Chapter 37
A nita hovered by the front window of her new building, watching the activity on the street in front of her.
The familiar figures she was waiting for soon came into view.
“I knew you’d be here first thing,” she said, hurrying to meet Judy and Joan on the sidewalk. Their husbands trailed behind them.
“I wonder if Charlotte knew there was a mastodon in her basement,” Joan said with a grin.
“She probably didn’t know about the hidden room or the bootleg operation, either,” Judy added. “Those secrets have stayed buried for decades.”
“We’re not positive that whatever is sticking out of the ground down there is a part of a mastodon,” Anita reminded them.
“When will you know?” Joan asked.
“I spoke to Maggie last night,” Anita said. “She’ll contact the head of Highpointe’s geology department first thing this morning. She doesn’t know what’s on Dr. Locke’s schedule, but she’s certain she’ll rearrange her schedule to come out and look.”
“That’s Dr. Fiona Locke, isn’t it?” Judy asked. “She’s one of my customers—smart as a whip. I’ll bet she’ll know just by looking at it.”
“I hope so,” Anita said. “I’m on pins and needles.”
“Okay, ladies,” Sam said. “Enough talking—let’s get down there and see this thing!”
Jeff handed out flashlights, and they followed Sam and Jeff down the steep basement stairs and into the hidden room. They approached the protruding object slowly—almost reverently.
“Would you look at that?” Judy whispered. “The exposed part is—what—two feet long? I wonder how big it’ll be when it’s excavated.”
“Who knows,” Sam said. “It may not even be in one piece.”
Joan looked down at the ground beneath her feet. “I wonder if we’re standing on its skull or something.”
“Oh, I hope so,” Judy said. “Imagine having a complete skeleton—wouldn’t that be incredible? What would you do with it?” she asked, turning to Anita.
“Whatever’s down there needs a new home,” Anita said.
“If Highpointe wants it, I’ll donate it to the college.
Gordon and I were talking last night—he suggested an exhibit down here that details the excavation.
We’d post photos of the process and recreate the dig site.
He even suggested we reproduce some of the bones. ”
“That sounds really interesting,” Joan said.
“We’d use half of the basement for that, and the other half to display the still, the desk”—she pointed to the other side of the room—“and information about Prohibition and bootlegging. He suggested calling it theHidden Histories Room.”
“Genius,” Judy said. “Love that idea.”
“He’s not only my biggest supporter, but a tremendous help,” Anita said. “I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
Judy and Joan exchanged a knowing look.
“From what I see,” Joan said gently, “I don’t think you’ll ever have to find out.”
The basement was too dim for anyone to notice the color rising into Anita’s cheeks.
“Well,” Anita said, her voice brisk. “That’s all there is to see. I need to get back to the shop. Sunday’s bringing in the wedding dress she bought online for alterations.”
“Don’t your seamstresses mark the alterations?” Joan asked.
“As a rule,” Anita said with a smile. “But we’ve got a surprise in store for Sunday.”
She led them out of the basement and up the stairs, telling them the story of Sunday’s wedding dress misadventure.
“That was clever of you to get a photo of the dress she really wants,” Judy said.
“I love that your shop is going to make her the dress of her dreams,” Joan added. “It would be great to see her face when you give her the news.”
“That’s why I’m heading back to the shop.
I told her I contacted other bridal shops in the state, and no one had anything like the dress she wants in stock.
She’s convinced she has to make do with the one that was sent to her.
I want to be there when she finds out she doesn’t have to settle at all. ”
“You’ll have to work fast to complete it in time,” Joan said. “If you need another pair of hands to finish the work, let me know. I have free time—I’d be happy to help.”
“I’ll take you up on that,” Anita said. “I know what a fine seamstress you are, Joan.”
“I wish I knew how to sew,” Judy said with a shrug. “But I don’t, so I can’t help in that way.”
They were at the door when Judy suddenly turned back.
