Page 166 of Banter & Blushes

I sighed. “I know. Okay. I think I’ve decided to skip the sleevesand train. But there’s still so much to do.”

“Sew matchato do,” he teased, referencing my profession and his favorite iced pre-workout drink.

He was corny like that.

The pun worked, and I laughed.

“How about I take the girls to the arts and crafts activity tonight?” he offered.

I laughed again. “You don’t have any idea what it is, do you?”

“Not a clue.”

I slid out from his embrace and walked into the kitchen for the Folder-O-Fun on the counter. The Wednesday schedule was right on top. “‘Crochet Corner: Join our Head of Security, Jack Dalton, as he teaches beginner and advanced crocheters. Learn a chain stitch or a cat stitch while you lounge on our back deck. Dessert, coffee, and tea included.’” I caught his gaze and lifted my eyebrows. “I have to take them.”

“Or I can learn how to crochet. From aman.”

I chuckled. “By all means, go for it then.”

“I’ve heard about that guy. He was a Green Beret, and if he can crochet, so can I.”

I set the folder down as the back door banged open. Isla and Amelie ran inside, followed by my mother, with both Westies on their leashes.

“Thanks for picking them up from camp, Mom,” I said. “Girls, it’s time to shower and?—”

“We know!” they chorused.

The girls were loving Camp Cliff Walk. Each night at dinner, they recounted their day animatedly and reenacted their favorite moment with gusto. My favorite so far was their impression of JC when they pranked his sandwich. Today was day three, and they had their routine down. Breakfast, camp, shower, dinner, after-dinner family activity, bedtime story. We’d set a goal to finish the Anne of Green Gables series by the end of our RV trip and were just about at one of my favorite parts inAnne of Ingleside.Isla and Amelie had been captivated by Anne’s five-year-old twins, Nan and Di. We’d had many a lively discussion regarding the fictional twins’ choices, adventures, and trouble with other little girls.

Tonight’s dinner was for the wedding party and out-of-towners. There would be another one Friday night at the beach after the rehearsal in the church. Then the wedding on Saturday, and before we knew it, Sunday would be here in a blink.

The panic started to set in again.

Stop it, Arwyn. It doesn’t have to be perfect.

But I wanted it to be.

While Zaki carried my gown into the bedroom to keep it safe overnight from Laffy and Vennie, I tidied up, placing everything I needed to customize the bodice in a bin for when I returned after dinner. If it had been any other project, I would have brought it to the arts and crafts event to work on, but I wanted tokeep the fine details of my gown to myself and Mom—and also far away from messy desserts.

Dinner was animated, as I expected it would be. The hockey players, Flynn and Meggie’s family and friends, and past teammates of Flynn’s from when he played in New England filled the dining room. To be truthful, I was glad to be going back to Salt Mist Cottage afterward. I needed to recharge in a quiet space.

“Can I make you some tea?” Mom asked.

“Yes, please,” I said. “There’s a box of blueberry tea leaves on the counter.”

“On it. Hey,” she called. “Any preference on which mug? These are so interesting.Decaf? No Thanks, I Like My Sanity. Sea-ze the Day. Berry Sweet Mornings Start Here. You Mocha Me So Happy. Steeped in Love. Cliffside Diner: Where Every Sip is a Story. You’re My Cup of Tea. Perk Up, Buttercup?”

“No preference,” I said. “You pick for me. Molly said every mug at the resort is different, like at the Coffee Loft in Palmer City. I think it’s cool.”

The master suite had a sitting area, and I sat on the love seat to work on the bodice. It was finally hitting me that this gown was forme.I’d restored, redesigned, and reworked wedding gowns for dozens of brides. Designed and adorned and constructed others from scratch, but this one—this one—was just for me. And I’d get to wear two versions of it.

Another gift of Zaki’s spontaneity.

Mom joined me and set out tea on the thin, rectangular coffee table. I read the mugs she’d chosen:You’re My Cup of Teafor me andSea-ze the Dayfor her.

That was Mom, all right.

I loved spending time with her. We swapped stories from town and her travels that we couldn’t share over email or in short phone conversations.

---