Chapter 2: Dresses

Those first two weeks of December passed quickly. The POstables worked hard at being Santa's helpers and at maintaining as many of their dead letter deliveries as possible.

As soon as Oliver asked to escort Shane home after the ball, she spent the following Saturday searching Denver's finest boutiques with Rita for the perfect dress. But nothing seemed right. Everything was too short or too long, too revealing or too matronly, too frilly or too plain.

Finally Rita said, "Shane, you've looked fantastic in a dozen different dresses. I'm not sure you're going to find it in this lifetime."

"That's it! I'm not looking for this lifetime. I want vintage – Grace Kelly, Audrey Hepburn! Oliver will love that! Rita, you're a genius."

"I am?" said Rita looking confused.

"Yes, I want something classically elegant, something very Oliver O'Toole," Shane said, as if the solution to world peace had just been discovered.

"Where do we have to go for this classically elegant dress?" asked Rita, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Oh, I'll shop online!" answered the resident technophile.

"Whew, that's good because I think I've walked an inch off another pair of heels," Rita replied in her typically good-natured tone.

"Let's sit down and get something to eat, my treat," said Shane.

"Sitting down definitely sounds good to me," responded Rita.

The two friends went walking down the street, arms wrapped around each other's shoulders, laughing and talking all the way – very much like two happy schoolgirls.

After getting a bite to eat, Shane went home that Saturday and spent the night looking online at vintage dresses. Somewhere around 3:00 a.m., she found the perfect one. It was a virtual case study in classic elegance and femininity. Dancing would be easy in the dress. It was right out of the best of the 1950's.

The dress had a fitted, black velvet, bodice with capped sleeves, a narrow, shallow v-neck in the front, and a deep v in the back. Layers of royal blue chiffon, bordered just above the hem in black lace, fell over a full circular skirt of blue satin. The layers of chiffon gathered at her waist, which was cinched by a wide, black silk band. The dress came with a black velvet wrap, lined with royal blue satin. Black potiswa, pumps would finish off her stunning look. She decided that her blonde hair would be exactly as she had worn it on the first "not-a-date" to Montaldo's.

The dress arrived only three days later, and it fit as if it were made for her.

She stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom viewing herself in the dress. Yes, this was the dress for the ball. This was the dress for Oliver. She closed her eyes and swayed barefooted around the room, imagining for a moment that they were dancing. He may have to go to D.C., but when he returned, their evening would be perfect.

"Return – he would return, wouldn't he," Shane thought as she sat down on her bed.

The irony that Oliver would be leaving at Christmas rolled through her mind. "Don't be silly, there is no comparison. Oliver doesn't want to go and he will definitely return," she reasoned with herself. But somehow, the old scar from a Christmas long ago, made his leaving, particularly at this time of year, a little more poignant.