Chapter Five

Paul came out of the Copper Mill First Baptist Church Monday afternoon, where he’d met with Pastor Bobby Evans about a community project. The breeze had shifted, bringing a chill from the north. Paul had parked in the lot across the street. As he stepped up on the curb, Trace Jackson came out of the Cumberland Realty office and turned toward him with a stack of papers in his hands.

“Hi, Trace. How are you?” Paul glanced at his watch: 2:50. “You must have gotten off work early today.”

“Hey, Pastor. I did. I had some business to conduct.” He waited until he got up next to Paul to elaborate.

“Jessica was so devastated about losing the house, I decided to surprise her. Don’t tell her, but I plan to give her the house as a wedding present.”

Paul schooled his features to hide his shock. “Wow”—he took a deep breath—“that’s quite a gift,” he said slowly. “Jessica doesn’t know what you’re planning?”

Trace shook his head.

“If I pulled a surprise like that on Kate,” Paul added, “I’d sure have some explaining to do...”

Trace chuckled. “I know she’ll be excited. She wants that house. We both do. And the agent said I should qualify for a loan. Of course, I just started my job, but she says that shouldn’t matter. I had enough of a down payment to secure the loan.”

“Ah. Well, I suppose this will give us plenty to talk about tomorrow at our counseling session.” Paul shook his head and bit back the urge to tell Trace he needed to talk to Jessica before finalizing the loan. “Remember, we’ll be discussing spending and saving money as a couple.”

“Well...” Trace grimaced. “The thing is, Jessica doesn’t really realize how much I had saved up. It doesn’t compare to what was in her trust, so I figured I’d put it away for the future, but now we need it. But I can’t tell her now, or it won’t be a surprise.” He looked sheepish. “Is there any way you could not bring it up tomorrow?”

Paul hesitated. Should he keep silent about this? “I understand your desire to surprise Jessica with such a special gift,” Paul said slowly, “but buying a house is a big decision. Are you positive you don’t want to discuss it with her first?”

“I’m sure.” Trace took a step back. “I know she’s going to be so excited.” He glanced down at his watch and started toward his car. “I’d better get going. See you tomorrow night.”

Paul raised his hand. “See you,” he called back, watching Trace jog toward his car.

Paul felt a twinge of concern for his young friend. The man’s desire to please his fiancée was admirable, but Trace was talking about a huge debt, not a piece of jewelry. He had only just started a new job, and Jessica was substitute teaching. Would that provide enough income to cover the financial burden of home ownership?

It also seemed odd to Paul that Trace had been willing to let Jessica spend her trust fund without mentioning that he could help. Something about it didn’t seem right.

He prayed for wisdom in leading and advising this young couple into truth and unity and reliance on the Lord. It was a tall order.

HELEN, THE MACKENZIES’ new housekeeper, led Kate up a flight of stairs and down a long hallway Monday afternoon. The woman opened a set of French doors at the end of the hallway and stood back for Kate to enter. Kate stepped into a room completely decorated in gold. Mesmerized, she looked around. The walls were tufted gold-satin brocade. A pale, gold-and-white-striped, semicircular sofa sat in the middle of the room, with several small gold upholstered chairs and gleaming brass and glass tables. Overhead, a brass and crystal chandelier cast muted light onto the room.

“No, no, no, chérie,” a heavily accented voice said. It reminded Kate of Zsa Zsa Gabor.

“Stand still, Jessica,” Monica said.

“Kate! We’re over here,” Jessica said, calling out from behind an elaborate art-deco screen in the corner. “I’m so glad you came.”

Kate set her handbag on a table and walked over to Jessica, who stood on a chair enveloped in a long white trumpet gown with a shimmery cape and silver and crystal embroidery.

A plump woman in a brightly colored duster was buttoning the back of the gown. Kate saw Jessica’s horrified expression in one of the tall mirrors that surrounded her on three sides. From every angle the attractive young woman was made to look short and dumpy in the elegant dress. She caught Kate’s eye and gave her a pleading look. It was evident to Kate that the gown hadn’t been designed for Jessica.

“This one will not do,” the designer said. “I did not realize you are so short. We will try another.” She began undoing the buttons.

“I sent you her measurements,” Monica said, leaning back to gauge the fit. Jessica’s cousin Kristin was sitting on a nearby couch, just watching, her eyes on the sumptuous gown.

“Yes, yes, and I will make alterations when she decides which gown she wants. This is not the one. My other clients will be beautiful in this one,” she said as if Jessica was somehow less than ideally put together. She turned to Monica. “On you it would be perfect, non? I will set it aside for you, Monique,” she said, giving Monica’s name a French pronunciation. Monica didn’t correct her.

Jessica tried to wiggle out of the gown.

“Faire attention,” the woman snapped.

Kate held out her hand to help steady Jessica.

“Thank you,” Jessica said, taking her hand and holding on while she stepped out of the gown. She started to get down off the chair, but Monica instructed her to stay put.

