Season of Sisters (34 page)

"Tomorrow?"

Her husband caught the chauffeur's gaze and gestured toward the oleander bush at the end of the driveway where, Grace noticed for the first time, her overnight bag sat. "Where are we going?"

Maggie ushered her toward the car. "The Pink Sisterhood sale. Just like I told you."

"Where is the wedding gown sale?"

Busy taking their seats, neither Maggie nor Holly responded. Grace finally got her answer when Ben leaned into the car and fastened her seat belt as if she were a toddler in a car seat. "If y'all have any extra time and get a chance to run by Busch Stadium, I'd sure like a Cardinals tee shirt."

Grace, knowledgeable about baseball after living with a true fan for almost fifty years, gasped. "Busch Stadium? St. Louis? We're going to St. Louis?"

"And buy snow globes of the arch for the grandkids, too."

She was speechless as the limo pulled away from her house. In fact, she didn't find her voice until they were halfway to the airport. Summoning control, she quietly asked, "Would one of you please explain?"

Maggie pulled an emery board from her purse and began filing her nails. "Now sugar, no need for conniptions. I was talking with Charlene Roberts about a directed wish I've decided to grant to a young mother who wants to take her children to the Grand Canyon, and she mentioned they were extremely short on volunteer workers at this weekend's sale."

"But a last minute plane ticket like this, they're so expensive."

"Don't you worry about that. I have oodles of frequent flier miles and we're all gonna share my hotel suite and by buying your dress from Pink Sisterhood you'll be supporting the foundation."

Grace frowned. "I can't accept—"

Holly reached over and clasped Grace's hand. "Please, Grace. She needs this. It's been a bad week."

Immediately, Grace's self-concern vanished. "Oh, honey. What happened?"

"The boys are being their father's sons. John came by the other day and things seemed to be better between us. Then I asked him to be my date to your party. He started crying, Grace. My big, handsome, grown-up boy sat down on my sofa and cried like he did when he was five. I feel so bad. I really want to get away from it, at least for a day or two. When Charlene told me how desperate she was for helpers, this excursion seemed like the perfect answer. Say it's okay, Grace. Please?"

"Just don't do it again. You're a doll, but I don't like surprises."

Grace's brows arched upon taking her seat in first class, another new experience for her, but she didn't comment. Maggie and Holly were giggling like schoolgirls and she hated to spoil their mood. Especially since they probably wouldn't understand her objection to their doing something nice for her.

Grace wasn't certain she understood her feelings herself. She'd always been an independent person. And proud. Too proud, maybe. That characteristic had served her well during most of her life and proved helpful while fighting her disease. Pride and independence walked hand in hand with strength, in Grace's opinion.
Heaven knows, a woman needs all the strength she can get while fighting for her life.

However, that same strength and pride and independence made it difficult to ask for help, to accept the charity of others. Limo rides and first-class tickets were lovely. It pleased her to know her friends thought enough of her to go out of their way like this. But at the same time, she found the experience humbling. Almost humiliating. She'd always paid her way in life, and now, because of insurance premiums and pharmaceutical co-pays and disallowed claims, every penny she and Ben scraped together was marked to pay one bill or another.

Poor Ben. He was the one who should be sitting here in first class taking a trip just for fun. He'd given up so much for her over the past eight years. He should be enjoying this treat instead of her.
I'll get by Busch Stadium to get him his tee shirt if I have to walk.

From her seat across the aisle, Maggie said something to a male flight attendant that made him burst out laughing. Holly looked at Grace and shook her head. "The woman is a natural-born flirt."

A brokenhearted flirt,
Grace thought. She was worried about Maggie. Her laughs were too brittle, her smiles too false. If Mike Prescott were to wander down the aisle of this airplane at the moment, Grace would be hard-pressed not to fling her ginger ale into the man's face.

In the relatively short time she'd known them, Grace had come to love Maggie, and Holly, too, as if they were her own. They were Friends with a capital F, better in some ways than family. Grace felt blessed to have them in her life, even if they did act a bit high-handed in arranging shopping trips.

