Wedding Belles (20 page)

“Y–yes.” She swallowed hard. “W–what are you suggesting…exactly?”

“Just a few changes.” Grace winked. “Nothing huge.”

Lottie felt nauseated at the very idea.

“Do it for you,” Grace said. “Not for Gilbert and not for the people who will be shocked. Do it to build your confidence. Do it because feeling like a lady is a grand feeling. I can help you with your posture so that you have a more ladylike pose. In fact, we could work on that right now.” She took Lottie by the shoulders and led her through a few graceful walking steps.

“Now what?” Lottie asked.

“Now we give Gilbert a glimpse of you he’s never had before.”

“O–oh?”

“Yes. Come out into the dining hall dressed in that gown. We’ll come up with a reason to get him in there. A real bona fide reason. That way it won’t look as if you’re doing this to impress him. It’ll be more natural-like.” She paused then snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it! We’ll tell him he’s needed to hang a rod for the costumes. That’s bona fide.”

“I don’t know, Grace.”

“Sure. It’s bound to work. He’ll come in just in time to see you standing there, looking like a beauty queen, with Flossie hemming your gown.”

“How do you know he’ll come in at just that moment?”

“Oh, you poor, dear girl. You don’t have a clue, do you?” Grace giggled.

“A clue? About what?”

“About men. Trust me when I say that we’ll time things perfectly so that he arrives just as you’re standing there dressed in this glorious gown, which matches your eyes perfectly, I might add. He will be swept away by your beauty.”

“I don’t know.” Lottie paced the room. “Just seems so wrong, to pretend to be something I’m not.”

“Something you’re not?” Grace turned her around to face the mirror once again. “Lottie, give yourself another look. You are exquisite.”

“I—I guess.”

“Come with me. Let’s show the other ladies.” Grace took her by the hand and tugged her out into the dining hall, where she was met with gasps from Flossie and Fanny. Grace excused herself to go find Gilbert while Flossie got to work at hemming the gown.

After a few seconds of staring, Fanny clucked her tongue. “What were you hiding from, Lottie? Under those overalls, I mean?”

“H–hiding?”

“Yes. Clearly you were hiding something. Or maybe hiding
from
something.”

“I don’t know.” She paused to think through her answer before speaking again. “I feel safe in overalls.”

“Safe?”

“Well, for one thing, they hide my…” She paused and pointed to her chest.

“Your curves?” Fanny’s eyes widened. “Honey, some girls I know would kill to be as blessed in abundance as you are.” She chuckled. “And you have the tiniest little waist. I didn’t have a waist like that even when I had a waist.”

“It’s just embarrassing.”

“It’s no sin to accentuate what the good Lord has given you. You’re such a beautiful, vibrant girl on the inside. It’s nice to see it showing on the outside too.”

“I guess.” Lottie felt a little nervous about speaking her thoughts aloud but did so anyway. “I guess I’ve been dressing the part of a wallflower so that I would disappear into the background. Be nonexistent.”

“Why?” Flossie glanced up from her spot on the floor.

“Never really thought about it,” Lottie said.

Flossie gave her a motherly look. “Well, this is just a suggestion, of course, honey, but maybe it’s easier to push people away by dressing differently. That way you’re prepared ahead of time.”

Lottie frowned. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“Just suggesting—and that’s all this is, a suggestion—that you’ve been dressing like a tomboy so that Gilbert
won’t
take an interest in you. That way it won’t hurt so much if he doesn’t seem to notice you.”

Lottie felt a quickening in her heart.

“Maybe you’ve done this to somehow protect your heart,” Flossie said.

“I—I suppose it’s possible,” Lottie said. “Though I never did it on purpose.” She shook her head as the truth set in. “It’s true that I’ve always been afraid of being hurt.”

Flossie nodded. “Sounds like you went to a lot of trouble to accomplish this.”

“Maybe I did.” She sighed. “Funny, how I did it without realizing why. Sounds so silly when I say it out loud.”

“Rejection isn’t silly,” Fanny said. “Trust me when I say that we all know what it feels like. The sting of rejection can be painful, even years after the fact.”

“Yes.” Flossie nodded again. “I can attest to that.”

“So can I.” Fanny shrugged. “So, it appears we have something else in common, then.”

