A Tale of Two Dresses
By Felicia Ferguson
Author's Note: Wow. So it's over. And writergirl is sad. This story became such a work of my heart, even though it was only supposed to be a fill-in-the-gap ficlet. I truly hope you've enjoyed playing in Martha's sandbox with me. But recess is now over, and it's back to day job writing. Please let me know what you think. Feedback is like coffee and chocolate to writers.
Usual disclaimers apply and are found in chapter one. Enjoy, POstables!
Chapter Three
May
Shane's birthday passed with the usual POstable fanfare, dinner at the Mailbox Grille with a champagne toast. She and Oliver had even shared another heated gaze as the glasses met their lips, making the wine even headier than usual. The gifts were sweet, but low-key. A journal from Oliver, a scarf from Rita and Norman, and a picture frame from Joe.
But the best gift of all arrived a week later, the box sitting on her porch swing as if saving her seat for a future evening. Without a glance for the rose stem, Shane rushed up the steps, dropped her purse, and hugged the box to her chest.
The pink dress was here.
Grabbing her purse, she hurried into the house and into the kitchen for a knife, then carefully sliced through the packing tape. She opened the flaps and found the dress folded and secured in a clear plastic bag. Her breath caught. It was already even prettier in person. She couldn't imagine what it would like on.
Her cheeks curved in a wide grin. She didn't have to imagine any longer. Pulling open the plastic, she unfurled the dress with a gentle flick of her hands. The material fell open like a waterfall of glistening pink as the satiny fabric caught the overhead light.
"Wow. Gorgeous." The words left her on a long breath as she absorbed the color and lines. It was worth every penny she'd spent. Hugging it to her, she raced upstairs to her bedroom and quickly changed.
She closed her eyes, then stepped in front of the full-length mirror. The final test.
Taking in a long breath, she counted to three then her eyes popped open.
Her mouth widened.
Her heartbeat skipped.
It was perfect.
Stunningly, beautifully, amazingly perfect.
Tears welled in her eyes as she turned in front of the mirror, her gaze tracing the dips and lines and savoring the flare of the skirt as it swirled around her calves. She stood on tip-toe for a moment, then remembered she already had the perfect shoes. Classic black with stiletto heels.
She ran her hands through her hair, raking the long strands away from her face and lifting them into a pony tail then turned sideways again. Yes. Definitely up. She could do it herself—she'd watched enough YouTube videos, but she'd yet to get really good at the intricate styles. She flicked a glance to her phone. She'd already splurged on the dress. What was an extra hairdresser appointment?
Shane grinned and texted her hairdresser telling her the reason and requesting a time early on the seventh. It was late notice and a Saturday, so hopefully she would be available. She clicked back to the main screen and caught her text conversation with Rita. Shane bit her lip. Should she tell her? About the dinner? Just the dress? Or both?
Rita would be over the moon either way. And Shane could swear her to secrecy. Rita hadn't done that badly keeping the secret about Shane opening and reading Holly's letter. And it would be nice to have someone to share the moment. Giddy with delight, Shane tugged the heels out of their box in the closet then snapped a picture in the full-length mirror. She typed Guess who has a date Saturday night? and clicked send.
Rita responded with a string of cat face heart-eye emojis followed by a row of party hats.
You look beautiful. It'll be a wonderful night.
Shane replied with her own heart emoji, then set the phone aside. Now all she needed was for the day to arrive. After a few more twirls in the mirror, she slipped out of the dress and heels, pulling a padded hanger out from the back her closet. Her gaze landed on the orange dress and she sighed. Running her fingers over the light fabric, she apologized once again to it then turned her attention back to the pink dress.
"You, my friend, are not going to have the same experience." She grinned then slid the hanger under the sleeves and hung the dress on her closet door. A dress to build a dream on. With another fond smile, Shane tugged out jeans and a t-shirt, ready for dinner and an evening of binge watching. A few minutes later, she climbed down the stairs and glanced to the front door. The rose. She hadn't checked the rose. Everything was back on track with Oliver, so surely those nubs she'd felt were turning into leaves by now.
But a few minutes later, she found the nubs hadn't changed. Sighing, she sat back on her heels. Well, it was spring now. Maybe fertilizer wouldn't hurt to help jumpstart the growth. She grabbed a bag of granules from her storage shed and sprinkled them around the base, watering them in with her watering can.
