The Perfect Wedding. Arlene JamesЧитать онлайн книгу.
“All right. OK,” Rod said. “We have to start somewhere. So where would you advise?”
Layne got a grip on herself. “We could start,” she said thoughtfully, “with the wedding gown. That would give me some idea of how formal an affair you want and how much money you expect to spend.”
“Money’s no object,” he said quickly, but she had to wonder if he really knew what kind of money they could be talking about. The gown alone could command thousands, but somehow she didn’t think that was Dedrah March’s style—or Rod Corley’s, for that matter.
“Let me show you a few things,” she suggested, looking pointedly at Dedrah to let the girl know that she was interested in her opinion. The girl nodded, and Corley pushed his chair around to her side, so that both of them faced Layne. She walked to a pair of wide, mirrored doors and opened them to reveal a large room lined with hanging gowns and a spacious freestanding changing booth.
Quickly she went from one rack to another, extracting half a dozen dresses in various styles and price ranges. These she placed on a rolling rack, which she wheeled into the consultation area. There, she took them down one by one and held them out for the couple’s inspection, beginning with a simply tailored street-length sheath costing less than two hundred dollars. Rod shook his head sternly at this, and she smiled to herself. Well, it was progress, however slight. The next dress, tea length with a tulip skirt sewn onto a fitted, dropped-waist bodice received the same reception from him, as did the ankle-length princess-style with a demure sweetheart neckline and a sweep train. Dedrah March simply stared, saying nothing, her expression unreadable. When Layne produced the fourth dress, a floor-length traditional gown with a wedding ring collar and fitted bodice trimmed with lace, its full skirt elongated into a court train, Rod Corley nodded with satisfaction.
“That’s more like it.”
Dedrah glanced down at the little one in her lap, who was mumbling quietly around her fingers. She said nothing about the dress, but her frown indicated displeasure. Layne bit back another inappropriate question and looked to Rod Corley for guidance. His glance followed her own, and his mouth turned down at the corners. When he once again met her gaze, his irritation was evident, but he nodded for her to go on. Reluctantly Layne took another dress from the rack and presented it with a flourish.
“This one is a good deal more formal,” she said. “The fitted bodice with portrait neckline and Basque waist is appliquéd in lace with seed pearls scattered throughout, as is the hem of the bouffant skirt. The chapel train is separate and extends about four feet from the waist. The cuffs of the Gibson sleeve are four inches long and also appliquéd. The dress runs about twelve hundred dollars, plus alterations.”
Both she and Rod looked to Dedrah, whose frown was firmly fixed. Layne rehung the gown and took down the final one. It was considerably more ornate, satin and organza literally encrusted in lace, pearls and frosted sequins. There were bows, some small and others enormous enough to serve as a bustle, a keyhole back, a skirt so full it was both gathered and pleated at the natural waist, leg-of-mutton sleeves, jewel neckline and a detachable cathedral train some three yards in length. At five thousand dollars, it was the most expensive gown in the house. Yet Dedrah’s gaze was almost bland.
“It’s very pretty,” she said, then shook her head. Rod Corley pitched forward in irritation, causing Layne to hastily intercede.
“These are just examples of the different types of gowns,” she explained. “There are many, many styles to choose from. If I could just get an idea of what type of dress you’re interested in…”
Again Dedrah turned those big, bland eyes up at her and shrugged. Rod Corley smacked his hat against his thigh in frustration, grinding his teeth.
“She won’t choose,” he said. “I knew I should’ve made Sammy come!”
At that Dedrah clamped her teeth down onto her bottom lip, bowed her head and began to cry. The baby, sensing her mother’s distress, squirmed and babbled loudly. Layne realized that soon they would both be in tears, thanks to Rod Corley, if she didn’t do something quickly. She shot him a look that told him just who she blamed for the whole situation and watched his mouth drop open, but she had other things to think about at the moment. Taking a deep breath, she sent up a quick, silent prayer for patience and guidance, then threw the dress over the rack, stepped forward and lifted the baby off Dedrah March’s lap.
“It’s all right,” the girl protested, but she said nothing more as Layne thrust the baby at Corley.
“Of course it is,” Layne said soothingly, “but perhaps you’d like a drink of water. Why don’t you come with me?”
Dedrah nodded and let Layne help her to her feet. Layne ushered the girl through a louvered door set in the corner by the window, down a narrow hallway and through a second door into the workroom, where she pointed out the watercooler. While Dedrah filled a paper cone with water, Layne weighed the wisdom of what she was about to say. It mattered not that it might cost her a customer. She simply didn’t want to reduce the girl to tears again, but Dedrah appeared firmly in control now. Layne took a deep breath, whispered a quick prayer and folded her arms across her middle.
“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” she asked.
Dedrah looked up in surprise. “The wedding, you mean?” Layne nodded, and Dedrah smiled wistfully. “I do want to get married,” the girl said. “I just don’t know how it got so complicated.”
“I’d say that was Mr. Corley’s doing,” Layne commented archly.
Dedrah nodded glumly. “Yeah, I suppose it is, but he’s such a great guy, you know? He’s been really good to us, Heather and me, and he’s so generous. It’s just that he’s kind of a take-charge guy, and I guess he’s pretty hardheaded, too. Boy, once he’s made up his mind to something…” She let the sentence trail off and shook her head. “You know he’s just trying to do what’s best, but that doesn’t always make it any easier. It’s just so difficult to tell him to back off once he’s got something in his head.”
Layne didn’t know quite what to make of that description. A great guy, was he? She didn’t know if she’d have put that label to him. Generous, maybe, but no doubt the hardheaded part was most apt. “Still,” she said, “you shouldn’t let him force you into anything.”
Dedrah lifted her hands in a gesture of futility. “It’s just so complicated,” she said softly, “the whole thing, and I suppose it’s mostly my fault to begin with. It just seemed so simple once. You’re in love, you do what seems natural and too late you realize what a mistake it was. But you live with it, because you love him.” She bowed her head, then added hopefully, “We’ll work it out.”
Layne nodded. “Often those things that seem simple and natural are the ones that get us in the most trouble,” Layne said gently. “Just remember that God always loves us and that He’s always ready to help us find our way.”
She’d embarrassed the girl, and obviously Dedrah had been embarrassed plenty already. Her situation had to be a difficult one, and Layne knew she’d interfered in something that really wasn’t any of her business. Enough was enough. She forced herself to relax. “Let’s return to the consultation room,” she said, “if you’re ready.”
“Sure. I’m sorry to put you to so much trouble.”
“No trouble,” Layne replied lightly. “Weddings are very emotional. I’m used to clients who dissolve in tears.” It was too true, but Dedrah smiled doubtfully.
“Well, thanks, anyway,” the girl said, then she tossed her paper cone into the trash can beside the cooler and moved past Layne back the way they’d come.
When they entered the consultation room, giggles greeted them. Dedrah stopped in her tracks and put her hands together, laughing gently. Curious, Layne stepped around her to see what had wrought this transformation. To her surprise, Rod Corley was holding up baby Heather and blowing against her tummy, making the baby