“I guess we do.” Lottie offered the ladies a warm smile. Her feeling of contentment lasted until she caught a glimpse of Gilbert entering the room. Then their eyes met and she saw the shock on his face.

Yes, suddenly she felt very much like a lady.

* * * * *

G
ILBERT STARED AT
L
OTTIE
, completely captivated by the gown she wore. He’d never seen anything so beautiful. As pretty as the dress was, however, it didn’t hold a candle to the girl wearing it. He saw her as if for the first time—the high cheekbones, the upturned nose, the winsome smile, the perfectly placed freckles. Oh, he’d observed those things a thousand times before, of course. Only, today they looked different.
She
looked different.

No, it wasn’t the dress. Not really, though it did show off her figure in a way that startled him. No, there seemed to be something more. Standing here, appearing very much the lady, Lottie seemed more at ease than she had in all the years he’d known her.

And judging from the smile on her face, she recognized it too.

FIFTEEN

P
ERIL IN THE
P
EW

Friends, do you love stories of transformation? If so, then you’re in for the time of your life when you come see the melodrama at Parker Lodge. Watch as characters—both on stage and off—transform before your very eyes. One moment meek and mild, the next filled with courage to face their foes. Who’s transforming, you ask? Why, Miss Information, for one. She transforms from comedic sidekick to strong heroine material. And Ellie Gant, that one-time vixen; she transforms into an elegant lady that folks in town scarcely recognize. Yes, this show is filled with stories of lasting change. But isn’t that just as it should be? Doesn’t life afford us equally as many opportunities? Just something to chew on between now and opening night. —
Your friends at Parker Lodge

O
VER THE NEXT SEVERAL DAYS
, Lottie transformed in much the same way a butterfly nudged its way out of the chrysalis—one painful step at a time. It started with Grace’s insistence that Lottie take a couple of her dresses, ones she claimed didn’t fit now that she’d started eating Jeb’s good cooking. Then Flossie, God bless her, gave Lottie a few lessons in posture. Fanny, always looking at the bright side, decided Lottie could use a few diction lessons, and Sharla, Patricia, and Cherry helped her with her hair.

“You know, those curls are delicious,” Sharla said, brush in hand. “But your hair is actually a lot longer than it looks.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, the curl pulls the hair up several inches, making it appear short. But it’s really not. I believe it’s long enough that it could be pulled up into a chignon.”

Lottie didn’t argue as the ladies went to work, transforming the messy curls into an upswept look that, truly, took her breath away in the end.

“Oh, Lottie.” Cherry stood back. “You’re such a beauty.”

“I—I am?” She gazed in the mirror, completely mesmerized by the face staring back at her.

“Stand up, Lottie.” Patricia took her by the hand and Lottie rose. “Turn around.”

Lottie turned, the soft blue skirt swishing lightly. She’d never had a swishing skirt before and rather liked it. Indeed, gazing at her reflection in the mirror, she had to admit she liked just about everything about this experience. Well, almost everything.

Whether or not Gilbert seemed to notice this gentle transformation, she couldn’t say. He seemed too preoccupied with Winnie and Cornelia to pay much attention. Sure, he’d said a couple of words to her at their last rehearsal, commenting on the dress she’d worn, but other than that he seemed not to notice.

By the time Sunday morning came around, Lottie could hardly wait to go to church in her new blue dress. She’d somehow managed to talk Fanny, Flossie, Prudy, and Grace into meeting her there, but none of the other ladies would budge after the reception they’d received on their first visit. Lottie just kept praying. Surely the Lord could work it all out.

She arrived at the church early, ready for an encounter with the Lord. What she got was an encounter with Reverend Brighton.

“Lottie?” He took a seat in the pew next to her. “I had to look twice to make sure it was you.”

“It’s me.” She offered a shy smile, which he returned.

“Well, you’re a vision of loveliness. But then, you always have been.” His fatherly smile offered assurance.

“Thank you.” She felt her cheeks grow warm.

The reverend glanced back at the chapel door. “Look, I haven’t really shared this with anyone but my wife, but I think what you’re doing is admirable. Helping the Parkers raise the funds to save their lodge. Bringing the ladies to Estes Park and sharing the love of the Lord with them.”

“Oh, Reverend.” Tears stung her eyes. “You’ve made my day. My week. My month!”

