You do sing about what you know about. And I grew up in a small town, and I grew up in a place where your whole world revolved around friends, family, school, and church, and sports.
Kenny Chesney
In the weeks leading up to the June 1st contest announcement, I could barely sleep. Most nights I tossed and turned, designing wedding gowns in my head. Every second or third day I’d go into a panic, wondering what I’d do if I actually won the dress. On the in-between days I convinced myself there was no way I’d win, not with thousands of entries. By the time I received my proposal, which seemed to be taking longer than I’d imagined, the whole contest thing would be behind me, just an elusive dream.
On Monday morning, June 1, I drove to the hardware store and found it teeming with customers. Mrs. Raddison needed a new faucet for her kitchen sink. Reverend Bradford browsed the lawn and garden aisle, looking for a connector for his water hoses. And Brother Mitchell, my favorite Sunday school teacher from early childhood, had finally decided to spend “the big bucks,” as he called it, on a new power drill. Pop was busy unloading a new shipment of fertilizer, so I waited on the customers and then headed to the front window to continue my work on the summer window display.
I’d just hung up a banner advertising the sale on fertilizer when my cell phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket, stared at the unfamiliar number, and answered with, “H-hello?”
“May I speak to Katie Fisher?” a female voice said from the other end of the line.
“Th-this is she.”
“Katie, this is Madge Hamilton, assistant to Nadia James, from Cosmopolitan Bridal.”
My heart sailed directly into my throat, making it impossible to respond. I finally managed a shaky, “Yes?” Maybe they called every losing entrant as a courtesy. Right?
“I am delighted to inform you that you’ve won our Texas Bride contest.” Her voice sounded chipper. Light. “Your essay was chosen from over four hundred entries.”
For a minute I thought I might faint. I’d pictured this call a hundred times but hadn’t really believed it would take place. In my imagination, sure. But in real life?
“W-what?” I nearly lost my balance.
Pop meandered down the aisle nearby, his eyes wide as he saw me bump into the window. “You okay over there, Katie-girl?”
I nodded, then eased my way down into a seated position. “I’m sorry. What did you say again?”
Pop must’ve thought I was talking to him. He hollered out, “I said, ‘You okay over there, Katie-girl?’”
The woman on the other end of the phone laughed. “I said you’ve won the contest. But I can tell you’re in shock, and I don’t blame you. It’s a lot to take in, I’m sure.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” I managed.
“Putting what mildly?” Pop asked as he took a few steps in my direction. I pointed to the phone.
He shook his head and whispered, “I’ve told you not to talk on that thing at work, Katie Sue. Very unprofessional.”
I turned my gaze out the window to avoid his glare.
“This is quite an honor,” Madge said. “Trust me. Hundreds of girls would love to be in your place right now.”
She went on to say something about how my essay had touched Nadia James’s heart to the deepest level, but I only heard about half of it.
“I . . . I’m sorry,” I said when I finally found my voice again. “Did you just say that I”—my voice squeaked—“w-won?”
“You did. What a compelling essay, Katie. Small-town girl with cosmopolitan wedding plans. We all read it and loved it. You have some serious writing skills, by the way. Are you a writer by trade?”
“Oh, no ma’am. I work at a hardware store.”
“Oh yes, that’s right. I remember reading that now. Well, you have quite a way with words. And the way you described your fiancé, well, it just swept Nadia off her feet. You two must really be in love.”
“Yes ma’am.” I swallowed hard as I realized she’d called him my fiancé. “Only, Casey isn’t actually—”
“We can’t wait to hear the details of the proposal. It’ll make a terrific addition to the Texas Bride article.”
Ack. “I, well . . .”
“So, we have a dress to design,” she said. “And fittings will need to start soon because Nadia will be leaving for an internship in Paris.”
“She won’t be in Dallas anymore?”
“Only for the next week or so. Then she’ll leave for an exciting year in Paris. Her son Brady is taking over the shop in her absence. He—well, he’ll be here to supervise as our seamstresses work on your gown.” Why the woman sounded hesitant, I could not say. “Anyway, the point is, this will be a rushed job because Nadia is leaving soon. When can you come to the shop for your first fitting?”
“Oh, I . . .” Hmm. Go to Dallas? Wasn’t it more important to talk Casey into marrying me first so that I could show up with a ring on my finger?
“It’s important to get going on your dress design before Nadia leaves. And we have to think of the time frame for your big day. What date have you set for the wedding, honey? I don’t remember that part from the essay.”
That’s because I didn’t mention a date.
Should I fess up? Tell her that I wasn’t exactly engaged—only almost engaged?
“Oh, never mind. I can hear that you’ve got something going on in the background there. We can talk about your wedding plans later.”
I didn’t have a chance to get a word in edgewise because she continued to fill my ears with instructions. She buzzed through a list of details that included an interview and photo shoot with Texas Bride and several dress fittings.
“I see that you live in Fairfield. Hmm. You’re an hour and a half from our shop. I’m not sure that’s practical.”
I’d do anything to have the dress of my dreams. But how could I manage going back and forth to Dallas for fittings? Pop would flip if I left in the middle of a shift at the hardware store, and Mama would have a conniption if I missed choir practice, but maybe I could work around those things. Bessie May drowned out the rest of us altos, anyway. I’d never be missed.
