I wasn’t making the dress for Diane.
I was making it for the girl who had spent Saturdays beside me and knew what the pale blue thread meant.
For eleven months, I worked after closing.
Chloe wanted a timeless gown with long lace sleeves, a graceful neckline, and a skirt that moved softly.
I found the lace in a Brooklyn shop, paid for it myself, shaped the bodice, and sewed every bead by hand.
I worked until midnight with the radio playing.
Every other Saturday, Chloe stood on my wooden box before the cracked mirror for a fitting, sometimes crying before I took out the pins.
“Is it really going to look like this on the wedding day?” she asked once.
“Better,” I told her.
“You’ll be wearing it, and you’ll be happy.”
The night I finished, I stayed alone in the shop.
I checked every seam, brushed away the loose threads, and turned up the inside of the hem.
Then I took out the same pale blue thread my mother had used and stitched: “For Chloe, from your Aunt Ruthie, with all my love.”
I tied the knot and sat looking at the words.
I thought of my mother, the girls who had worn her gowns, and Chloe sorting buttons on that old stool.
I was proud she had asked me to make it.
Two weeks before the wedding, the seating cards arrived.
I wasn’t in the wedding party or at the family table.
My card said table 19, beside the swinging kitchen door.
My place was between the DJ’s assistant and Paul’s elderly uncle, who was deaf in both ears and perfectly content about it.
Chloe called me as soon as she saw the chart.
“Aunt Ruthie, I didn’t do this.
Mom made the seating plan.
I’m going to fix it.”
“Sweetheart, don’t you dare spend your time worrying about me,” I said.
“You have enough to think about.
All I want is to see you walk down that aisle.”
I didn’t tell her how it felt.
I didn’t want her wedding week taken over by another argument with her mother.
A week before the ceremony, I learned something else.
I was dropping off several altered jackets at Paul’s office when he came out to greet me.
He was a gentle, tired man, and he had always been kind to me.
“Ruth, you must be excited,” he said.
“Diane tells me the dress finally arrived from Paris.
Twelve thousand dollars.