiff.”

  “Ah. That he is.” Jordan slapped Fred on the back. “And I can’t believe he was hitting on my girl. Who does he think he is?”

  Who indeed?

  Jordan drew me close, and I felt his breath soft against my cheek. “But what if that old stiff was just acting on someone else’s behalf? What would you say then?”

  My heart thump-thumped in rhythm with the background music on the screen above. “I’d say whoever put him up to this is a romantic at heart and perfectly suited to a girl like me.”

  A dazzling smile lit Jordan’s face. “Well then. There’s just one more thing to do.” He dropped to one knee, reached inside his jacket pocket, and came out with a tiny box. “Would you like to be my dance partner . . . forever? I promise not to step on your toes or make you dance in front of an audience.”

  “I would dance with you even if you made my toes black and blue—on the big screen or in the privacy of our own . . . bedroom.” A little giggle escaped as I spoke that last word. Still, it seemed appropriate, all things considered.

  “Whew.” He wiped his brow with his free hand. “That’s good. Because I make no real and lasting promises where the dancing’s concerned.” He held the ring up—a sparkling marquise. “So is that a yes?”

  “Oh yes!” My heart burst into a miraculous love song, one that propelled me to the stars and back to earth again. “It’s a yes.”

  “That’s a relief. Fred’s getting arthritic in his old age.”

  The music on the screen swelled as Jordan slipped the gorgeous ring onto my finger, and I practically swooned. He rose and swept me into his arms for an Oscar-worthy kiss, which was interrupted a few seconds later when Jordan waggled his index finger at the male dress form.