“We really need to go ahead and set up an appointment for your first fitting,” Madge said. “Ideally, we would need to get your measurements as quickly as possible—say, by next Monday?”
“Next Monday?”
“Yes. If you come sooner rather than later, it would give Nadia time to draw the sketches before she leaves. Then we’ll need you to come and go while the dress is being made. Is that doable?”
“How long will it take?” I asked.
“At least a month or so. Maybe longer. But we need to get the ball rolling. Let’s just say one week from today at noon for the consult, shall we? Does that work for you?”
“Well, I’ll do my best—”
“Great. We look forward to getting to know you and making the dress for your big day.”
She ended the call in a hurry, but I was grateful for the reprieve. I needed time to think. To plan. To get my heart beating normally again.
For a good ten minutes after the call ended, I stared at the phone in total silence. Maybe I’d just dreamed this whole thing. Surely I hadn’t won the contest.
I headed to the stockroom at the back of our store and began pacing, my emotions shifting from disbelief to an undeniable sense of excitement. Surely God had just opened a door for me. This was all a sign that Casey was going to pop the question. Hopefully soon.
My roller coaster of emotions continued as I began to pray about all of this, thanking God from the bottom of my heart for giving me such an amazing opportunity. Then I lit into one of my favorite worship songs, which must’ve alerted my father. He stuck his head in the door, eyes wide.
“Someone having a church service in here?”
“Yep. Just having a little praise and worship.”
“Next time invite me to join you. Mama says I have the best baritone voice in town.” He lit into an off-key rendition of “What a Friend We Have in Jesus,” and I giggled as he disappeared back out into the store.
After a while I calmed down a bit. I couldn’t share my news with Pop, but I did feel the need to tell someone. Only one person made sense. I picked up my cell phone and pushed the button to call Lori-Lou.
After three rings I half expected it to go to voicemail, but she answered, breathless. “Katie? That you?”
“Yes. I have such exciting news. I—”
“I’m in the bathroom. Hiding. From the kids.”
“W-what?”
“It’s the only privacy I can get around here. Hold on a minute. One of the girls is beating on the door.” Her voice grew shriller as she hollered out, “Mariela, if you bang on that door one more time, so help me, you’re going to be grounded from now until you leave for college.” The noise level escalated and then she returned. “Okay, what were you saying?”
I could barely remember. The image of her hiding in the bathroom served as a deterrent and affected my ability to think clearly for a moment. “Girl, you’re not going to believe the call I just got.”
“Ooh, tell me!”
I’d just started to when I heard a loud flush, followed by water running. “Speak up, Katie. It’s loud on this end.”
“I won the dress!” A nervous laugh surfaced, though I tried to press it down.
“I’m sorry, what did you say? The water was running. I thought you said you won the dress.”
“I did! I won the dress!”
The squeal from her end of the line nearly deafened me. I had to move the phone away from my ear.
“Oh, Katie, that’s the best news ever!” She lit into a lengthy conversation about the style of the gown, asking me a thousand questions along the way. Finally she paused. “So, um, I hate to bring up the obvious, but does this bride have a groom yet?”
“Well, not officially, but I’m 99 percent sure Casey’s going to pop the question soon. He’s been back and forth, going out of town and then returning. The boy has a ring in his pocket. I know he does. He even asked me some weird questions the other day about the cost of apartments. Isn’t that odd?”
“Perfect sign. Well, hurry him along. You know those people at the bridal shop are going to be asking a lot of questions.”
“They already are. But just so you know, no one else has a clue about any of this. Not my family. Not anyone. I mean, Queenie knows that I’m hoping for a proposal, but she . . .” I hesitated, unsure of how much to share with Lori-Lou. “She wants me to be 100 percent sure. She doesn’t want me to jump into something.”
“Jump into it?” Lori-Lou laughed. “How many years have you and Casey been dating again? A dozen?”
“No. I’m only twenty-four. That would mean we started dating at age twelve. We only made it official when we were seventeen.”
“Well, that’s almost eight years, girl. Besides, you’ve known him since you were twelve. No one will think you’re jumping into anything. Besides, someone needs to make a move. The people at Cosmopolitan Bridal are going to announce it to the world in just a few months, Katie Sue.”
“Trust me when I say that no one in my inner circle reads Texas Bride, so I think we’re safe there. And other than you, I don’t have any friends or family in the Dallas area, so no one will hear those radio announcements anyway.”
“Wait . . . doesn’t Queenie have a sister who lives here?”
Ack. I’d almost forgotten about Alva—the family’s black sheep.
“Well, yes. Alva’s there. But what are the chances she would find out and say something to Queenie? They don’t even speak.”
“True, that.” A shriek followed. “Mariela! How did you get that door unlocked? Mama needs her privacy!” This escalated into an argument between mother and daughter. I could tell I’d lost my cousin altogether, so I said my goodbyes.
After I ended the call with Lori-Lou, I went back to work on the summer window display and pondered my situation with Casey. He needed to know about the dress. If I showed up at the bridal shop next Monday without an engagement ring, I’d have a tough time answering questions about how my wonderful fiancé had proposed, now wouldn’t I?
I had to talk to Casey about our future together as a couple. And I had to somehow get him to pop the question.