At some point, Grace needed to sit down and talk with them about it. Even if their hearts were in the right place, they needed to understand she couldn't, wouldn't, accept more... charity. That's exactly what this trip was. Frequent flier miles were just like money, after all. Donated frequent flier miles were gold to the Pink Sisterhood Foundation, providing tickets for Disney World wishes and the like. And a hotel suite? If Maggie had made this trip alone, she wouldn't rent an entire suite for a night. "On second thought, maybe she would."

"I'm sorry, Grace," Holly said. "Did you say something?"

"No. Just mumbling to myself. I think I'll try to take a little nap. This is shaping up to be a very busy day."

A little after noon, they arrived at the wedding gown sale. Rather than being located in a hotel ballroom, today's event was being hosted by the St. Louis Junior League in a beautiful room at their facility. The moment Charlene Roberts spied them, her eyes lit up like twin searchlights. "Grace. Maggie. Holly. It's so wonderful of you to come."

She gave them quick hugs, threw volunteer tee shirts their way, and told them where to get to work. "We're here to shop, too, Charlene," Maggie cautioned as she tugged on the bright pink shirt. "Grace needs to find her dress."

Charlene nodded. "I went through the gowns last night after setup and pulled out the suits and other dresses I thought would be appropriate. Grace has her own reserved rack and of course, she's welcome to shop whenever she wants."

They went right to work, naturally falling into the assignments they'd had at the Fort Worth sale. Grace noticed Maggie in a huddle with Charlene a time or two throughout the afternoon and she felt a shimmer of unease, wondering what mischief her friend was cooking up now.

Sales were brisk and the women kept busy until Maggie convinced Grace to break for a soft drink during a midafternoon lull. Cokes in hand, they took seats in the restaurant and debated the day's most obnoxious mother of the bride until Holly strode into the room, raving.

"Maggie? Have you looked at the vintage racks?"

"Yes. I helped the sweetest girl find a vintage gown not twenty minutes ago."

"Did you go through the size eights?"

"No. She was a sixteen."

"So you haven't seen it. It's still there. I cannot believe it's still there."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your wedding gown. It hasn't sold yet. It's the most beautiful gown on the racks and I can't believe these silly girls are too clueless to see that. They're so busy shopping for strapless dresses to show off their buff bods that they look right past the beauty and workmanship and romance of a gown like yours."

She grabbed an apple from a basket set out for volunteers, took a bite, and plopped down into the seat beside Maggie. Grace debated whether or not to mention the fact that the dress likely hadn't sold due to her own actions.

During the Pink Sisterhood sale in Fort Worth, she had asked Charlene to set the gown aside. Though Maggie had donated the gown in good faith, Grace believed she'd acted precipitously, out of emotion rather than true desire. Maggie would come to regret the impulsive act as soon as she resumed thinking with her head rather than her heart. It would be such a shame if the gown were gone by then.

Maggie said, "Don't feel offended on my behalf. I know why the gown hasn't sold. Last time I called Charlene, I asked if anyone had purchased my dress and if she had a name and address so I could send the bride a note of good wishes and fill her in on the history of the gown. Well, Charlene got to looking and eventually found it on a rack of gowns needing to be mended. Today's sale is the first time it's been out for girls to look at."

Not for long if Grace had anything to say about it. First thing she'd do upon finishing this break would be to fetch Maggie's dress from the vintage rack and hide it among the dresses reserved for her. Ten minutes later, that's exactly what she did.

A steady stream of shoppers kept them busy throughout the afternoon. At about two-thirty, one of the local volunteers drove Grace to the nearby hotel so she could check into their room and rest for an hour or so. She returned to the Junior League facility shortly after five to find Maggie ringing up the sale for the day's final purchase.

"It's a record, Grace," Charlene Roberts told her as she tallied up the take. "Thirty-one thousand dollars today. That's at least six wishes we can grant. This is awesome."

Holly said, "After all the media coverage, I expect we'll have a bigger crowd tomorrow."

Maggie closed and locked the door behind the delighted bride, her mother, and the oversize bag containing a wedding gown, slip, and veil. Moments later she opened it again so that a quartet of shoppers who'd been dallying in the dressing room were able to leave. "Is that everyone
?"'

