Fading Starlight Part 18

"He would not have been able to afford anything close to that necklace, and JoAnne Mayfield would likely have left him and his movie project in a fit of rage. She was famous for those types of tantrums, and Mr. Montgomery planned to sit back and enjoy a bit of revenge. Unfortunately, he died before the ruse was carried out, and so did Mr. Blake. But it was about that same time that Miss Montgomery realized that most of her friends and all of her admirers had just been pretending to like her so they could get in the good graces of her father. She kept the fake engraving to remind herself-and my mother-just how false men could be. They both declared that they would never chance their hearts again.

"My mother eventually did find love, and Miss Montgomery was happy for her. She, on the other hand, has mostly hidden herself away in that big house for the past sixty years. She has one friend from her past, Alice, who still calls every now and then, but Miss Montgomery has always refused to see her."

"That is so sad." Lauren's heart ached to think of how lonely these past decades must have been. "How did you come to work here in place of your mother?"

"My husband pa.s.sed away about fifteen years ago. I fell into a deep depression and was so far in debt from years of his cancer treatments that I lost everything. I came back to stay with my mother, who by that time was finding her work here more and more difficult due to her age. Miss Montgomery hired me, strictly out of kindness to my mother, to help a.s.sist her. Somehow she found out about everything, and before I knew it, the medical debts had been mysteriously paid off. When my mother died a few years later, I continued on in her stead, and I've been here ever since."

"Do you have other members of your family?"

Frances shook her head. "I truly consider Miss Montgomery my family, in an unusual sort of way. I take care of her, and I know that she would take care of me, too. My husband and I were never able to have children, though, so to answer your question, I really don't have any other blood relatives that I know about."

"I'm glad Miss Montgomery has you in her life."

Frances stood and carried her gla.s.s to the sink, washed it, then set it in the drainer. She walked to the doorway and turned just before she went through it. "I'm glad she has both of us."

thirty-six.

Opening night found the entire backstage area full of chaos and clamor. The theater was sold out, and everyone behind the curtains knew that somewhere in those sold-out seats were the Disney representatives. The very ones who would make the decision about which schools would be chosen for next season's premiere. The student seamstresses were all busy with needle and thread, making last-minute adjustments, while Lauren checked and double-checked every garment. All appeared to be in order.

In the very first scene, when Guinevere was singing about the simple joys of maidenhood, Priscilla tripped but somehow managed to grab the arm of one of her maidens. Lauren held her breath, praying that nothing had ripped in the exchange. The scene went on, everything still intact, and soon Priscilla was back in the changing room, Lauren helping her get the wedding gown over her head.

After she was dressed and they'd started working on the b.u.t.tons, Priscilla said, "Tell me again why we couldn't just put a zipper in? It would have made this whole process a lot easier."

"Because they didn't have zippers in this time period, and it wouldn't be authentic." Lauren continued to work the satin b.u.t.tons through their respective loops.

"Yes, but who really cares?"

"Mr. Rivers cares, for one, and the Disney people, and believe me, there are plenty of people in the audience who care about those kinds of details. And even if none of that were true, I would still care. I like for things to be done correctly."

Priscilla turned toward her then and c.o.c.ked her head, and Lauren braced herself for one of the usual biting comments. "That sounds so crazy to me, that anyone could be so uptight about anything. But"-she flipped her long hair over her shoulder-"I will be the first to admit that you have made an amazing dress here, and the play will look better because of it."

Lauren kept b.u.t.toning, waiting for the punch line. It never came. Finally, she looked up and replied, "Thank you."

Priscilla swept out the door and toward the stage without further comment. Still, what she had said had been enough.

"Thank You, Father, for sending that encouragement." Lauren made her way to the wings so she could watch part of the wedding scene. Priscilla was not only beautiful, the girl had talent by the bucketful.

After the curtain closed for intermission and the house lights came up, Lauren chanced her first peek toward the packed house. She scanned the first few rows, looking for anyone who appeared to be more official than the others. Perhaps the man in the gray suit? No, he seemed to be with a large extended family. They must be here to watch someone in particular. She kept scanning until she stopped dead on the second row, center section, directly on the aisle. She couldn't believe it. There sat Miss Montgomery and Frances, the sapphire and diamond necklace barely visible inside Miss Montgomery's collared s.h.i.+rt.

Later, when the show was over, Lauren rushed out to find them before they left. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming? I could have gotten you some tickets."

Miss Montgomery swiped the air dismissively. "I think we can afford twelve dollars for a high school play. Besides, the whole point was to surprise you."

"Well, you accomplished that, all right."

"It's about time those tables were turned, then." Miss Montgomery smiled, then gestured toward the stage. "That wedding dress was amazing."

"I'm rather pleased with the way it turned out, I have to say."

"Have you ever considered designing wedding gowns for a living?"

The question, innocently asked, still hit like a blow. "Not really. I haven't considered much in the way of true designing for a while now. It seems like a dream that's a bit too far out of reach."

"Don't be like me, dear. I gave up on my dreams instead of fighting for them. I'd give anything if I could go back and do some of those things over again. Don't hit my age with a heavy heart full of regrets."

