The Wedding Dress(3)

The feathery kiss of destiny sent a shiver over her soul as the breeze rushing over the mountaintop tapped her legs. Did she smell rain? Dipping her head to see beyond the lip of the tent, Charlotte saw nothing but the glorious sun possessing a crystal blue sky. Not one vanilla cloud in sight.

She started down the next aisle and her phone buzzed from her jeans pocket. Dixie.

“Hey, Dix, everything okay at the shop?”

“Quiet. But Tawny called. She wants to meet with you tomorrow at three.”

Sunday? “Is everything all right? Did she sound okay? Like she was still happy with us?” Charlotte had spent months trying to find the perfect gown for Miss Alabama, lying awake at night, whispering to the God of love to help her fulfill Tawny’s dreams.

Then she discovered a new, small designer out of Paris and Charlotte knew she’d found her own brand of white-silk gold. “Call her back and tell her tomorrow is fine. Do we have crackers and cheese in the refreshment bar? Coffee, tea, water, and soda?”

“We’re all stocked. Tawny seemed enthusiastic, so I don’t think she’s going to tell you she’s going with another shop.”

“How long have we been working in the bridal gown business together, Dix?”

“Five years, ever since you opened this place.” Dix, forever pragmatic and calm.

“And how many times have we lost a customer at the last minute?” Even after countless hours of scouring designers to find the perfect gown.

“We didn’t know what we were doing then. We’re the experts now,” Dixie said.

“You know very well it has nothing to do with us. Listen, I’ll call Tawny and tell her we’d be happy to see her tomorrow.”

“Already told her. Didn’t think you’d want to turn her down.” Dixie’s voice always carried the weight of confidence. She was a godsend. Support beams for Charlotte’s dream. “So, where are you anyway, Char?”

“Up on Red Mountain. At the Ludlow estate. I came up here to think but ran into the annual auction crowd. I’m wandering among the antiques as we speak.”

“People or things?”

Charlotte grinned, scanning the gray heads among the aisles. “A little of both.” She paused in front of a locked glass of jewels. Unique pieces were the perfect accent for her brides. Charlotte maintained an inventory of one-of-a-kind necklaces, earrings, bracelets, and tiaras. It was the small things that helped seal her success.

“Speaking of weddings,” Dixie said low and slow.

“Were we?”

“Aren’t we always? Your wedding invitations are still on the storeroom desk, Charlotte. Do you want me to bring them home tonight?” Dix and her husband, Jared, Dr. Hotstuff as she called him, lived in the Homewood loft next door to Charlotte.

“Wait . . . really? They’re still on the storeroom desk? I thought I took them home.”

“If you did, they walked back.”

“Ha, ha, funny girl you are, Dixie. Yeah, sure, bring them home. I can work on them tomorrow after church. I need to see if Mrs. Rose has a guest list for Tim’s side—”

“You’re meeting with Tawny at three.”

“Right, okay, after I meet with her. Or I can work on them Monday night. I don’t think I have anything Monday night.”

“Charlotte, can I ask you something?”

“No—”

“You’re getting married in two months and—”

“I’ve just been busy, Dixie, that’s all.” Charlotte knew where her friend was going with her inquiry. Charlotte had been asking herself the same questions for weeks now, and the need for answers drove her up the mountain today. “I’ve got time.”

“But it’s running out.”

She knew. She knew. “We should’ve picked a fall wedding date. Fast engagement, fast wedding . . . it has me spinning.”

“Tim is an amazing man, Charlotte.”

She knew. She knew. But was he amazing for her? “Listen, I’d better go. I need to get back down the mountain in a few minutes so I can get my hair done. Call you later.”

“Have fun tonight, Charlotte. Don’t let Katherine get to you. Tell her to bug off. Just be there with Tim. Remember why you fell in love in the first place.”

“I’ll try.” Charlotte hung up, Dixie’s advice settling in her thoughts. Remember why you fell in love in the first place.

It’d all been heart pounding and romantic. She wasn’t sure she could identify a real, solid reason out of the whirlwind. As Charlotte made her way down the aisle to leave the tent, she found herself herded to one side by a gathering crowd.

She smiled at the man beside her and tried to step around him. “Excuse me.” He didn’t budge, but remained planted, staring pointedly at the item about to be auctioned.

“Pardon me, but if you could let me through, I’ll be out of your way. Are you bidding on that—” Charlotte looked over her shoulder. “Trunk?” That ugly trunk?

“Gather around, everybody.” The auctioneer jumped onto the riser next to the trunk. The crowd of fifteen or twenty surged forward, taking Charlotte with them. She stumbled back, losing her clog in the process. “We’re about to start bidding.”

Fishing around for her shoe, Charlotte decided to wait it out. The bidders on this item seemed determined. How long could the auction be? Ten minutes? Might be kind of fun to see the whole process up close.