“Good afternoon, Kate,” Monica said coolly. She sized Kate up, and Kate reflexively reached up to smooth her hair. “Jessica said she’d invited you to come see the dresses. You’re in for a treat. This is Yvette d’Avril of New York.”

The woman absently held out a hand to Kate. Kate shook it.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Kate said, pasting a smile onto her face.

“Yvette brought her latest designs for Jessica to try on. We’re most fortunate,” Monica said, smiling as the designer turned away from Kate.

“I have not unveiled these designs to the public yet. You are the first to see them. I handpicked them for your daughter, Monica.”

“Stepdaughter,” Monica corrected.

“But, of course, that is what I meant. You are too young to have such a grown-up daughter.” Yvette carefully packed the gown away, then zipped open another long clothing bag. Layers of embroidered chiffon spilled out as she lifted the gown from the bag. Kate leaned in to get a better look. The fabric was beautiful.

“This is very traditional,” Yvette said as she held it up. “But I think it might be”—she cast a dismissive glance at Jessica—“a better fit.”

Yvette and Kate helped Jessica put on the gown. It draped below her feet by at least six inches. The gown had a beaded empire bodice, and the skirt belled out from above the waist, hiding Jessica’s petite figure completely. Again, she looked dumpy.

“That’s beautiful,” Kristin said, affecting a model’s stance.

Yvette smiled at Kristin. “You would look stunning in all of my creations,” she said.

Kristin blushed, then glanced at herself in the mirror.

The designer turned to Jessica. “Not to worry. You have a problem figure, chérie, but I have more beautiful gowns.” She reached for another gown.

The fabric shimmered silver. A deep-cut bodice gave way to a long fitted dress with deep slits up the front and sides, revealing a silken underskirt. Translucent pewter organza flared out from the slits. The dress was stunning and would have looked gorgeous on someone tall and thin.

“Surely that’s not a wedding dress,” Jessica said, shaking her head and holding out her hands to ward off the gown.

“White is not so important these days, chérie. Women are daring to wear gowns that make them beautiful.”

“I think I would really prefer something more traditional,” Jessica said, biting her lip.

Yvette rolled her eyes and turned to Monica. “You would be fabulous in this creation. I designed it with you in mind.”

Kate doubted that was true, but Monica seemed impressed.

“It’d make an awesome bridesmaid’s dress,” Kristin said, getting up to touch the shimmery fabric.

“We already picked the bridesmaids’ dresses.” Jessica shook her head. “My colors are pink and green, not silver.”

“This is pewter, not silver. That is a big difference,” Yvette said, accenting her words.

“I want to get married in white,” Jessica said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Then set that one aside,” Monica said. “I’ll try it on later.”

“Bon...I have one more. I saved the pièce de résistance for last,” Yvette declared as she reached for the final garment bag. She unzipped it to reveal a strapless silk taffeta dress with a dropped waist.

When Jessica put it on, the bouffant balloon skirt came to the top of her knees. The bodice was covered in delicate Chantilly lace with gold threads.

“That’s more like it,” Monica said, nodding. “That suits you.”

Jessica stared in the mirror with dismay. “But Monica, I look like a little girl, not a bride.” She brushed the poufed skirt, and it bounced back. “It’s awful.”

Monica sighed and put her hands on her hips. “You’re running out of options, Jessica. Yvette was kind enough to come all the way here. The least you could do is try.”

“Amie, you look like a celebrity, like that other Jessica, or Reese Witherspoon, non?” Yvette looked at Monica, then Kate for confirmation.

“No. I look like a...a puffy marshmallow,” Jessica said.

Kristin snorted, then quickly covered her mouth as if to hide her gaffe. Jessica started wiggling out of the dress, and Kate stepped forward to help.

“Your designs are exquisite,” Kate said, trying to encourage not only the designer but also Monica. Though she personally didn’t love the styles, the fabrics were fabulous, and the designs, no doubt, very chic.

“Thank you.” Yvette seemed to soak up the praise.

“Obviously, you cater to an elite clientele with tall, slender figures like Monica. It would be a shame to have to modify the lovely gowns from their original design.”

Yvette smiled as she slipped the last gown back on its hanger.

“Do you have anything else in your studio that might work for Jessica?” Monica asked, holding her chin in her hand. “The wedding is scheduled for early November.”

“Quoi? I cannot design a dress for la petite jeune fille in so short a time. C’est impossible.”

“It’s all right, Monica,” Jessica said quickly. “Thank you so much, Yvette, for coming here and bringing these dresses. They really are beautiful. I know I’m hard to fit...I can just go down to Chattanooga and find a dress.”

Yvette’s head reared back. “You would buy a wedding dress off a rack?” She turned to Monica. “This is a calamity, mon amie. For you, I will try to create a dress in time, but I must have the girl come to New York.”

“I can’t,” Jessica said. “I promised to substitute teach for the elementary school. I can’t leave.”

