Not even the soothing décor of Claire’s nicest dressing room could turn Hannah’s ordeal at Beau Monde Fashions into a pleasure. Wallpaper the color of green tea with a lovely rose border could not erase the fact that her dress wouldn’t button.
“I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Claire said, her voice floating in through the louvers of the dressing room door. “Bob and I are really grateful to you as an enabler.”
“Huh?” Hannah was thoroughly puzzled.
“The way you helped us tell the congregation that we wanted to get married.”
“Thanks.” Hannah remembered the morning in church when she’d made the announcement that Reverend Robert Knudson and Claire were planning to be married. She’d certainly overstepped the bounds of friendship by forcing the issue in such a public way, but everything had turned out all right. She was just patting herself on the back, mentally, for a job well done, when she realized that Claire had used the word enabler. “You’re seeing a marriage counselor?” she guessed.
“A pre-marriage counselor, someone from the synod. It’s recommended when a minister gets married. Anyway…I don’t have any family and…will you be our maid of honor for the wedding?”
Hannah took a moment to think that over. The old saying, Three times a bridesmaid, never a bride, didn’t apply in her case since she’d walked down the aisle as a bridesmaid five times in the past. “I’d love to, Claire. Thanks for asking me. But you’d better order a larger size dress.”
“There’s a problem?” Claire glanced in as Hannah opened the door, and not even the soft pink bulb in the overhead lamp could hide her dismay. “Oh, dear!!”
“What’s wrong?” Andrea asked, coming up behind Claire. Hannah glanced at her sister. Of course Andrea’s dress fit perfectly. She hadn’t gained an ounce since high school.
“Hannah’s dress is too tight,” Claire murmured, stating the obvious.
“And how!” Andrea shook her head. “Is there anything you can do?”
Claire gave a little shrug. “I can let it out, but not that much. They clipped the seams.”
Even though she wasn’t a seamstress, Hannah knew that meant she was in trouble. “Can you order a larger size?”
“There’s no time. It takes at least two months for a special order, and your mother’s party is only two weeks away.” Claire thought for a moment and then she turned to Hannah with a hopeful look. “You said you were serving the refreshments. What kind of apron will you be wearing?”
“See-through lace. Mother ordered them from a catalogue.”
“Then we’ve had it. Unless…”
“Unless what?” Hannah asked, hoping that Claire had come up with a miracle.
“Unless I put in inserts.”
“Can you do that?” Hannah asked her.
Claire picked up the hem of Hannah’s dress and looked at it. “There’s not much material, and it’s a large print. I’m not sure I can match it.”
“What does that mean?” Andrea asked, every bit as clueless as Hannah was.
“It means that I’m a good tailor, but it’s still going to look like we had to enlarge it because it was too small.”
“Okay,” Andrea said, turning to Hannah. “Hurry up and change back into your regular clothes. I’ve got a plan.”
Hannah wasted no time in peeling herself out of the dress and handing it out the door to Claire. In less time than it would take her to beat a meringue by hand, not that she ever would, she emerged from the pretty little dressing room, zipping up her parka.
“I’ll call you later, Claire,” Andrea said, hustling Hannah out the door.
“What plan?” Hannah asked, turning up her collar as she headed across the parking lot for the back door of her bakery and coffee shop, The Cookie Jar.
“You’re already on a diet. You told me that, and it’s all to the good. That means we’ve got two whole weeks to firm you up.”
“Firm me up?!” Hannah uttered the words in the same shocked tone she would have used if her cat, Moishe, had barked to greet her when she opened the door. “Does firming up mean what I think it means?”
“It does.” Andrea braced herself against the wind that almost claimed the little fur hat she was wearing. “I bought a year’s membership at Heavenly Bodies, and it comes with a guest pass. I’ll get you enrolled in my Classic Contours class. That’s a program to discover your ideal shape.”
Hannah was about to object when she reconsidered. Classic Contours didn’t sound bad, especially if the classic part had something to do with classic art. The women Reubens painted certainly weren’t featherweights. Then there were the Gibson Girls, and no one could describe them as sylphlike, and…
“Once you discover your perfect shape, you use individual body sculpting to achieve and maintain it. Each one of us has a series of personalized exercises we do.”
She’d known it was too good to be true. Hannah gave a deep sigh and put away thoughts of well-proportioned, plus-size ladies.
“Anyway,” Andrea went on. “I’ll call out there and sign you up, and my personal fitness coach will design an exercise program for you.”
“Uh-oh,” Hannah breathed, giving a little shudder. The phrase fitness coach was not in her vocabulary. Even worse, the phrase exercise program brought back painful memories of mandatory calisthenics in elementary school gym class.
“Don’t worry. It won’t cost you anything,” Andrea reassured her, completely misinterpreting Hannah’s near-panicked expression. “Roger, my fitness coach, owes me one. I’m advertising his classes on my real estate flyers.”
“It’s not the money. It’s just that I’m not cut out for an exercise regime. It’s never worked for me before, and…” Hannah stopped and sighed again. She really wanted to tell her sister to forget it, but she knew how disappointed Delores would be if all three of her daughters weren’t wearing the dresses she’d bought for her launch party. Were two weeks of her life too much to give for her mother’s happiness?
Andrea sensed Hannah’s ambivalence, and she gave her closing argument. “If you exercise every day, use the right machines, and stick to your diet, you’ll be able to fit into your dress before Mother’s party.”
“You really think so?”
“I do. Just say yes, and we’ll get started bright and early Monday morning.”
Tomorrow was Sunday. At least she had one day to enjoy before Andrea cracked down the hammer. Hannah had made a solemn promise four years ago, right after she’d embarked upon a jogging regime that had lasted less than a week. She’d vowed to never again throw herself into an activity she knew she wouldn’t complete. It was a waste of time, an assignment in futility, an endeavor that was fated to end in defeat.
“I love you just the way you are, Hannah.” Andrea reached out to give her a little hug. “But just think of how proud Mother will be when she sees all three of us in the lovely dresses she chose for us.”
Guilt reared its ugly head, and Hannah groaned. Andrea was pulling out all the stops to close the deal, a tactic she must have learned in real estate school.
“Yes?” Andrea prodded.
Hannah felt as if her life was about to pass in front of her eyes, but there was no help for it. She had to make their mother proud. “If you’re sure it’ll work, I’ll do it.”
“I’m sure.”
“I just wish I’d known all this before we left Bertanelli’s,” she muttered, opening the back door and ushering Andrea in.
“So you could have ordered your salad without dressing?”
“Not exactly.”
“Why then?” Andrea hung her coat on one of the hooks by the door and settled herself on a stool at the stainless steel work island.
“So I could have ordered a jumbo pizza for my last meal.”