“I have an idea,” she said. “Something to help advertise the museum during the excavation—no matter the results.”
Anita and Joan stopped and looked at her.
“You said that vintage Singer on display at the library still works, right?”
“Yes,” Anita said. “It’s in perfect order. I still enjoy sewing on it, actually.”
“Is it a lot slower than the machines you use at the shop?”
“It’s slower, but not bad—just different.”
Judy took a deep breath. “This might seem impossible given your deadline, but what if you used the Singer to sew Sunday’s dress?”
“You mean bring the machine back to the shop?” Anita asked, puzzled. “Why on earth would I do that?”
“No—sew the dress right there at the library.” Judy’s eyes lit up. “I know seamstresses need large tables—I’ve seen yours at the shop. The library has lots of big tables. I think people will find it fascinating.”
Joan clapped her hands. “That’s a fabulous idea, Judy! Post a schedule so visitors know when you’ll be there. I’ll bet people will come just to see you work.”
Anita raised a skeptical brow. “It sounds a little like inviting people to watch paint dry.”
“That’s only because you’ve been sewing your whole life,” Judy said. “Lots of people haven’t seen a sewing machine in operation, let alone a vintage one.”
“The library might even livestream it,” Joan offered. “You know, like that eagle cam that was so popular. They could call it ‘Dress Cam.’”
“I think you’ve lost your minds,” Anita said, laughing.
“Judy’s right,” Joan insisted. “Even if you can’t sew the whole dress there, doing part of it would be great.”
Anita looked at the earnest, hopeful faces of her two closest friends.
“I’ll ask Sunday what she thinks when we tell her about the dress,” she said. “If she likes the idea, I’ll give it a go.”
“Dress Cam, here we come!” Joan said, high-fiving Judy.
Anita’s phone chimed. She glanced at the screen and smiled. “Showtime, ladies. Sunday just arrived at the shop. I’ll let you know how it went the minute she leaves.”
Anita’s head seamstress intercepted her at the front door to the shop.
“She’s in the dressing room,” the woman said. “She’s slipping into the dress she believes she’s stuck with.”
“Good,” Anita said. “I don’t want to suggest we’ll make her dream dress if she’s now decided she likes this one. It really is lovely on her.”
“I agree. We never try to change a bride’s mind about her dress,” she said, reciting the shop’s mantra.
“Exactly,” Anita replied. “Come with me to the fitting room. We’ll know if she’s fallen in love with this dress the moment we see her.”
“I’ll catch your eye and nod if I think she’s still disappointed but making the best of it.”
“Perfect,” Anita said. “Okay … let’s see if we’re about to launch a sewing frenzy around here.”
“I hope we are,” the woman whispered as she followed Anita.
Anita tapped on the fitting room door. “Ready?” she called.
“Yes,” Sunday replied, her voice flat.
Anita shot a knowing look at the seamstress and opened the door.
Sunday stood on the raised platform wearing satin wedding pumps and the gown. She was facing them, not the mirror.
“You look lovely, dear,” Anita said, stepping into the room.
Sunday forced a smile. “Thank you,” she said.
“Turn to face the mirror, please,” Anita said gently.
Sunday turned around.
Anita stood behind her, and their gazes met in the reflection.
“I’d like you to take the straps up, like you suggested before. I think I’ll be happier if the dress doesn’t sit so low on my body,” Sunday said.
Anita caught the seamstress’s slight nod out of the corner of her eye.
“I’ve got a better idea,” Anita said. “One that will make you even happier with your wedding dress.”
Sunday ran her eyes up and down her reflection in the mirror. “What could that be? There isn’t much to work with.”
“We’ve been talking,” Anita said, gesturing to the seamstress and the workroom behind them. “All of us here at Archer’s Bridal. The dress in that picture—the one you originally wanted—is a classic design. It would look stunning on you. We’ve made dozens like it over the years.”
Sunday tilted her head, then turned to face Anita. “What do you mean?”
