Chapter 39
A nita paused to read the sign posted at the library’s front entrance. The attractive poster, designed with a delicate lace background and elegant scrollwork font, declared:
Watch History in the Making: Sunday’s Wedding Dress—Sewn Live!
A bold QR code beneath the title promised streaming access and details.
She glanced at Gordon. “I’m still not convinced this is going to be interesting to anyone,” she said.
“Oh, ye of little faith,” he replied. “I think you’re going to go viral—and so does everyone else who knows about the project.” He shifted the tall garment bag he carried over his shoulder.
Anita held the door for him. “Thank you for schlepping the fabric,” she said. “We didn’t think through the logistics of transporting the cut pieces from the shop to the library.”
“I don’t mind,” Gordon said. “I wouldn’t miss your online debut for anything.”
“I’m glad Sunday cleared a space in the storage room for my dress form and supplies. It’ll be a relief not to haul the dress back and forth every day.”
They walked past the circulation desk. The student working there looked up and gave Anita an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “I’ll be watching on my phone,” she said in a stage whisper.
Anita smiled and nodded as they passed.
Gordon laid the garment bag on the long library table positioned beside the black Singer treadle machine. Anita had oiled it, threaded it, and adjusted the bobbin’s tension the day before. All was ready.
She unzipped the garment bag and carefully unwrapped the tissue-wrapped bodice pieces, spreading them flat on the table. She caressed the ivory satin gazar, smoothing out the edges of the first seam she intended to stitch.
Gordon stepped back and watched, admiration in his eyes. He knew an artist at work when he saw one.
Sunday slipped into the exhibit room from the back, taking a seat beside a laptop on a nearby stand. She would manage the livestream setup, and had the perfect vantage point to watch the first seam of her wedding dress take shape.
Lyla adjusted the camera tripod and then moved to the small microphone positioned near the machine.
“Okay, Anita,” she stated. “Are you ready to go live?”
Anita swung to face Lyla. Her expression shifted from concentration to surprise as she caught sight of the crowd now staring at her. “Is everyone here to seeme?” she asked, voice trembling slightly.
“They sure are,” Lyla said with a smile. “You’re the woman of the hour. I can’t remember the last time the library was this busy on a weekday.”
Anita blew out a breath and reached for the first fabric pieces. “Let me sit down before you start, okay?”
“Suggestion?” Gordon called from his spot at the edge of the crowd. “Why don’t you start by describing the dress to the audience?” He looked at Lyla. “Does the camera show the worktable?”
Lyla leaned in to check. “It does.”
“I’d stand at the table to begin,” Gordon said. “Describe the dress, then walk to the sewing machine. Tell the audience about it and mention that your grandmother taught you to sew on it. Then start stitching.”
“That’s a great idea,” Sunday said, nodding.
“I can do that,” Anita agreed. She stood beside the table, hands resting lightly on the pattern pieces.
“And we’re live in five … four … three … two … one …” Lyla nodded.
“Welcome toDress Cam,” Anita said, looking directly into the camera.
“I’m Anita Archer, owner of Archer’s Bridal here in Westbury.
I’ll be sewing a wedding gown for Sunday Sloan, rare book librarian at Highpointe College Library—right here in an exhibit filled with vintage sewing machines I’ve collected over the years. ”
She smiled, her posture relaxing.
“First, let me tell you about the dress. It’s going to be spectacular on our beautiful bride.
We’re making it from satin gazar. The dress will have a fitted bodice, a V-neck, and long illusion sleeves in hand-appliquéd lace.
A line of covered buttons will extend the length of the back.
If you watched the royal wedding of Kate Middleton and Prince William, you’ll recognize the style—elegant, timeless, and romantic. ”
“I’m going to begin by sewing the right front bodice to the right back.” She picked up a pinned piece of fabric and took her seat.
“Before I begin, let me tell you about this sewing machine.” She ran her hand across the shiny black enamel with its gold-leaf nameplate.
“It’s a Singer 15K, manufactured in Scotland in the 1930s.
My grandmother bought it in 1939, and it was used at Archer’s Bridal until 1980—when she and the machine retired together. ”
She smiled warmly. “She taught me to sew on this machine. It’s been in use for over 80 years, and, with a bit of loving care, it’ll keep going for many more. It produces beautiful, even stitching—and I love working on it.”
Anita turned the wheel to raise the needle, positioned the fabric, lowered the presser foot, and began pumping the treadle.
The needle moved with a steady hum as the fabric glided forward.
She removed each pin and set them to the side in her pin cushion, guiding the seam with practiced hands.
When she finished the first seam, she cut the threads and held the completed piece toward the camera.
“There. Our first seam is done.” She laid it at the far end of the table and picked up the next pieces. “Now we’ll do the same for the left side of the bodice.”
She continued working, narrating each step. When she finished a seam, she held it up to the camera, explaining its place in the design. And every time she glanced up, she was surprised to see the crowd hadn’t thinned; instead, it had grown.
When she finished stitching the last of the day’s pieces, Sunday asked, “Would you like to take some questions?”
Anita looked out at the crowd. No one raised a hand.
“We’ve got questions from viewers online,” Sunday said, lifting the laptop. “Nancy in Ohio wants to know why you chose satin gazar instead of plain satin.”
“That’s a great question, Nancy,” Anita replied. “Satin gazar has a beautiful shine, like traditional satin, but it has more body. It doesn’t cling—it flows. Sunday’s skirt will move gracefully when she walks.”
“Three more online,” Sunday said. “Let’s answer those, then open it up to folks here at the library.” For fifteen more minutes, Sunday read questions, and Anita answered them with confidence and warmth.
Lyla stepped forward when they were done. “Dress Cam will be back tomorrow,” she announced. She shut off the camera and microphone. The crowd dispersed.
Anita leaned back in her chair. “I can’t believe we had questions from people online.”
“One viewer suggested we post daily photo updates,” Lyla said. “I’m creating aDress Cam Journalfor the library’s website.”
“You’re a natural at this, Anita,” Gordon said, joining them.
“We’ve already had over five hundred views,” Sunday cried. “Hashtag Dress Cam istrending!”
“I’m astounded,” Anita said.
“I think people love the entire story,” Gordon said.
“It’s not just about stitching a wedding dress—it’s about the disappointment of Sunday getting the wrong dress, the kind bridal shop owner saving the day, the short deadline, the vintage sewing machine, and the beautiful library where it all takes place.
It’s romantic, generous—human. You’re a modern-day fairy godmother. ”
Anita burst out laughing. “I never dreamed this would be so successful,” she said. Her smile suddenly vanished. “What if Josh sees the dress?” She turned to Sunday. “Do you believe that old wives’ tale—that it’s bad luck for the groom to see the dress before the wedding?”
“I sure do,” Sunday said. “He promised me he won’t go snooping online. Maggie said she’ll watch on her phone from her office but will keep him away from the screen.”
“Whew.” Anita exhaled. “Let’s store what we’ve finished in the closet. I need to get back to the shop to prepare tomorrow’s pieces.”
“I’m going to ask our custodian to make more space for viewers,” Lyla said. “We’re already up to 800 online viewers. We’ll have more in person the next time.”
“See you tomorrow, fairy godmother,” Sunday said to Anita after they’d stashed the completed pieces.
Anita chuckled. “Goodnight, Cinderella.”