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Each of us chooses a couple of gowns in our size, and we take turns, trying them on.
Willa walks from behind the cloth in a backless red mermaid gown with a thigh-high slit and sequined accents that cascade down the silk.
“Oh, wow, Willa,” Norah says.
Willa steps on the platform, surrounded by mirrors, and takes a look.
“It is a gorgeous dress, isn’t it?” she says.
I walk up behind her and lay a hand on her shoulder.
“The dress is amazing, but remember what I tell every bride. A dress is only silk and satin and buttons and zippers on a hanger until it makes its way onto a gorgeous frame. And you, my dear, are a stunning figure. This dress was made for you,” I say.
“You think so?”
“Oh, yes. The same applies for all the other frills that surround any event. Flowers are just pops of color, growing from the ground. Food is just gathered roots and sprouts and fruit. The love and care applied to them is the artistry that makes them magical.”
“This is the one,” she says.
“That’s the one,” Norah agrees.
After Norah tries her dress on and decides that she is going to repurpose the body-hugging one-sleeved black dress she wore to her rehearsal dinner, it’s my turn.
I only have to put on one because I knew the moment I laid eyes on it that I wanted it.
I slide into the regal, backless emerald-green cami gown with a sequined bodice and full tulle overlay skirt.
When I step out of the dressing room and onto the platform, Willa puts her hands together and exclaims, “And that dress was made for you!”
“It definitely was,” Norah agrees.
Lydia and her assistant place a few pins in mine and Willa’s selections before we change back into our jeans and sweaters.
“They’ll be ready next week. I’ll call the inn to let you know when to pick them up,” Lydia says as she takes our payment.
“Thank you, and I’ll make sure to refer your shop to everyone who inquires about gowns for the ball,” Willa tells her.
Norah leaves her Jeep at her shop, and the three of us climb into Willa’s Bronco and make our way to the Nazarene Church.
A young man in a bright yellow vest guides us to a parking spot.
“Enjoy your evening, ladies,” he says as we exit the vehicle.
“Thank you, Jeffery,” Norah calls.
The courtyard of the church is well lit, and we follow a brick pathway that leads to an open, roped-off wooden structure, filled with hay. Inside the area is the most realistic live nativity I’ve ever seen. Mary and Joseph stand by a squirming baby Jesus in a manger with shepherds outside, surrounded by two camels, a llama, several goats and sheep, and a donkey.
The scene is spotlighted by a huge star hanging high above the makeshift barn.
People are milling around, taking in the view. Excited children point to the animals as their parents guide them at a safe distance.
Goose bumps crawl up my arms as I take it all in.
“Joseph doesn’t look too bad, wearing an eyepatch,” Norah muses as she waves to Bran, who doesn’t break character but manages to wink in our direction.
We follow the crowd inside to the church’s library, where Norah purchases a Bible cover and an ornament for Trixie for Christmas and I buy a nativity snow globe that plays “Silent Night” to remind me of this experience.
There is a tent outside, and Hal is manning a hot beverage stand. The horse-and-carriage rides around the lake can be purchased for a five-dollar offering to the church, which helps cover the cost of the evening.
