Every Girl Gets Confused (26 page)

I've never met an animal I didn't like, and I can't say the same thing about people.

Doris Day

T
he weeks after Christmas were strangely calm. I kept my regular hours at the shop, but we had few customers. Several times I thought about what Madge had said a while back, about seasons of plenty and seasons of want. We'd just come through a crazy-busy season. Now things were slowing down, as they were prone to do. That was okay with me. The busyness had left most of us exhausted, and if we ever needed a chance to catch our breath, it was after Christmas.

I needed the chance to do something else too. Pray. With
so much stirring in my heart, I had to keep God in his rightful place—at the very center. It was hard to stay focused at times. I kept thinking about Carrie and Jimmy, wondering what I could do to help. We'd sent flowers and we'd all signed a card, which had been mailed the day after Christmas. But I wanted to do more. This feeling hit me especially hard on Friday, January 8th, when Brady and I met in his office to talk.

“This was supposed to be their wedding day.”

“Yeah.” He sat on the edge of his desk. “I remember.”

“I talked to Mrs. Sanders a couple of days ago. She said that Jimmy's been moved to a rehab hospital. Did you know they had him in a medically induced coma for a few days after the accident?”

“Yeah. I actually called Mr. Dennison to talk to him a while back. They're a great family.”

“I just wish there was something we could do. Every time I see that dress in the studio I want to send it to her, but I've wondered if it would be the right thing to do. And I hate to bring this up, but there's still a balance due on the dress—$3,500.”

“Since you did bring it up, I've come up with a great idea.” Brady rose and took a few steps across the room, his knee in fine working order now. “I think my mom will go along with it.”

“What's that?”

“After talking to Mr. Dennison the other day, it occurred to me that what they're going through won't last forever. Jimmy will recover and they will get married, and they'll probably go on to have 2.5 children and live in a house with a white picket fence.”

“Debatable, but what's your idea?”

“I want to give her the wedding dress.” He folded his hands together, clearly pleased with himself for coming up with this idea.

“Wait—give it to her? That's a five-thousand-dollar dress.”

“Yep. I know. And I want to give it to her. I even want to refund the deposit. The dress will be our gift to the two of them, and I truly believe it will give them hope that things are going to get better. Sometimes that's all people need—something to hang their hope on.”

“Do you really think your mom will give away a five-thousand-dollar dress? I mean, we just gave away ten five-hundred-dollar dresses on Black Friday. You know? Can the shop afford to do this?”

“We can't afford not to. Oh, and I have some news. Related to the shop, I mean.”

“Please don't tell me we have a hundred orders for the Doris Day gown. I don't think my heart can take it.”

“No.” He chuckled and eased himself down into the chair behind his desk. “I know you're not going to believe this, but remember that angry bride, the one who went to the newspaper with her story?”

“How could I forget her?”

“She called this morning to let me know that she's broken up with her fiancé. Kaput. Finished.”

“No way.”

“Yes. Just a week before the ceremony she decided she couldn't go through with it. So now she wants to return her dress for a full refund.”

“Oh, Brady. What did you do?”

“I told her we'd be glad to take the dress back and would give her a full refund. And she's as happy as a lark. She even said she's going to go back to the paper to recant her story.”

“That's going to cost the shop even more money,” I said.

“But we'll make money in the end because happy customers bring in more happy customers. See?”

“Yeah, but giving away a five-thousand-dollar dress on the same day you offer to refund a bride for another gown? Your mom's gonna flip.”

“Nah. I learned from the master. She'll be thrilled that I'm being so generous. Generosity has its rewards.”

“So, all's well that ends well?” I asked.

“Yeah, except now we have this random dress coming back to the shop and no one to wear it.”

I could certainly relate to that statement. I had a random dress hanging in Queenie's cedar closet and no reason to wear it.

“Don't worry, Brady. It'll sell. The dress is gorgeous, and it's in an easy-to-sell size—a ten.”

