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“Not really.” Tapping her chin, the saleswoman paused. “But we have a vintage dress that might work.” She led me to a chipped mannequin sporting a light frock. “At the turn of the twentieth century, these outfits had several names: tea dresses, summer day dresses, lingerie dresses, lawn dresses, or simply whites.”
The moment I saw the sheer dress, something clicked, and I lightly ran my fingers over the filigree fabric. “The material’s so delicate, you can almost see through it.”
“This is cotton batiste trimmed with yards and yards of Irish lace. Women wore these over full slips, but by changing the slip’s colors, they expanded their wardrobe.” The saleswoman smiled. “If you want to use it as a wedding gown, wear a white or ivory slip beneath. Would you like to try it on?”
As I slid the dress over my t-shirt and jeans, I pirouetted, admiring my reflection in the full-length mirror.
“Does it fit?”
“It’ll be perfect over a slip instead of jeans.” I grinned, excited at the find.
“Not sure if you need a bridal veil, but this antique, embroidered veil just came in yesterday. Judging from its wrinkles, it’s been folded and stored for years, but a good steaming should take care of that.” The saleswoman shook out the silk tulle.
A faint scent of mold wafted through the air.
“Look at all the scalloped lace.” I fingered the circular veil’s intricate needlework. “Was this a mantilla?”
“Possibly—this area has a rich Hispanic heritage.”
“And what’s this…a heart?” I traced the design surrounding a line of digits, then smoothed the lace to make the stitching more readable. “VIP01141899.”
“Embroidered right into the tulle.” The woman’s mouth fell open. “It’s so subtle, I thought it was part of the design.”
“Maybe it was the manufacturer’s product number.” I swung out the veil, letting it fall over my hair to frame my face. Ignoring the musty scent, I studied myself in the mirror. “This look’s perfect—just wish I knew the veil’s story.”
“Wouldn’t that be lovely? But better than its history, you have a bona fide mystery.” The saleswoman gave a wistful smile. “Take your time. When you’re ready, I’ll ring you up.”
An intense hot flash seized me, suddenly drenching my face, neck, and chest with perspiration. I yanked off the mantilla and handed it over. “Please take this with you.” Dizzy, I leaned against the cool wall as I wiped my brow.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, thanks, I’m fine—just got overheated. I’ll bring the dress up front in a minute.”
“No rush.” With a parting smile, the woman began folding the mantilla on her way to the cash register.
Still flushed, I took a deep breath to collect myself. What brought that on?
****
As I carried my shopping bags to the pickup, a fly buzzed me, then another and another. Kamikaze style, they dive bombed as I scurried to escape them and unlock the door.
One followed me inside the truck, biting the crown of my head. I slapped at it, finally killing it, but not before it drew blood.
By the time I started the engine and pulled into traffic, the flies were so thick outside, they swarmed the windshield. I turned on the wipers, but visibility was like driving through pelting, black rain. The flies massed about the windows, dodging the blades while they kept pace with the truck.
Not until I left town and began driving at highway speeds did I lose them.
****
After relating the incident, I turned to Luke. “What kind of blood-suckers are those?”
“Horse flies.” He nodded, as if commiserating. “Only the females bite, but heaven help you if they swarm.”
“On a happier note, look what I found.” I shook out the tulle, releasing a faint musty scent. “Superstition says it’s bad luck for the groom to see the dress, but I’ve got to show you this veil. The needlework’s so fine, it looks hand-stitched even though it has a manufacturer’s number embroidered inside a heart.”
“Looks like a valentine.”
Nodding, I traced VIP01141899 with my finger. “The number’s so skillfully sewn into the design, it’s hard to see.”