“This is more important than a part-time job,” Monica said. She pulled a small leather datebook out of the purse at her feet. “Almost two hundred fifty guests are coming to see you get married, including some of your father’s most influential friends. You can’t get married in just any old dress. You have an image to uphold.” She flipped through the pages of her datebook and turned to Yvette. “Would next week work for you?”

“I gave my word, Monica. I’m sorry,” Jessica interrupted.

Monica sighed deeply. “I know you’ve had a tiring morning, Yvette. Let me show you to your room so you can rest before dinner.”

“Très bien. Do not forget to try on the two dresses we set aside for you. The pewter one would be stunning for the mother of the bride.”

Monica winced. “Yes, I’ll do that later.” She turned to Jessica with a warning frown. “I’ll be right back.”

After the women left the room, Jessica plopped down next to Kristin on the couch in her slip and high heels and leaned her elbows on her knees, looking forlorn. Kate sat in a chair across from her.

“You’re so lucky,” Kristin said. “I can’t believe you’d pass up a chance at a designer gown, especially since you don’t even have to pay for it.”

“I know...They really were beautiful, but they weren’t for me.”

Kristin nodded. “Monica wasn’t really making it any easier, I guess.”

“She was trying to help.” Jessica sighed. “But I’m doing the best I can. I don’t know what to do.” She sat up straight and turned toward her cousin. “Is there any chance you’d want to go shopping with me for a dress?”

“No way.” Kristin waved her hands in front of her face. “I don’t want to get in Monica’s bad graces.” She laughed, but Jessica looked crushed.

“Look, I’ll help you if you really need it,” Kristin added quickly. She shook her head, and the expression on her face indicated that she wasn’t thrilled about the chore. “I have to run, but give me a call later. We’ll figure something out.” She pushed herself up, sauntered across the carpeted floor, and walked out into the hallway without stopping to say good-bye.

Kate watched Jessica’s cousin leave. Kristin didn’t seem to be very supportive of Jessica. In fact, she seemed to be siding with Monica.

“Is it just me?” Jessica said, peering up at Kate. “Am I crazy? I didn’t like any of the dresses, but they both acted like I was out of my mind.”

“I suspect the gowns would create a stir at a New York fashion show, but they aren’t designed for the average woman,” Kate said.

“That’s it. I’m too ordinary. I wish I weren’t, so I could please Monica, but I can’t help it. I don’t want to get married in a dress I detest.” She looked up at Kate. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a lovely dress, maybe in Chattanooga. No matter what you wear, you’ll be a beautiful bride.”

“Thanks,” Jessica said, leaning her head back against the couch cushion. “I appreciate your being here.”

Monica came back into the room silently, barely glancing at Kate before she stopped in front of Jessica. Her lips were pressed together, and her cheeks were pink. “I do my best, but I can’t seem to please you,” Monica said as if Kate wasn’t even in the room.

It was the first real emotion Kate had seen from the stepmother, and even though she felt like an intruder, she didn’t move. “You don’t seem to care about your father and his feelings. He told me once that he promised your mother he’d give you a dream wedding when you got married.” She shook her head.

“But I—”

“You’re throwing your life away on a man who will never amount to anything, but your father is trying to overlook that and accept your decision because he wants you to be happy.” Monica took a step closer to the couch, and Kate tried to suppress the chill she felt in her spine. “You’ve wasted your inheritance, and now you’re rejecting your father’s generosity.” Monica’s hands balled into tight fists. “How can you be so ungrateful?”

Jessica’s head drew back, almost as if she’d been slapped. She blinked back tears. “I’m not, and I did not waste that money. I don’t know what happened to it, but someone must have taken it.” She looked at Monica with pursed lips.

“It was probably that man you’re going to marry. All he’s ever been after is your money.”

Jessica opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came out.

“Your father checked his background, you know. Did he tell you Trace got fired from a job at a bank after some money disappeared?”

Jessica pushed herself up to her feet, and leaned in toward Monica. “I don’t believe you. Trace isn’t a thief. I know I can’t convince you of that, but I trust him.” She took a deep breath as tears welled up in her eyes. “Look, I really appreciate all you and Daddy are doing, but Trace and I are getting married, and we just want a simple wedding. We don’t want all the fancy trappings.”

“If you insist on going through with this wedding, we’ll do it the right way. Just don’t disappoint your father more than you already have.” Monica sighed. “This dress fiasco is costing me ten thousand dollars.” She gave Jessica a slightly rueful look and shook her head. “I’m buying an expensive gown to appease Yvette and make it worth her while coming down here, and you still don’t have a wedding dress.”

She turned to Kate. “You’re the one who’s supposed to be counseling her. Maybe you can talk some sense into her. I give up.”

Jessica looked at Kate, her eyes wide. Kate gave her a little nod, hoping to convey encouragement, even though her mind was still reeling about Monica’s bombshell concerning Trace’s background. Trace seemed sincere, and he gave all the right answers at the counseling sessions, but Kate knew people weren’t always what they appeared to be.

Kate didn’t know what to believe, but she intended to find out the truth about Jessica’s fiancé.