“We decided,” Anita said, “that, if you came in and weren’t thrilled with this dress, we would offer to make you the one in the picture.”
Sunday clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide as she looked from Anita to the seamstress.
“We have most of the fabric we’ll need on hand, and we can purchase the rest of the materials by the end of the week,” the seamstress said, smiling. “And, as Anita said, we already have the patterns. We’ll take measurements today, and you’d have to come in frequently for fittings.”
“You guys …” Sunday’s voice caught. “I can’t believe you’d do this. You realize the wedding is in four and a half weeks, right?”
“We’ll be working overtime, that’s for sure,” Anita said. “But it will give us great joy to do this for you.”
“Then … yes.” Sunday’s voice trembled. “I’d love for you to make that dress for me.”
“I’ll grab my notepad,” the seamstress said. “Let’s get your measurements.” She stepped out of the room.
Sunday cleared her throat. “Before you get started, I need to make sure I can afford this. Do you know what it will cost?”
Anita gave her a figure.
“That can’t be right,” Sunday said. “That’s less than the one I ordered online. And your dress will be a custom-made wedding gown!”
Anita took her hand. “I’m only charging you for the materials. Archer’s Bridal will donate the labor.”
“You can’t do that,” Sunday protested. “That’s way too generous.”
“Because of you, my sewing machines are on exhibit at your library. That’s turned out to be the best publicity I could’ve hoped for. I’ve already had dozens of inquiries.” Anita took a deep breath. “You’ve heard about the possible archaeological dig in the basement?”
Sunday nodded. “It’s the talk of campus. I assume it’ll delay your grand opening. We’ll leave your machines on exhibit at the library until you’re ready to move them to the museum.”
“You see,” Anita said. “That’s more than kind.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Sunday said. “That’s what librariansdo.It’s no big deal.”
“It is to me,” Anita said. “I want to make your dream dress to repay your kindness.”
Sunday swept Anita into a tight hug. “This is the most special thing anyone’s ever done for me. I promise I’ll be here promptly for every fitting. Just say the word.”
“About that,” Anita said. “Judy had an idea. At first, I thought it was crazy, but the more I considered it, the more merit I see.”
Sunday pulled back and raised her eyebrows.
“She thinks we should sew the dress on the Singer machine on display at the library.”
Sunday shrieked. “That’s aterrificidea! People will find that so interesting. It’ll bring patrons into the library and generate more excitement for your museum.” She gasped. “Ican’t waitto tell Lyla!”
“I’m glad you agree,” Anita said, smiling.
“My office on the third floor is tiny, but it’s private,” Sunday said. “We could do fittings there if that works for you.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Anita said.
Sunday ran her hand through her hair. “We’ll put this all over social media! Let’s livestream parts of the sewing process, similar to the recent eagle cam.”
Anita chuckled. “I didn’t watch it, but I’m learning about it now. Joan and Judy had the same thought and were going on about it.”
“Perhaps they have other great ideas as well,” Sunday mentioned. “I’m pulling Lyla in on this as soon as I get back to the library. We’ll call Judy and Joan to see what else they’ve come up with.”
The seamstress returned, a tape measure around her neck and a notebook in hand.
“I’ll let the two of you get started,” Anita said. She turned to the seamstress. “We’ve decided to construct the dress at the library.”
The woman’s eyebrows shot to her hairline.
“I’ll fill you in later. When do you think we’ll begin sewing?” Anita asked.
“I called our vendor. Everything we need is in stock, and I plan to swing by after we finish the measurements. We’ll have the pieces cut by the end of the week, so you could start sewing on Monday.”
“Then Monday it will be,” Anita said with a nod.
“If I know Lyla,” Sunday added, “she’ll get the word out before the day’s over. Is there anything you need from the library?”
“A long table,” Anita said.
Sunday chuckled. “You’re in luck—libraries are full of those. I’ll have one set up next to that sewing machine before Monday.”