Page 34 of Threads of Kindness
CHAPTER 17
Sunday stood in front of the full-length mirror in the library’s third-floor women’s bathroom. She held her phone in her left hand, scrolling through photos of wedding dresses she’d bookmarked. It was easier to imagine what they might look like on her if she visualized in front of a mirror. Sunday wanted to order her dress as soon as possible. She felt guilty doing this at work, but classes hadn’t resumed yet after the winter holiday, and she wasn’t busy.
After answering the smattering of emails in her inbox, Sunday had spent the morning combing through vintage wedding dresses offered by a plethora of online retailers. She knew what she wanted—the dream dress that had lived in her mind since adolescence had never changed. She longed for a creamy-white lace gown with long sleeves, a fitted V-neck bodice, a full skirt, and a train.
Looking through the online bridal shops, she realized what she wanted was no longer in fashion. She told herself she should consider some of the newer styles, and then swiftly rejected the thought. Being a rare book librarian, she appreciated old and vintage things in every aspect of her life. She would have to find her dress in a vintage shop. That someone had already worn itdidn’t bother her in the least. Sunday liked to think that a dress that had launched a prior happy marriage would bring her luck.
The restroom on the third floor, near her office, was rarely used. She could peruse her choices to her heart’s content. She was toggling between her two favorites—looking from her phone to her reflection in the mirror and back again—when the restroom door opened and Lyla stepped inside.
Sunday looked at the woman who had gone from colleague—as the library’s bookkeeper—to best friend, and now soon-to-be mother-in-law. The story of how Lyla had given up Josh for adoption at birth, believing his father had died of cancer, only to reunite with her son years later after his adoptive parents had passed away, still brought a lump to Sunday’s throat. That Robert Harris—her counterpart rare book librarian at another university—had turned out to be Josh’s very much alive biological father, and now Lyla’s loving husband, always made her weepy. It all sounded like a romance novel, except it was true.
“Looking for me?” Sunday asked.
“I am,” Lyla replied. “You weren’t in your office, so I decided to track you down. What are you doing?”
“Wedding dress shopping,” Sunday said. “Don’t tell on me, okay? I’m caught up on my work.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” Lyla said. “You work rings around the other librarians. If you want to take a few minutes to shop for your wedding dress—well, I think you’d be likeeverybride in America. It’s fine by me. Have you found anything?”
Sunday tapped her screen and held it out. “These are my two finalists. I came in here to look at the dresses and then at myself in the mirror to see what I think.” She scrolled to the second one.
“Oh, they’re both lovely,” Lyla said. “You wouldn’t go wrong with either one. They’re very different—the lace one is demureand detailed while the satin one is much simpler. Do you have a favorite?”
Sunday nodded. “The lace one has been the dress of my dreams my whole life. I was thrilled when I found it first thing this morning, but I’ve been second-guessing myself ever since—telling myself I shouldn’t buy the first dress I see.”
“Nonsense,” Lyla said. “When you know, you know.”
She took the phone from Sunday and stepped back, studying the image, then turning to picture it on Sunday.
“I think the lace one will be perfect. It’s very Kate Middleton, you know.”
“The train isn’t anywhere near as long as hers,” Sunday said, “but it’s got the same vibe.”
Lyla handed the phone back and watched Sunday’s face as she looked at the photo.
“You know how a cloud covers the sun,” Lyla said, “and then suddenly moves away—and it’s as if God has shone a spotlight on the earth?” She met Sunday’s eyes in the mirror. “That’s what you look like when you scroll from the other dress to this one. You’ve got your answer. I think you should order it.”
Sunday grinned at her friend and pulled her into a hug.
“Thank you for helping me make this decision,” she said. “I’ll order it as soon as I get back to my desk.”
“Any other wedding news to share?” Lyla asked.
“We filled out the forms to reserve the Highpointe College Chapel for the last Saturday in March,” Sunday said. “A few minutes ago, they confirmed our reservation. We’ll have a late morning wedding with lunch in the chapel gardens.”
Lyla clasped her hands together. “Oh, that sounds fabulous!”
“Unless we have rain,” Sunday said. “Then it’ll go from fabulous to disastrous.”
“Let’s not think that way,” Lyla said. “We’ll keep an eye on the weather forecast and we’ll have a Plan B—just in case. Anything else?”
“Susan Scanlon has agreed to be my matron of honor, and Frank Haynes will be Josh’s best man,” Sunday said.
“Excellent!” Lyla said. “You’re making tremendous progress.”
“There’s one more thing I’d still like to resolve,” Sunday said. “I was going to ask you about it.”
“I’m here right now. What is it?” Lyla asked.