"I think so," Holly responded.

"Excellent. Grace, are you ready to shop?"

While in her hotel room Grace had removed the girdle from her suitcase that Ben had so helpfully packed. Now she reached into her handbag and waved it about with a flourish. "Aye aye, Captain."

"Shall we adjourn to the dressing room, then, ladies? Holly, you want to grab Grace's rack from the storage room where we left it?"

Holly had spent the final hour of the sale cleaning up the dressing room, so only a handful of gowns remained on the "go back" rack. Charlene saw to those while Maggie brought in a vegetable tray with assorted dips she'd ordered from the restaurant. "A waitress is right behind me with water and soft drinks, coffee, and cookies. I thought a little snack might be in order to tide us over to dinner. I've ordered a bottle of champagne, and some sparkling cider, too, for those of us who shouldn't mix alcohol with our meds."

Maggie placed the tray on a table set against the wall, then grabbed a poofy bit of lace from one of the veil racks that stretched down the center of the room. Plopping it on her head, she grabbed a carrot stick and sprawled in one of two upholstered chairs they had commandeered from the entry hall.

"All right, party girl," she said, flourishing her carrot stick like a baton. "It's time to strip."

"Maggie," Holly protested. "Have some sensitivity. Grace might not feel comfortable undressing in front of us. We're not at Silke's Boutique with its private dressing rooms, you know. That's why I set up a screen for her."

"That's all right, Holly." Grace pulled off her pink volunteer tee shirt, then began unbuttoning the white blouse she wore beneath it. "Actually, I used to be much more modest than I am now. Before my surgery, I'd have been hard-pressed to undress in front of a group of women, but having a mastectomy changed that. Doctors, nurses, technicians, curious friends and family. Why, in the past eight years, I've had more people look at my chest than a Playboy centerfold."

Maggie, Holly, and Charlene chuckled at that as Grace slipped off her blouse to reveal a plain, functional pocket bra. "This is my favorite bra. It's new. I like the silhouette it gives my body. Combine it with the extra-super-put-your-rear-in-a-vise girdle, and I think I look pretty good for an old broad."

"Sugar, you look great," Maggie said, hopping up to rifle through the rack of gowns. "If there were a Mrs. Golden Anniversary Beauty Pageant you'd win it hands down. My oh my, these dresses are lovely. Randall at Silke's would have a jealous fit if he saw these. You know what? I think we need a system. How about we start with the suits, then work our way toward the shorter dresses, then the longer gowns? That way we'll... hey, this is my dress. What's it doing on Grace's rack?"

"I put it there."

Maggie's face lit up. "You want to wear my gown? Really?"

"Not exactly." Grace managed to turn her back to Holly without being obvious, then she waggled her brows in warning.

"It's a wedding gown—a beautiful, fabulous, wonderful wedding gown—not an anniversary party dress. After Holly mentioned it, I hunted it up. I've thought about the story you told of the Belgian lace and your grandfather and World War Two. I wanted to get a look at it again. Then I got to thinking about all the dreams this wedding gown represents. Your grandparents', yours, Mike's, the person's who made this lovely lovely lace. We've said it before, I know, but it bears repeating. A wedding gown is much more than simply a dress."

Grace hung Maggie's wedding gown on the end of the rack and spread out the train. "Look at this, girls. Think about it. In the sisterhood of women, the words 'My wedding gown' speak to much more than a dress. They're subtext, a code of communication that arises from deep within the feminine soul and goes far beyond satin, lace, beading, and embroidery."

"I like the sound of it, but I'm afraid I'm not following you one bit," Maggie said, her gaze shifting away from the gown.

"It's a bit off the wall, I know, but I've been mulling this over for some time. Don't think about the dress per se; think of the symbol. The dress a woman chooses to wear on her wedding day is an outward symbol of the very essence of being female. Whether it's white satin, lace, and a long flowing train or denim jeans and a tee shirt, the outfit a woman chooses to wear while repeating her wedding vows will always and forever symbolize her at one of her most powerful moments."

"That's true." Holly walked around Maggie's gown, her expression filled with wistful admiration. "No one is more powerful than a bride on her wedding day."