Our Bridal Shop

Chapter 14 - Charlotte

With Alex gone to Boston, Charlotte was grateful to have Freesia forego her escapades into the countryside in Daddy's truck to stick close to the shop. Freesia never said where she went; Charlotte never asked. She figured there should be some sanctity inside the space of so many conflicting emotions. Morning coffee time, Freesia answered the shop phone. The call had her deer-in-the-headlights inside of a minute.

Nash had the same expression anytime Charlotte sent him to the corner mart to pick up feminine hygiene products.

Freesia put the caller on hold.

"This maid-of-honor wants a refund for her dress because the wedding is canceled."

Charlotte's heart always dropped at love gone awry. "Well, shoot. Which wedding?"

"Mason-Yastrzhembsky." Freesia fumbled hard on that mouthful.

"Maybe that Mason girl is just having cold feet because no one will ever be able to spell her new last name."

"She says the bride doesn't know yet."

Charlotte got a rotten taste in her mouth and a frown to match. Mr. Yastrzhembsky just went from an unfortunate surname to an untenable son of a bitch. She commandeered the phone, extracted the index card box from the bottom shelf, and flipped to the particulars for bride Mason.

"I understand you wish to make a return?"

"That's right," said the woman on the other end of the line.

"Certainly within our policy. May I ask the date of purchase?"

Charlotte had the information on the card in front of her. She asked other unnecessary questions she already knew the answers to so the woman would regurgitate the seven months of plans and measurements that had gone into the wayward nuptials. Maybe feel a twinge of guilt along the way.

"Appears everything is in order. I'll just need written confirmation from the bride or groom—a Mr. Yesurbuttinsky—that the wedding is, indeed, canceled."

The woman didn't bother correcting her. She hung up.

"That was inspired," Freesia said.

Charlotte gave her a pshaw and a wave of her hand.

"I mean it, Charlotte. Not just about knowing that brand X runs small in the bust or that some bride who has her eyes on a three-thousand dollar out-of-budget dress would look equally great in a similar gown that's only five hundred or the incredible knack you have for going immediately to the right dress that often takes brides dozens of wrongs to find. You really care about the women who come through here. You're what makes this place special, and it's past time you stand up to Alex the way you did to You're-an-ass-key's fling."

Charlotte grinned. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're getting the hang of your Devon moxie. Mississippi women are polite as the day is long until someone does us wrong. Then we get creative."

"I'm serious, Charlotte. You need to stand up for yourself more with those closest to you. Starting with your sister."

"Alex means well. She just has a strong personality."

"You're stronger than you think. You just haven't been given the opportunity to prove it. Your mom had final say here. Now Alex is the self-proclaimed leader."

"Our roles were cast long ago. Alex was always the achiever, class valedictorian, study abroad. I was the one who stayed behind, had kids young, took care of everyone, picked up the pieces when things fell apart."

Freesia went back to her beading. "Sounds like the hardest job of all."

"In some ways, maybe. In others, not so much. Alex looks at family like long helium balloons tied to her wrist. Can't always see them out in front, but the strings are always there, getting in the way sometimes, sometimes helping you soar."