Christmas on 4th Street (Fool's Gold #12.5)

“It’s gratifying.” Isabel admitted, stepping up on the low dais and adjusting the dress. “This is a really good fit. I’ll have my brilliant alteration lady call to make an appointment with you. Get the dress tailored sooner rather than later and remember, from this day until the wedding you can’t lose or gain an ounce.”


“Yes, ma’am,” Patience said, taking one last look at herself. She was turning when she came to a stop and her mouth dropped open. “Oh, my.”

Noelle looked and saw Felicia had stepped out of a dressing room. The stunning redhead had chosen an ivory gown that was more than fitted. It clung to her perfect body in diagonal rows of what looked like pleating but was probably some kind of fancy draping. Like Patience’s dress, it flared out just above the knee, but Felicia’s skirt ended in dozens of massive flowers made of the gorgeous silk. They cascaded to the floor and formed a train.

“I don’t know,” Felicia murmured. “I can barely walk and maybe it’s a little much for Fool’s Gold. I don’t want people to—”

“Stop,” Noelle said, walking toward her friend. She circled her, taking in the fitted back, the incredible flowers and how the color made her friend’s skin glow. “Just stop. You’re inhumanly beautiful. You need that dress. It’s perfect on you. No one else could carry that off.”

She looked at Isabel and Patience, who both nodded, wide-eyed.

Felicia stunned her by bursting into tears then pulling her close. “I love you so much. You’re a wonderful friend. Thank you.”

Isabel and Patience rushed over to join the group hug. Noelle let the love wash over her, filling her heart with happiness. This was what she’d been looking for, she thought happily. Closeness. Belonging. And she’d found it.

They finally disentangled. Isabel sniffed as she wiped away tears. “This was so great. But I think we should do our fittings independently or we’ll spend the whole time sobbing.”

“You’re right,” Felicia said. “The abundance of emotion is overwhelming.”

“What she said.” Patience waved at Felicia and brushed away tears.

“All right, I’m taking control,” Isabel told them. “You two go get changed.”

When the other two had retreated to the dressing rooms, Noelle turned to Isabel. “What about your dress?”

She smiled shyly. “I have it,” she said, then led the way into the back.

Noelle had seen the bridal shop storeroom before. It consisted of dozens of racks filled with beautiful dresses. But the construction had eaten into the area, cutting it in half.

“Part of the remodeling,” Isabel said, pointing to the makeshift wall.

“Where are the rest of the dresses?” Noelle asked, thinking storing a wedding gown wasn’t like storing extra paper towels. You couldn’t just rent a storage place and leave them there.

“At Dellina’s. She has a spare bedroom. The racks fit perfectly and it’s kept close to seventy degrees. You know, normal indoor temperatures. Perfect for my inventory.” She reached for a dress and held it out.

Like the other two, it was strapless, but Isabel’s skirt was full. Tiny flowers of lace and crystals covered the bodice, becoming more scattered closer to her waist before stopping just past her hips. The skirt was layers and layers of sheer fabric that rustled and swayed.

“There’s a matching veil,” Isabel said with a sigh. “The same flowers are sprinkled along the edge. I know it’s girly rather than high fashion, but I can’t help myself.”

“You’ll be beautiful.”

Isabel put the dress back, then turned to her. “Are you okay with this? We’re not making you want to slit your throat or something?”

Noelle grinned. “I don’t own a knife that fancy and I’m fine. This is great. I love being a part of the secret triple wedding.”

Isabel didn’t look convinced. Noelle shrugged.

“Look, if I had some long-term boyfriend who wouldn’t cough up a ring, I might be annoyed, but I don’t. I love you guys and I’m happy for you. Besides, you got me a great dress.”

In keeping with the strapless theme, Isabel had suggested a couple of different dresses for Noelle. Together they’d chosen a simple strapless cocktail dress with shirring at the bodice and an unexpected twist of fabric at the waist. The dress was short enough to be sexy but not so sexy that it was distracting. The blue-purple color flattered and it was the kind of dress Noelle really could wear again.

“I just don’t want this to be depressing,” Isabel told her. “I wish Consuelo had agreed to be a bridesmaid, but when I asked again, I got the sense she wanted to physically hurt me.”

Noelle laughed. “That sounds like her. Don’t worry. I’m happy to be the attendant friend. Really.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

They returned to the main room of the salon just as Dellina, their wedding planner, arrived with both arms full of flowers. She put down the bouquets, looked at all of them, then put her hands on her hips.

“What?” she demanded. “You’ve been crying. Don’t try to tell me you haven’t been. And I’d better not hear someone is breaking up.”