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“Did grandmother wear this dress?” I asked, my fingers brushing the delicate lace.
“No. Grandma Rose didn’t care for my daddy and made it clear to my mother. So, being the stubborn fool she was, she refused to wear the dress. She, of course, regretted it.”
I looked past the dress into the trunk. “Holy shit!” I said, reaching down and pulling out the lace boots. Turning, I held them up for Waylynn and Paxton.
“I’m so wearing these,” I declared.
“Can you imagine Tripp’s face when he sees you in nothing but…” Waylynn looked at my mother. “Cover your ears, Maddi.”
Mother chuckled. “Girls, I’m not ignorant of what will happen on Harley’s wedding night. And I agree with you, Waylynn. Tripp is going to trip all over his tongue when he sees you in these boots and your wedding lingerie.”
My cheeks heated.
“I can’t believe my great-grandmother dared to wear such sexy pieces for that time period,” I gushed.
“She was a rebel, to say the least. Now, this lace lining the back will need to be removed, exposing your back. Some of the buttons feel a bit loose, so we’ll need to get those adjusted, as well. Mindy Crawford is a fine seamstress. She’ll be able to do it, and I know she will use extra care and caution.”
The gown was placed up against me by my mother as we all gazed at my reflection in the attic’s long, floor-length mirror.
“What if it doesn’t fit?” I whispered.
“It will. Your body is exactly like Rose’s. I’ll need to find her wedding picture. You are the spitting image of her, just dark hair and darker skin.”
“Really?” I asked, my eyes lifting. I remembered my great-grandmother Rose. I was seven when she passed. Closing my eyes, I pictured her, sitting in the rocking chair of our house. Even in her eighties she was beautiful. I can still picture the elegant dress and hat she wore as she took tea from my mother.
Paxton leaned in closer to me. “Let’s try it on. I’m dying to see it on you!”
When I agreed, Waylynn and Paxton nearly ripped off my clothes. My mother laughed while taking a seat in an old antique chair.
“Mom, what’s all this furniture doing up here?” I asked.
“It all belonged to Rose. When she passed, Momma stored it up here.”
I’d only been in our attic once, and that was when Tripp was trying to get a bat out. I swore I saw a women looking back at me through this mirror. I screamed, running downstairs and past my father who was walking up the attic stairs to help Tripp. That was the first and last time I set foot up here until my mother begged us to come look in this trunk. Now I was thanking the Lord above I let her talk us into it.
I slipped into the dress. It hugged my body like a glove. Waylynn began to button up the back and when she got to the last one, we all let out a sigh. My mother was now standing next to me, tears rolling down her face.
“It’s like it was made for you, Harley.”
My hands ran over the lace and tulle. I could smell faint perfume on the dress all these years later. It hadn’t been kept in a special bag or treated. It simply was laid in an old trunk with the shoes, along with a stunning veil that Waylynn was now placing on my head.
“You look like a princess,” Paxton whispered.
Waylynn smiled while she adjusted the veil. “Tripp is going to fall on his knees when he sees you.”
When I looked myself over, I swore I saw a different version of myself. Blonde hair. The same emerald green eyes and the same flutter in my stomach.
I stood at the window in my old bedroom at my parents’ house. I’d been poked and prodded for the last three hours. At least, it felt like it had been that long. My hair was in a beautiful swept up-do, cascades of copious curls hanging down to frame my face. The perfect amount to make me look walkway ready, or at least that’s what the hairdresser said. I couldn’t even remember her name. It was French, and she was a friend of Waylynn’s. I was positive the woman was from France, but Waylynn remained tight-lipped. It went the same with the young lady who did my make-up. She somehow managed to make me look like I wasn’t wearing make-up, even though she put a shit ton of it on my face. Everything was natural looking, from my eyes to my lips. The shades looked like they were made just for me.
Turning from the window, I stared at my reflection. My father and Tripp had brought the full-length mirror down from the attic and placed it in my bedroom. I had already told my mother I wanted the mirror. I had the perfect place for it to stand in Tripp’s bedroom.
