through a few more. “I was talked into doing a collection for brides like they do for Gown Town. This whole rack is going to be donated and will make someone’s special day. But you’d make mine if I could see you in this.” She pulled out a classic A-line, strapless, satin gown.
What could it hurt? Melissa nodded and Mitzi turned her around, facing away from the mirror. She helped Melissa into the dress and zipped it up. “Don’t move. I’m twisting your hair up so you can get the full effect.”
She pulled Melisa’s hair into a tight knot and stuck a pencil into the bun to hold it in place.
“Ow,” Melissa smoothed her hand over her crown. “Feels like you’re giving me a facelift.”
“I can’t believe you’ve come here more times than I can count and I’ve never gotten you into one of these.”
“That’s because I never had a reason to try one on.”
“Correction. You never let yourself have a reason.” She helped Melissa onto the pedestal with one hand while the other fisted the fabric in at her waist. “Lord, child, as much as I hate planning weddings, I would come out of retirement to plan yours.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about that. Ever.”
“I’m not saying your Auntie Jo was wrong or that your matchmaker thing is bullshit. But I’ve seen a million brides come through my doors, and not one of them would have stood on that pedestal you’re on unless they opened themselves up to love.” She turned Melissa around to face the mirror.
Wow. Melissa brushed tears away. Wow. Yeah, she wanted to the bride. She wanted to be Shane’s bride.
“Courtship, a wedding, that’s all a fairytale, Melissa, but love? Love is some scary stuff. But it’s the good stuff, Melissa. The really good stuff.”
Melissa shook her head, swiped at her eyes, and tried to laugh it off. “If this is your idea of a sales pitch, you’d better hope I keep sending brides your way.”
“Your mother’s not the only one who never got over losing your daddy, honey. But losing is part of love. It hurts like hell, but love is worth it. You’re worth it.”
Melissa gathered up the skirt, jumped down off the pedestal, and couldn’t get out of that dress and away from Mitzi’s place fast enough.
Minutes later she was stuck, waiting for the turning bridge. But with her car pointed in the direction of the IOP; the tightness in her chest from seeing the bride who would never be hadn’t subsided. Was Mitzi right? Did everything between Melissa and Shane boil down to daddy issues? Was that why she focused on finding a match for everyone but herself?
It had been eighteen years since she lost the man she loved most in the world. Eighteen years, and just the thought of James Walter Bliss made her chest ache, her eyes sting. He and his band had been headed up the coast for a month long tour of bars and college towns. She and her dad never said goodbye before he left because he always said he’d be back before she knew it. Just ‘I love you’, but the day he left, Melissa hadn’t said anything.
On the road for weeks at a time, Daddy had missed so much of Melissa’s growing up, and she had just enough teenager in her to resent that he was going to miss yet another major event, the annual school band concert. She’d talked the stuffy band director into adding guitars into the some of the songs on the playlist. Melissa was playing lead and she needed him to be there.
“I love you ’Lissa,” he had said, kissing her on top of the head. “Be back soon.”
Melissa didn’t even take her headphones off, just gave him a go-to-hell look and scribbled some numbers in her notebook, pretending to do math. She couldn’t do her homework, couldn’t concentrate on anything. She was in the throes of garden-variety teenage angst, where every stinking, little thing was a huge catastrophic issue.
He tugged one of the headphones off. “Come on ’Lissa. Don’t be like this,” he said as Eric Clapton crooned
What could it hurt? Melissa nodded and Mitzi turned her around, facing away from the mirror. She helped Melissa into the dress and zipped it up. “Don’t move. I’m twisting your hair up so you can get the full effect.”
She pulled Melisa’s hair into a tight knot and stuck a pencil into the bun to hold it in place.
“Ow,” Melissa smoothed her hand over her crown. “Feels like you’re giving me a facelift.”
“I can’t believe you’ve come here more times than I can count and I’ve never gotten you into one of these.”
“That’s because I never had a reason to try one on.”
“Correction. You never let yourself have a reason.” She helped Melissa onto the pedestal with one hand while the other fisted the fabric in at her waist. “Lord, child, as much as I hate planning weddings, I would come out of retirement to plan yours.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about that. Ever.”
“I’m not saying your Auntie Jo was wrong or that your matchmaker thing is bullshit. But I’ve seen a million brides come through my doors, and not one of them would have stood on that pedestal you’re on unless they opened themselves up to love.” She turned Melissa around to face the mirror.
Wow. Melissa brushed tears away. Wow. Yeah, she wanted to the bride. She wanted to be Shane’s bride.
“Courtship, a wedding, that’s all a fairytale, Melissa, but love? Love is some scary stuff. But it’s the good stuff, Melissa. The really good stuff.”
Melissa shook her head, swiped at her eyes, and tried to laugh it off. “If this is your idea of a sales pitch, you’d better hope I keep sending brides your way.”
“Your mother’s not the only one who never got over losing your daddy, honey. But losing is part of love. It hurts like hell, but love is worth it. You’re worth it.”
Melissa gathered up the skirt, jumped down off the pedestal, and couldn’t get out of that dress and away from Mitzi’s place fast enough.
Minutes later she was stuck, waiting for the turning bridge. But with her car pointed in the direction of the IOP; the tightness in her chest from seeing the bride who would never be hadn’t subsided. Was Mitzi right? Did everything between Melissa and Shane boil down to daddy issues? Was that why she focused on finding a match for everyone but herself?
It had been eighteen years since she lost the man she loved most in the world. Eighteen years, and just the thought of James Walter Bliss made her chest ache, her eyes sting. He and his band had been headed up the coast for a month long tour of bars and college towns. She and her dad never said goodbye before he left because he always said he’d be back before she knew it. Just ‘I love you’, but the day he left, Melissa hadn’t said anything.
On the road for weeks at a time, Daddy had missed so much of Melissa’s growing up, and she had just enough teenager in her to resent that he was going to miss yet another major event, the annual school band concert. She’d talked the stuffy band director into adding guitars into the some of the songs on the playlist. Melissa was playing lead and she needed him to be there.
“I love you ’Lissa,” he had said, kissing her on top of the head. “Be back soon.”
Melissa didn’t even take her headphones off, just gave him a go-to-hell look and scribbled some numbers in her notebook, pretending to do math. She couldn’t do her homework, couldn’t concentrate on anything. She was in the throes of garden-variety teenage angst, where every stinking, little thing was a huge catastrophic issue.
He tugged one of the headphones off. “Come on ’Lissa. Don’t be like this,” he said as Eric Clapton crooned
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