She pressed a kiss to her fingers and once more tapped the top of the rose stick. "Come on. You can do it."
##
The next morning, Shane deleted the final email reply about the wedding dress. "Well, that's that."
Oliver looked up from behind his desk, a question carved into his forehead.
"My last lead on the wedding dress came up with nothing." She sighed as her eyes drifted to the ripped box that lay on the credenza behind her.
Oliver rose and joined her, his disappointment mirroring her own. He picked up the box and studied the exterior again then his lips lifted with encouragement. "We will add it to the undeliverable rack, and perhaps one day someone will come in to claim it."
Shane's lips thinned in a resigned smile. "Oliver's Divine Delivery Theory, right?"
Oliver's brow furrowed even as his lips twitched. "What is that?"
Shane's smile grew with real amusement. "It's what I've been mentally calling your belief about packages that get transferred here and that they have their own divine timing for delivery."
Oliver rose on his toes, his lips spreading into a pleased grin. "Ah. I must say, I like it."
Shane chuckled and shook her head then followed Oliver behind the sorting wall and watched him place the box on the top shelf.
After settling it in place, he turned and paused, lips parting on a quick breath. He glanced through the cubby hole and, finding Rita and Norman focused on their duties, he lowered his voice. "I am looking forward to our evening tomorrow night. I will pick you up at seven?"
Shane placed a light hand on Oliver's forearm and nodded, appreciating his attempt to redirect her thoughts to a more pleasant topic. "That's perfect."
He nodded, and before the moment could grow into something deeper, he turned on his heel and headed back to his desk.
Her eyes returned to the box and its undeliverable wedding dress. It was a shame that it was being stuffed away like her orange dress. Shane's fond smile sharpened with interest. But maybe the divine delivery could still happen. She and Oliver were back on the same page. And their dinner on Saturday was sure to be the first of many. Maybe she could buy the wedding dress before it went to auction and have it altered. The style and fabric were too lovely, and Oliver obviously appreciated its classic lines. Her gaze lowered, tracking to Oliver as dreams began to float through her heart.
Or maybe it could still be a wedding dress one day …
##
After three months of waiting and anticipation, the rescheduled date night finally arrived. Shane took one more look in her full-length mirror. The dress was perfect. Her hairdresser had created a beautiful updo. Shane had tipped her well for efforts and flexibility, working another appointment into her already booked schedule. Now, all that was missing was Oli—
The doorbell chimed.
Shane's cheeks heated as she smiled. Perfect timing. Joy fluttered in her heart. What would he think of the dress? Would he tell her she looked beautiful? That it was perfect? Just as he imagined when he dreamed of their first date?
Shane took in a deep breath. Only one way to find out.
She grabbed her cheetah print evening purse, checked to make sure her keys, lipstick, and wallet were inside then flicked off the light and headed to the door.
She grinned as she opened the door then her heart flipped over. It wasn't a tux, but darned if it wasn't the next best thing. Oliver looked as perfectly turned out and handsome as he had the night of the Christmas Ball.
She stood wreathed in the setting sun and porch light and watched Oliver's mouth drop open then close. He swallowed hard. Cleared his throat. Shifted his gaze from her to his car then back. He tugged at his shirt cuffs, then bounced on his toes, lips parting again then closing.
Amusement and joy rippled through her. Oliver O'Toole speechless. It was one of her favorite sights. Right after Oliver O'Toole in a tuxedo. But as his silence continued, worry chased after it clenching her heart.
He was more than speechless. He was nervous. No, he was more than nervous. He was edging toward panic.
Maybe the dress was too much for their first evening out? She licked her lips, then raised her eyebrows in a soft, empathetic query. "Oliver?" When he still said nothing, she placed a light hand on his forearm. "Are you … ready to go?"
He jerked his head in a brief nod and finally found words, although not the ones she'd hoped to hear after such a splurge. "Ah, yes."
Deciding to savor his flustered silence as a win, Shane flashed him an encouraging smile, taking his arm as he escorted her down the steps. When they reached the walkway, she glanced back over her shoulder to the rose twig and sighed. It was still leafless despite the warming temperatures and fertilizer. Maybe she'd just imagined feeling the leaves.
She turned her gaze back to Oliver and his eyes met hers, warming briefly. But at least she hadn't imagined their progress. And this evening would be a night to remember.
##
End
Hit play on the From the Heart date and follow with One in a Million to finish the story.
