More like five hundred, Elly thought, but I’ll keep that to myself.
“Who in their right mind would spend that much on a dress? I buy all my clothes at the thrift store in town, and I never spend more than three dollars on pants or shirts.” She looked around the empty room and lowered her voice to a pleading whisper. “I never wear dresses. I ride horses all day. All my friends from the ranch are here, and they’re going to laugh at me wearing that, I just know it. I don’t understand why I can’t wear my church clothes. This outfit is just fine for church at home– but she’s not interested in that, oh no, with her uppity fiancé and his fancy parents...”
She looked ready to cry. “My daughter does whatever they want. She had this fancy city wedding because his Mom wanted it. I wanted her to get married on the ranch, under the stars, wearing her grandmother’s cowboy boots, with our pastor there... But no, no one cares what I say anymore…”
Elly instantly saw the underlying issue. This wasn’t about the dress. This was about a mother’s pride. She put her arms around the mother’s shoulders.
“Your daughter will always be your daughter. No matter how much money or swank the new in-laws come with, you will always be HER mother. Nothing can ever change that. No one can ever take your place in her life.” Elly’s voice caught in her throat. “I think about my mother every day. She is always with me.” She tried to gain control of her unexpected surge of emotion.
“What I’m saying is, this is one dress. One day. It’s not a surrender, or a grand statement. It’s just a dress, and it would make your daughter happy if you wore it. You might not know this, but your daughter is kind of high maintenance.”
The mother laughed and put her hand on Elly’s shoulder. “She really is.” She looked at the dress pensively. “It’s just a dress?”
Elly nodded and looked into the woman’s kind, worried brown eyes. “It’s just a dress.”
The mother grabbed the hanger on the back of the door and backed into the restroom. Elly smiled happily. Her work here was done. Brooke emerged from the bridal suite, looking resplendent in an elegant A-line dress, with fabric swaging that cinched at the waist with delicate pearl embroidery. She saw Elly inching towards the door and rushed over to her.
“Thank you so much, I knew you could convince her! So, I just have one more question. My hair person just told me that muscari can cause some people to have an allergic reaction, and so I was wondering if it is too late to change that.”
Elly looked at her. “Brooke,” she said sternly. “GO. GET. MARRIED. No more worrying, no more questions.”
Brooke gave a shy smile and mouthed. “Okay.”
In that moment, Elly saw a mature woman behind the frantic bridezilla who had driven her crazy for the past few months. She gave Brooke a quick hug and dashed for the door, before the bride could find anything else to complain about.
Ten minutes later – the time it took to coax Snarky Teenager away from six adoring groomsmen – the Posies van roared up Wydown. Snarky Teenager, to her credit, sensed the sudden change in Elly’s mood and was oddly silent for the drive. Elly rode in the passenger seat, watching lights smear out the rain-drenched window. She silently wiped a tear off her face as they turned up the drive to Posies. Missing her mother was like this; a stray thought, and then she was drowning in grief, drifting in a sea of grey memory.
CHAPTER
TEN
Sarah Jordan had been an anomaly in many ways. First of all, she was both strikingly beautiful and quite plump. Elly had seen men gaze at her, totally confused, wondering why they were drawn to this woman who was fleshy and soft, not unlike their own mother.