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“I need… your… help, like …now,” she panted through sobs.
“Grace, calm down. I can’t help you while your wailing down the phone.”
“I need you here, something terrible has happened.”
“I’m leaving in the next hour so I’ll be back soon.”
“No. You need to leave now, I need you, M, please.” She sobbed uncontrollably down the phone.
Myla felt the prickles of heat burn over her body, her chest constricted and she felt a heavy feeling of dread drop into her guts. “Grace, listen whatever has happened, we can fix it, okay?”
“No, it’s ruined. My wedding dress is ruined.”
Myla stood to her feet. “What do you mean, it’s ruined? How?”
“It’s my fault, I’m so embarrassed, M. I need you to make me a new dress.”
Myla swayed on the spot, all her senses became clouded and she balled her fist at her side. “I can’t possibly make you another dress by tomorrow, Grace. Can’t I repair the one you have?”
Grace suddenly howled loudly, like a dog in pain. “No, it can’t be repaired. I haven’t been feeling well since yesterday,” she started, “and I’ve had an upset stomach.”
“What the fuck has that got to do with your dress?” Myla snapped as her patience at her sister’s drips of information started to disperse, rapidly.
“I wanted to try …my dress …on again, and then I needed the toilet.”
Myla closed her eyes and shook her head. Please Grace, for the love of god, do not say what I think you’re going to say. “And?” Myla growled.
“Oh, M! I can’t say it, I just can’t. Mom is practically having heart failure as we speak.”
“Just spit it out, Grace. You’ve interrupted my time with the hottest man to ever grace my nether region, and you’re here howling down the phone and demanding I come back, but you’re unwilling to share the details? How is that fair?”
There was a short period of silence, but she could still hear her sisters whimpering down the phone. “I shit myself,” she finally whispered.
“Holy shit,” mumbled Myla. Throwing her hand to her face she tried frantically not to snigger.
“Holy? There is nothing holy about it. Mom is heartbroken.” Grace snapped, defensively.
“If you knew you had an upset stomach, what the hell possessed you to climb into your fucking dress?”
“It was just there, hanging up ready for tomorrow and …and I …don’t know, I just wanted to put it on again.”
Taking Myla’s hand, Kai led her back to the bed and sat her down, climbing behind her, he moved her hair and pulled back her robe slightly then began to massage her shoulders. He smiled when she groaned and her head lolled to the side.
“Then I got caught short, I raced to the toilet but couldn’t get the dress off quick enough, and …and …and, with all the layers, half of it ended up –”
“Don’t Grace, I can imagine what happened next.” Myla shuddered as unwanted images suddenly flooded her head.
“What am I going to do? I have no dress to wear.” She panted. Her breathing became heavy and hard down the phone again and the rumble of sobs continued.
“I can’t make another dress by tomorrow Grace, I just can’t.” Throwing herself back into Kai’s arms, she closed her eyes and sighed. She felt him kiss her cheek and then he started running his fingers through her hair. “Myla, I have faith you can help her with another dress by tomorrow,” he whispered.
“You do?” She whispered back as she pulled her cell from her ear.
“Of course, Do you have any idea what an amazing woman you are?”
No one’s ever said that to me before. She suddenly saw stars in her vision as she looked at him, then she was telling him she loved him, marrying him, carrying his first child, growing old with him. “Myla,” she heard shriek down the phone jolting her from her fantasy of a life with Kai. Jumping to her feet and placing her cell back to her ear, to be greeted with a hysterical squawk, she braced herself for the arduous task ahead.
“Grace, is the bodice still intact?”
