But somehow, these two blonde, enhanced ladies seemed to be able to carry them off.
"Lisa?" Nancy sounded impatient now. As a Hollywood star she was probably used to immediate attention.
"Day after tomorrow," said Lisa quickly. The truth was her seamstress was always available. She would call her later.
She hesitated for a second, her eyes flitting from person to person, "You're sure? About the dresses?"
Nancy didn't even give the other two a chance to answer. "Oh, believe me, they're sure," she said decisively. "Add in the shoes and the headpieces." She glanced at her watch. "Now I know the color I can order their bouquets. Kaitlin at the florists will be relieved."
She headed straight to the door, her eyes fixed on the screen of her phone barely even looking in Lisa's direction again before swinging open the door and striding out on to the street.
The instant derisive dismissal rankled. She almost felt like shouting down the street after her And how will you be paying? But even she wasn't that stupid.
Polly and Ruby were already discarding their dresses with the same care and attention as earlier. It didn't even seem to occur to them that these would be the actual dresses they would be wearing in a week or so. Polly pulled hers upwards, wriggling and tugging with the sound of a few seams stressing. Ruby let hers fall to her feet, then stood on it, still wearing her pointy stilettos, as she took a call.
"Move," said Lisa harshly, as she nudged her with her shoulder to retrieve the dress.
Within a few minutes both women were dressed and Polly was helping herself to more chocolate as they left. Neither of them asked what time or day to return. It seemed that appointments didn't mean that much to Hollywood stars.
Neither of them closed the door causing a gust of wind to sweep into the shop, rustling the dresses on the rails and tinkling the glass on the chandelier above her.
In a way it was a complete relief. It was only a week until the wedding. They'd spend the rest of the time dealing with the seamstress. She'd hardly need to see them again.
The warm breeze unexpectedly chilled her. The wrinkled mandarin dresses swung on the rail in front of her. Even without thinking about it, her feet took her back to the stockroom. Back to the corner where the dresses had been wedged.
They weren't the only dresses to be hidden in here. At the very back, covered in a clear wrapper was another dress. A dress that had been hidden for the last few years.
She gulped. The sample dress she'd ordered for her wedding.
She'd tried to forget it was even there. It wasn't like she'd ever wear it. This had been the dress for her wedding to Joe – the one with a preliminary date set but no other details worked out. But of course, the owner of Married in Marietta would have had ideas for her dream dress. She might have even gone ahead and ordered a sample of the same dress – just to make sure it was really what she wanted.
Her hand trembled as she pulled the dress out and unzipped the cover.
Lisa had planned on being a traditional bride – not one wearing black. Her dress was palest cream duchesse satin, but the fabric was embroidered with tiny pink bows all over. There were no actual bows in sight, but anyone up close would notice the detail. She'd fallen in love with this dress with a sweeping train as soon as she'd seen it in a magazine.
It had meant something to her. And it had meant something to Melody. Their sister Grace had loved pink bows. She'd had them on everything. Her hair, her bed linen, her pajamas, her blanket, and her teddy bears.
A dress like this was special. A dress like this had meant she would still have both her sisters with her on her wedding day.
The sentiment of that now made her stomach do flip-flops. Melody had seen the dress. Melody had known how she felt about everything. It still hadn't stopped her from sleeping with Joe.
Lisa bit her lip and gave the dress a shake. It was still beautiful. It would just never be her dress. She would never even consider wearing it now.
She glanced at the price tag, blinked and then tore it off. This dress would fit someone else. She pulled another price tag from behind the cash desk and rewrote it. One third of the original price. Someone would want it. Someone would buy it.
She hung it on the rail next to the others. It was nearly six o'clock. Time for her shift at the hospital.
Chapter Seven
‡
She was curled up next to a little girl again. Not on the bed. This time the child, dressed in pajamas and covered in a thick pink blanket was on Lisa's knee, tucked under her chin on a recliner chair.
Lisa's voice carried outside. It was calming and melodic even though the pitch and tone changed depending where she was in the story.
Tonight's rendition was Sleeping Beauty.
The little girl's fingers stroked the pages of the well-worn book. Adam tried not to flinch at the thought of an infection risk. Sometimes he just couldn't push the doctor stuff out of his head.
He glanced at the board for the name. Alice Kearsley. Of course. The little girl with leukaemia. He frowned. It was the middle of summer and the hospital was stifling yet Alice was obviously cold. But Lisa, who was probably sweltering under that blanket, didn't seem to mind.
He walked over to the desk. "Any problems I should know about?"
Mary lifted her head from the computer. "Anyone in particular you're concerned about?" she said pointedly.
"Alice Kearsley. She's bundled up and it's hot in here. Has there been a change in her condition?"
Mary lifted a chart and handed it to him. "Take a look. I did her observations just before Lisa arrived. Nothing unusual."
He ran his eye down the chart. Mary was right. Maybe he was over-reacting.
He walked back to the doorway. Neither Lisa or Alice seemed to notice. Both were too engrossed in the story.
"She's so beautiful," sighed Alice. "I would love to look like a princess, just like she does." There was that whimsical tone in her voice. The one from a child who actually still believed in fairy tales.
Lisa's full attention was on the little girl. She reached up and stroked her hair. "When you feel a little better you can come to my bridal salon. I'll let you try on any dress that you want. I can make you any kind of princess," she said quietly.
"Can I? Can I really?"
"Of course."
Something twisted inside his guts. The words were obviously heartfelt. It was clear she meant every one. But he still couldn't figure her out. What was she doing here? And why the reaction the other night?
No matter how hard he tried, the tiny comment about income and money had niggled him. There was no way Lisa could know about his lottery win. As far as he knew, no one in Marietta knew about it.
He liked her. There was no way around it. But there seemed to be so much about Lisa that he didn't know.
All he knew for certain was that her kiss had stayed with him. He'd never felt a sizzle like it before. Maybe it was all the flirting beforehand? But, as a teenager, he'd dated a girl for months before kissing her, and it hadn't felt anything like that.
Mary walked up alongside him and folded her arms. "You should talk to her, you know."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, you've been hanging around here for the last few days. And no offence, Adam, but I know it's not me you're here to see."
He hesitated. Lisa was still focused on Alice. They'd gone back to the Sleeping Beauty story. Alice's eyes were slowly beginning to droop.
"Why does she come here? Why does she do this?"
He turned to face Mary who bit her lip. She glanced in the room again. "That's her business. You'll need to ask her." She reached out and touched his arm. "A little tip, give her a minute or two after she comes out."
Mary turned and walked down the corridor leaving him intrigued. He moved a bit further away and after a few minutes Lisa came out, closing the door quietly behind her.
She stood for a second, then fumbled in her pocket for a tissue, wiping her eyes.
The act was like a winter's breeze on a summer's day. Every hair at the back of his neck stood on end and his breath caught in his chest. Lisa wasn't related to this child. She only knew this child through her work at the hospital but it was obvious she'd connected with her.
Alice's leukaemia was severe. The treatment was taking its toll on her little body and she wasn't responding quite the way they'd hoped. Right now, this little girl couldn't be promised any happy ever afters.
He couldn't stop his feet from moving. Everything about this was pure instinct. He couldn't bear to watch her cry.
He crossed the corridor in a matter of moments and put his arm around her shoulders pulling her towards him. There was the briefest hint of recognition before she buried her head into his chest and quietly sobbed. He moved, walking her away from the room and across the corridor towards another room, closing the door behind them.