On Sat.u.r.day morning, Lauren went to the school to oversee the costumes for the matinee performance. Theodore Rivers had sent out a group text that he wanted everyone at the theater half an hour before call time because they had a "few rough spots they needed to touch up."

Lauren toyed with the idea of skipping the extra half hour. She would not be rehearsing, after all. But her built-in work ethic wouldn't let her do it. She needed to be there in case there were adjustments needed.

She was in the costume room, steaming out the wrinkles from one of the cavalier's jackets, when a student named Megan Preston came into the room. "Mr. Rivers has asked that you come to the meeting, too."

"Really?" Lauren couldn't imagine why, but who was she to argue?

She stood at the back wall of the theater while the cast and crew all gathered round Mr. Rivers in a giant circle of chairs. He was looking at a sheet of legal paper, which appeared to be filled with suggestions. This meeting was going to take a while.

He looked up and said, "First of all, nice job last night, everyone. We have a few things we're going to review this morning, but as a whole, the evening went smas.h.i.+ngly, I thought."

"What did the Disney people say?" one of the girls called out from the back.

Mr. Rivers looked at her, his face growing extra serious. "What did I tell all of you about the Disney results?" He looked around the room but then began to answer his own question. "They have several schools they are planning to look at. They will not pick their final schools until all schools have been considered."

"Do you think they liked the show?" Priscilla asked.

"Mom said the people from the newspaper really liked it. She said they said it was our best show ever," a boy chimed in.

Mr. Rivers looked around the group, his expression growing angry. "What did I just tell you? What have I told you all along? We have to be on our toes and do our very best performance every single day, because what if they come back for another look today?"

The kids s.h.i.+fted in their seats.

"We're going to review the 'Simple Joys of Maidenhood' number, but before that, I do have a couple of announcements to make. First, we still have some open seats for tomorrow's matinee. Make sure you have posted signage in all your a.s.signed spots. And second, I will tolerate no further inquiries or speculation about the Disney decision. Mr. Champion told me last night that they have already looked at several excellent productions, and that they still have five more schools to go see . . . and . . ." His tone was even angrier now. "And . . . one of the available slots will definitely be ours." He paused for a second, his face still so serious that the students seemed to be doubting what they had just heard. Then he slowly broke into a smile, and he threw his paper into the air. The room erupted.

Once he quieted the group, he scanned the room. "And you all thought I was too old to act anymore."

The kids all cheered and shouted their acknowledgment of just how thoroughly he'd gotten them. He continued, "The committee was in agreement about the fact that our production far surpa.s.sed any they'd seen so far. They made special mention of your performance, Priscilla." Priscilla's grin was huge. "And of the sharpness of our dance sequences." He nodded toward Faye, the student ch.o.r.eographer. "And in particular they mentioned the professional quality of the costumes." He nodded toward Lauren. "Well done, everyone."

The whole cast and crew began to jump up and down and hug one another. Mr. Rivers came over to Lauren. "Really well done. I believe the day is coming, in the not-too-distant future, when we will all say, 'Lauren Summers? I knew her when.'"

He walked to the front of the stage. "Okay, 'Maidenhood' scene, let's take it from the top."

On the Monday of the second week after the play had ended, Lauren was in the process of pulling weeds when she heard a car pull up. She turned and was surprised to see a white Lexus in her driveway. The cottage had officially sold to Miss Montgomery, but maybe Mr. Edwards needed something from the attic? Lauren stood and waved as he emerged from his car.

"Hi, Lauren. I hate to just drop by like this, but Miss Montgomery told us that you were home."

Told us? Lauren looked to see DeeDee climbing out of the pa.s.senger's seat and another younger woman exiting the back. She was a drop-dead gorgeous blonde in her late twenties or perhaps early thirties. Her high-end silk sweater and wool slacks practically screamed money.

"I wanted you to meet my daughter, Rebecca," Mr. Edwards said.

Rebecca walked toward Lauren, the fact that she was wearing four-inch heels not slowing her down regardless of the uneven pavement. She extended her hand. "So nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

"Nice to meet you, too." Heard a lot about me? Lauren looked down at her sweats.h.i.+rt and jeans, both a little dirty from the afternoon's gardening adventure. "Sorry, I've been working in the yard. I wasn't really expecting to see anyone."

"Yes, we apologize about dropping in on you unannounced like this, but we weren't sure about our own schedule and didn't want to set up something we weren't sure we would make." Rebecca smiled. "I hate it when people don't keep appointments, don't you?"

"Yes, I guess I do." She looked back and forth between the three of them, waiting to find out what this was all about. Finally, she said, "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Maybe," Rebecca said. "You see, here's the thing. I'm getting married next summer, and once Miss Montgomery found out about it, she began to strongly suggest that I speak to you about the wedding gown. I'd like to have a custom gown, you see, and in fact, I have a couple of designer appointments already on the books, but I wanted to think outside the status quo. Then, when I heard what an honor you've been given at the museum, and when I saw the pictures of the wedding dress you did for Camelot and heard about Disney's response to it, well . . . it seems to me that if you can make a dress that lovely with such fine detail on such a limited budget, then I believe we should maybe speak about what you could do with fewer constraints."