He patted her on the shoulder. “Well, good. And just for the record, I believe the scuttlebutt going on with the Women’s League is ridiculous.”

“No doubt the enemy is stirred up,” Lottie said. “The Lord has led these women from all over the country to our little town. He’s entrusted them to us. Mrs. Parker says she believes that, instead of our going into all the world to spread the gospel, the Lord has brought the world to our doorstep.”

“What an appropriate thought.”

“Oh, Reverend, if you only knew everything. These women are meant to be here, in Estes Park. Some of them have never known the Lord, but I truly believe in my heart of hearts that they can find Him here, if folks will just reach out to them in love.”

“Of course.” He rose and paced the aisle, finally coming to a stop. “Lottie, I will add my prayers to yours. You know what the Bible says about the power of two people praying together.”

“Thank you, Reverend. Those women need people who will share God’s love. And now that I’ve gotten to know each one, it’s so clear why He has gathered together these particular women for the show.”

“Yes. And my wife has come up with an idea that she hopes will help your cause. She plans to enter a pie in that contest at the pie parlor. It’s a key lime pie recipe. Very tasty. If she wins, every woman in town will know that she’s linked arms with the Parker family. In other words, it will send a message to the masses.” He smiled. “Or, as we said in seminary, ‘That’ll preach.’ ”

Lottie grinned. “How can I ever thank you?”

“Put in a good word for my wife’s pie?” He chuckled. For a moment, anyway. His brow wrinkled as several parishioners came through the back door of the church and made their way up the aisle. The reverend lowered his voice. “I daresay, in the grand scheme of things, all of this has nothing to do with a made-up melodrama. It has everything to do with the very real drama that’s transpiring right in front of us—one that doesn’t require a stage or costumes or even rehearsed lines.”

“I never thought of that,” she whispered as her mother took the spot in the pew beside her.

“Never thought of what?” her mother asked.

Thank goodness, Althea Baker distracted Mama when she took the seat directly in front of them. At that very moment Grace, Prudy, Fanny, and Flossie arrived. They nudged their way into the pew next to Althea, who scooted down—not to make room, but clearly to avoid them. Fanny gave her a warm smile and a cheerful, “Happy Lord’s Day!” to which Althea just nodded.

Minutes later Jeb and Phineas entered. Jeb took the seat in front of Fanny and Althea, and Phineas sat just behind Flossie. Lottie couldn’t help but smile. Well, until she saw the expression on Althea’s face as she noticed the attention Jeb was paying to Fanny.
Is she jealous?
What an interesting revelation.

As the organist played the opening hymn, Althea kept her gaze on Jeb, who kept turning to give Fanny quick glances. All of this Lottie observed from a couple of rows behind them.

Other than one moment when Fanny dropped a hymnal, the service was uneventful. Lottie wanted to go back to the lodge with the ladies for lunch but knew better. Sunday was family day, and with her sister back in town, spending time at home was more important than ever.

Less than an hour later, the Sanders family sat around the table while Becky, their cook, served up Sunday dinner.

“Smells good enough to eat, Becky,” Lottie’s father said with a smile.

“It’s your favorite, Mr. Sanders. Steak.” She put the platter on the table.

Winnie wrinkled her nose. “Eating beef really isn’t good for my figure. In Denver I learned that beef is bad for the constitution and it adds weight.” She took the tiniest sliver.

“That beef has given you the life you’ve craved from the time you were a little girl,” her father said. “So eat up. I won’t be hearing any more about how bad it is for you.”

Winnie cut off a small bite and put it in her mouth then made a face.

Lottie reached for a big piece then added a scoop of mashed potatoes to her plate, followed by a hefty helping of Becky’s homegrown green beans.

“You might want to slow your pace, Lottie,” her mother said. “Becky has made a tasty custard for dessert.”

“Actually…” Her father squirmed a bit in his seat. “I picked up dessert yesterday when I was in town. Well, not in town, exactly…” He took a bite of his steak.

Lottie’s mother frowned. “You shopped for food? Well, this is a first!”

“I couldn’t help myself. I’d stopped by Parker Lodge to have a little visit with Gilbert, and—”

“You went to Parker Lodge?” Lottie’s mother dropped her fork. Her mouth hung open in an unladylike fashion. “Am I to understand that my husband actually went to that, that…” Her faced turned redder than the tomatoes on the salad.