Page 5 of Dress Rescue
“Actually, it was my fault,” I say. “We drove past Irene’s diner. I just had to stop off and have one of her homemade pies. They’re the best in the whole state.”
“About the only thing that Irene is any good for. The stories I could tell you about that woman, you wouldn’t be wanting to eat anything that was made in those hands, that’s for sure.”
I don’t know what to say to that. I’ve known Betsy for years, but sometimes even I am lost for words. “No one’s perfect.”
“Cocks!” Betsy says. “That’s what’s been in her hands. Lots and lots of cocks. Thousands of the damn things. She’s like a milkmaid. Except she doesn’t have any interest in milking cows. Just cocks!”
A mental image of the cherry pie I was eating just hours ago flashes through my head. And then another one of dear, old Irene in the kitchen surrounded by men coming all over her chest.
I may never eat pie again.
“About this dress,” Ellis says, stepping forward. “You told Sara you’ve got a spare one laying around?”
Betsy folds her arms across her chest. Pulls a face like she’s sucking on an aniseed ball. “It’s notlayingaround,” she says, “it’s the prototype. The one we used to make all the others from.”
“But you’ll sell it to me?” he says. “For my daughter?”
Betsy taps her foot against the ground. I realize I should have stopped to buy her some chocolate or some flowers. A gift to soften her infamously crotchety spirit. That’s what my mom always did whenever they had business together.
“I don’t know,” she says, “it’s not something we like to do. It might come in handy.”
Ellis takes a step forward. He puts his hands together in front of him like he’s praying. “Mrs. DeFontaigne, if you could sell me this dress, you’d be saving my life. I haven’t been the best father in the world. When my little Tammy was born, I was a soldier in the army. I missed a lot of things when she was growing up. Her first words. Her first steps. Her first day at school. And by the time I got back from my second tour of duty, my wife had nothing for me but divorce papers. I’ve spent the last five years earning back my daughter’s trust. And that’s no easy thing to accomplish with a teenage girl. If she finds out I ruined her dress, I’m scared she’ll go off to college hating me. And that I’ll never be able to repair our relationship. So, please, Mrs. DeFontaigne. I’ll pay you anything you want. But help me win my daughter back. That’s all I’m asking.”
Betsy waves her hand at him like she’s shooing away flies. “I didn’t ask you for your damn life story,” she says. Then, looking at me, “I told you, didn’t I? Men these days, they’re all a bunch of pussies.”
I put my hand on Ellis’s arm to stop him from saying anything else. It’s my turn to take over. “He may be a pussy,” I say. “But his heart’s in the right place. All he wants is to be a good father. He’s driven hundreds of miles to get this dress. Now, come on. Won’t you put him out of his misery?”
“Fine!” She says, rolling her eyes. “Seeing as how your mom was such a wonderful, kind person who always brought me chocolates or flowers whenever she came to see me, I’ll sell him the dress. But you’re going to have to wait until the morning.”
“The morning?” Ellis says. “I can’t drive back home and then come back here in the morning! That’s crazy.”
Betsy turns to face him. She may be half his size, but I’m not sure I’d put money on Ellis winning in a fight. “There’s a motel down the road. Tell ‘em Betsy sent you. They’ll hook you up. In the meantime, Phillipe will take care of all the alterations you need doing. The one we’ve got ain’t nowhere near the right size.”
Ellis rubs his hand over his face. It’s been a long day, and he can’t seem to catch a break.
He puts his hand on my elbow and guides me off to the side. “I’d understand if you say you don’t wanna stay,” he says, keeping his voice low. “You’ve already done so much, and you’ve got the store to open up in the morning.”
“And what about the dress?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” he says. “I guess I’ll just stay here at the motel overnight and then try and hitch a ride back tomorrow. You can take my car.”
The things this man will do for his daughter. It’s breaking my heart. I can just imagine him on the side of the highway with his thumb out and a dress bag in the other hand. The sweltering heat burning his neck.
“Don’t be stupid,” I say. “My sister can cover another day at the dry cleaners. God knows she hasn’t got anything else to be doing with herself.”
“You’re sure?” he asks.
“Hell, yeah, I’m sure. I haven’t come all this way to not see the job through to the end.”
Ellis jumps forward. He wraps his arms around me. Picks me. Spins me in circles. Once. Twice. Three times. Then puts me down. An embarrassed look on his face. Like a schoolboy caught sneaking into the girl’s locker room.
“Sorry,” he says.
I look away, blushing. It felt good to be in his arms. Too good.
“No big deal,” I say. “Now, come on. Let’s go find this motel.”
4