Lauren felt her heart begin to beat a little faster. "Really? Well sure, come on in."

She looked down at the dirt on her hands. "Just let me wash up for a second. I'll get my sketchbook out, and we can talk some ideas."

An hour later, Lauren and Rebecca had settled on two sketches. One for the wedding dress itself, the other for the three bridesmaids. They made an appointment to look at fabric as soon as New Year's was over. Rebecca also left a sizable check as a deposit. "This has been just fabulous," she said. "I can't wait to see the final product."

"I'm happy to be working with you. See you in the new year."

And the white Lexus pulled off down the street. It looked as if Lauren's dreams might actually be coming true. At least for just this once.

Thank You, Father.

thirty-seven.

The white lights twinkled on Lauren's tabletop Christmas tree and Christmas music came from the tiny speakers attached to her iPod as she hunched over her work table, carefully repairing a loose section of lace that had pulled away from the silk charmeuse. She was making a lovely dress for Frances to wear tomorrow evening to the opening event at the fas.h.i.+on museum.

The complete display wouldn't be ready for another month, but they had pulled together all of the more important pieces-especially the gowns that might be considered "holiday attire"-and they were going to open a smaller display now, hoping to catch some of the Christmas shopping crowd. The dress for Frances was a surprise, and Lauren needed to get it finished by this afternoon in order to take it over and make certain it fit. Her concentration was so deep that the knock on the door caused her to jump.

Frances was standing on the front porch, a newspaper rolled in her left hand. "Good morning, Lauren. Are you beginning to get excited?"

"I'm well past beginning to at this point. In fact, I'm pretty much off-the-charts excited by now." She gestured toward the living room. "Please come in."

"I don't have time to stay. I have a lot to do, and I'm sure you're busy, as well, but I wanted to make certain that you have seen today's paper."

Lauren shook her head. "I've never been much of a newspaper reader, and in spite of the fact that Miss Montgomery has procured someone to deliver her paper all the way out here, I somehow doubt that I could be included in that deal without a lot of expense."

Frances smiled. "There's probably some truth to that, and that's what we concluded, which is why Miss Montgomery insisted that I come over here right away and show this to you."

"Really?" Lauren a.s.sumed there must be some sort of dress or costume Miss Montgomery had found amusing in the Thursday Arts section of the paper. "What've we got?"

Frances handed her the folded paper, her face no longer containing her smile. "Look at the front page."

The headline read Marisa Remington Admits to Staging "Wardrobe Malfunction." Lauren stared at the headline, then back up at Frances. "This can't be true. What does the article say? Did you read it?"

"Yes, I did. And I'll leave it here with you so that you can enjoy it at your leisure. The gist of it seems to be that she double-crossed the designer who helped stage it all. The designer became so angry that she went to the press. Marisa, it seems, is so full of herself that when a tabloid reporter, disguised as a seamstress working for the designer, started questioning her about it, she laid it all out there. Every bit. Including laughing about how gullible you were. They have the entire thing recorded, and although the legality of such a recording may be challenged in court, the fact is that it has been heard. Loud and clear. The whole world knows that you are blameless-and that includes Miss Montgomery and me."

Lauren leaned back against the doorjamb. "I can't believe it."

"Well, believe it. It's for real." Frances glanced back toward the Victorian. "Did you know anything about this?"

"Yes." Lauren looked again at the headline. "Kendall Joiner, that reporter, told me about it early on. She said she would help me get the true story out there if I would help her get information about Miss Montgomery."

"Really?" Frances put her hand to her mouth and nodded. "You had quite an incentive to give up information, didn't you?"

Lauren shrugged. "The truth came out anyway."

"And it couldn't have come at a better time. With the grand opening tomorrow night, it will not only remove any negative publicity that someone might have dragged up about it, but now it can only bring more good publicity to the display at the museum."

"You're right." Lauren shook her head, still unable to believe this. "I just hope that this whole Marisa thing doesn't overshadow the exhibit. The dresses truly are astounding."

"We are so looking forward to the opening event."

"As am I. And speaking of . . . would you mind looking at something? I took the liberty of making this, thinking it might be something you'd like to wear to the big night." She couldn't help but grin as she watched Frances's face and the realization that this dress was meant for her. "I thought the gray color would look nice with your eyes."

"It's the most beautiful dress I've ever seen, let alone that I've ever owned."

"I'm so glad you like it. I'll need you to try it on, but I'm not quite ready yet. Okay if I bring it over in a couple of hours for a fitting?"

"I just don't know that this day could get any better," Frances said.

"You know what? Neither do I."

It was midafternoon when Lauren's phone rang. "This is Rebecca Edwards," said the voice on the other end. "I couldn't believe what I saw in the paper-everyone is talking about it."

"I hope you don't feel that this will be a distraction for your wedding-dress plans."

"Are you kidding me? It seems I've got first dibs on the hottest new designer in town, which is one of the reasons I called. My friend Mitzi just got engaged, would you mind if I gave her your number?"

"No. I wouldn't mind at all."

thirty-eight.