flipped her hair up in a messy bun on top of her head and put away all her things as methodically as she’d gotten them out. “Okay, I’m ready for the dress and the veil.”
After Tabby took off her capris and shirt, Mitzi held the dress for her to step into. Tabby stood in front of a long bank of mirrors with a few other bride models as Mitzi fastened each little satin button on the arms of the dress. “I feel pretty in this. Do you think I’ll like feel like this on my real wedding day?”
“Yes, I do,” Mitzi assured her. “Now for the veil.” She set the tiara on the top of Tabby’s head. “I don’t think I messed up your hairdo. If I’d tried to do that with mine, it would’ve looked more like a fresh cow pile than an elaborate style.”
“It’s all in the twist of the hand and the curls from those little pink sponge rollers you saw me in this morning.”
Tabby inhaled deeply and then let it out slowly as Mitzi snapped another dozen or more pictures. “Oh, Mitzi, just look at me. When I get married, I want a veil like this. Nothing over my face to make me sneeze,” Tabby said. “Okay, are we ready?”
“Depends.” Mitzi snapped more pictures.
“On what?”
“If you’re going barefoot or if you’re going to wear the shoes in that box.” Mitzi pointed.
Tabby giggled as she took out the shoes and slipped her feet into them. “I’m nervous.”
“Not as much as I am,” Mitzi admitted. “My mama used to give me a kiss on the forehead for good luck when I had something that made me nervous. Granny gave me one on the day we opened our shop since Mama wasn’t here to do it. Now I’m giving one to you.” She leaned forward and brushed a soft kiss on Tabby’s forehead.
Tabby took a step forward and kissed Mitzi on the cheek.
“I wish my mother was here,” one of the other models said.
“Not me,” Tabby said. “I’d rather have Mitzi.”
Mitzi got misty eyed and was so glad that she was there with Tabby.
“Five minutes.” The coordinator pointed to Tabby.
“Maybe I need one more kiss to calm me down. I don’t want to disappoint y’all, and I’ve got butterflies in my stomach,” Tabby said.
“I don’t believe it,” Mitzi said. “Not after that performance with Lyle.”
“That was pretend. This is real.” Tabby pointed to her forehead.
“Three minutes. Come on over here and get ready to go through the curtains,” the woman said.
Tabby started that way with Mitzi right behind her. “If I don’t trip or freeze at the end of the runway, will you ask Daddy out?”
“No, I won’t.” Mitzi kissed her on the forehead one more time.
“If he asks you out, will you say yes?” Tabby pressed.
“We’ll see,” Mitzi answered.
The lady held up one finger.
“Go on so I can see you in the crowd. That’ll calm me right down, and besides, you need to take pictures for Daddy.” Tabby nodded toward the side door.
“And now, from The Perfect Dress, a custom plus-sized wedding shop in Celeste, Texas, we have Tabby Harrison modeling one of their creations,” the man with the microphone said.
Mitzi had barely sat down in the chair beside Jody when Tabby stepped out with her bouquet in one hand and the other on her hip. As if she were born to be a model, Tabby slowly made her way to the end of the runway, flipped the train behind her as if she was doing the crowd a favor when she turned, and started back.
The applause was deafening, and a guy right behind them tapped Mitzi on the shoulder. When she turned around, he handed her a business card and asked, “I saw you hurry out just as they announced the model. Are you the owner of that place?”
“Yes, with my partners,” she answered.
“Want to make up a few dresses in various sizes on consignment? I’d love to sell them in my shop in Houston. Finding dresses in anything more than an eighteen is tough, and I’ve had to turn away customers in sizes twenty up through thirty.”
“No, thank you. We like to work directly with our customers.”
“Well, if you change your mind, just give me a call. That’s some gorgeous work and the fit is superb.”
“Thank you. Now I’ve got to get back to help my model out of the dress.” She stood up and offered her hand.