“Yeah, I'm sure it will sell. Just thought the whole thing was so strange. It's weird how women—er, people—can change moods so quickly.”

“Um, women?” He was a fine one to talk. These past few weeks he'd been up and down like a yo-yo.

“Okay, okay, I get your point.” He put his hands up in the air as if caught. “We all go through highs and lows.”

“Thankfully, more highs than lows.”

“Yes. And we all move on.”

His words made me think of Casey. I'd definitely moved on from him, hadn't I? “Yes, we do.”

As he leaned back in his chair, it squeaked. Other than that little noise the room went quiet for a moment. Brady finally broke the silence. “Speaking of moving on, I, um . . . I wanted you to be the first to know that I'm about to sign my official release papers from the Mavericks. I mean, we knew it was coming, but I got the forms this morning. Stan faxed them over.”

“Oh, Brady.” A rush of air left my lungs. “Are you . . . I mean, are you okay?”

“Yeah, actually, I am. I mean, it took a while for the idea to sink in, but I think I'm okay with it. God might open a door for me to play pro ball in the future, or he might not, but the Bible says I'm supposed to be content in whatever state I'm in.”

“You're in Texas, boy. Everyone's content in Texas!” Madge's voice sounded from the open doorway.

I laughed out loud. “Well, she has a point.”

“Everything's better in Texas!” Alva appeared next to Madge.

“Which is precisely why I moved here,” Eduardo chimed in beside Alva.

“Looks like the gang's all here,” Brady said. “Did someone call a meeting?”

Madge shook her head. “No, but I was about to. We just had a call from Carrie Sanders. She wanted to thank us for the fruit basket that arrived this morning.” Madge's eyes narrowed as she looked back and forth between Brady and me. “I don't recall sending a fruit basket. Does that ring a bell with either of you?”

“Ooh, I love fruit,” Alva said. “I'm especially fond of nectarines.”

“Me too.” Eduardo clasped his hands together. “I should take you to California some day, Alva, to taste the sweet nectarines from Orange County.”

“I would love that,” she said. “But wouldn't people talk if the two of us headed off on a vacation together?”

“Let them talk.” He lifted his chin.

“Well, I don't know.” She looked concerned. “A single man? A single woman? Heading off on an adventure together without a chaperone?” She glanced my way. “Ooh, that's the answer. We'll take Katie with us. How would you like to go to California, Katie?”

“That's random,” I said. “I'd have to think about it.”

“I do see another solution.” Eduardo slipped his arm over Alva's shoulders. “One that would keep people from talking.”

“Oh?” She looked at him.

“Yes, but we can talk about that privately.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek.

Okay then.

“So, back to that fruit basket . . .” Madge wrinkled her nose. “You set that up, boss? Then I'm assuming you're also the one who scheduled more flowers to be delivered tomorrow to the Dennison home? I saw the receipt come through on the company email account.”

“Yep.” Brady nodded. “I want them to know we're thinking of them.”

Madge waggled her finger in the air. “Brady James, you are a good, good boy. Your mama raised you right. Of course, I had a little something to do with your raising too. I think I did a fine job, if I do say so myself. I hate to brag. That would just be wrong. But you did turn out to be quite the gentleman.” She crossed her arms. “Even if you are a little over-the-top generous.”

“I think this situation with Jimmy really struck a nerve. I feel bad for him. He's lying in a hospital in far worse shape than I've ever been.” Brady rose and paced the room, pausing to rub his knee for a moment. “What if we gathered the troops and made a trip to San Antonio to deliver the dress in person?”

“Right now?” Madge looked stunned by this idea.

“Yes.” Brady stopped in place. “Right now. It's Friday. The shop is closing in a couple of hours.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Ooh, I want to go.” Alva raised her hand. “You're talking about the girl from that radio program, right?”

“He's talking about Carrie Sanders,” Eduardo said. “And if you don't mind, I'd like to go too. I would love to deliver that dress in person.”

“Yes, I think it would be nice if we all showed up together,” Madge said. “I do hope it's not too much for Carrie to have the dress, considering . . .”

“This visit isn't about a dress,” Brady said. “It's about giving them hope. And extending a hand of friendship.”

“Even if they don't like the Mavericks?” Alva asked.

“That doesn't even factor in,” Brady said. “Never did.”

Less than an hour later we were all pressed into my SUV, Brady in the front seat with me and Alva, Eduardo, and Madge in the backseat. The gorgeous Doris Day gown had been carefully bagged and laid out in the very back of the vehicle. I couldn't believe we were leaving this late in the afternoon to drive all the way to San Antonio, but I was open to an adventure. Out of the corner of my eye I peeked at Brady, who seemed to come alive as he talked about how we would go about giving them the news. I hadn't seen him this excited in a while.

“It feels good to shift the attention off myself,” he said. “And if anyone needs our attention right now, it's this couple. They've really been through it.”

Yes, they had. And how good of him to care this much.

Brady made a call to Mr. Dennison, who gave him the address of the rehab hospital. When the call ended, Brady gave us our marching orders. “Okay, he's in room 104 and Carrie is there with him. He should be wrapping up therapy on his legs when we arrive, so the timing would be perfect.”

We arrived at the rehab hospital at six o'clock, just as the sun was starting to set. I was happy to stretch my legs. Alva was happy to look for a bathroom. When we walked inside
the lobby, the guy behind the front desk looked up, his eyes widening when he saw Brady.

“Dude, you're Brady James.” The fellow stared up at Brady in awe, then extended his hand across the desk.

“I am.” Brady shook his hand. “And you are?”

“Oh, sorry. Jeff Blaine. I play for the Wildcats. Northwest Vista College.”

“I've heard a lot of great things about the Wildcats.”

“Really?” Jeff looked at our little group, clearly confused. The sight of Alva searching for a bathroom probably didn't help. “What are you doing here in San Antonio?”

“Came to see a friend who's rehabbing after an accident.”

“Ah. You're brave, man.”

“Brave?”

“Yeah. Big game tonight. Spurs. Mavericks. You know.”

Brady's eyes widened. “Would you believe I forgot about that? I really did.”

“Wow.” Jeff laughed and pointed Alva in the direction of the ladies' room. “Well, no one around here has forgotten about it, trust me, so you might want to get out of town while the gettin's good.”

“I think we'll see our friend first. Could you tell us how to get to room 104?”

“Better yet, I'll show you. Just let me get someone to cover the front desk, okay?”

A couple of minutes later an older man took Jeff's place—after scowling at Brady. We waited for Alva, the tension a little thick as the man muttered something under his breath about the Mavericks, and then headed to Jimmy's room. Eduardo carried the bag with the gown inside.

When we arrived, Jeff knocked on the door and I heard Carrie call out, “Come in.”

We eased open the door and her eyes widened when she saw us standing there.

“Oh!” Tears sprang to her eyes. She jumped up and rushed toward us. “I can't believe you came all this way.”

“We have a special gift to deliver.” Eduardo lifted the bag that held the gown. “For a very special lady.”

“My—my dress.” Her expression shifted from surprise to concern. “I . . . I don't know what to say.”

“No need to say anything.” Eduardo hung the dress on the empty IV pole next to the bed. “We wanted you to have it.”

“This was supposed to be our wedding day.” She stared at the bag, a somber expression on her face.

“I know.” I put my arms around her and held her in a warm hug. “That's why we came today. Brady decided we should bring the dress. And we've been wanting to see Jimmy.”

She pointed to the empty bed. “He should be coming back from therapy any minute now. They wanted to try it without me in the room today. He seems to work harder when I'm not there.” She shrugged.

“How is he doing, Carrie?” I took the seat next to her as she sat down. “And how are you?”

“It's going to be a long journey,” she said. “Maybe another month or two before he's able to put any weight on those legs. I'm all healed up . . . on the outside. My hand will recover. But my heart . . .” She looked up at the dress bag once more. “I'm not so sure.”