“How big is the wedding list?” Mitzi asked.

“We invited everyone in church and all the relatives. We’re having the whole thing out at Darrin’s folks’ place in their big barn. Mama’s not happy about that, either, but good Lord, there’s a thousand people in Celeste. If even a third of them came, the church wouldn’t work.” Ellie Mae opened her folder and started going through the pages.

Mitzi’s mind wandered as she waited. Ellie Mae was right about the population of Celeste, Texas, but Fanny Lou had said that to get that many folks, the census takers counted the dogs and cats. Folks had thought Mitzi and her friends were crazy to put a specialized bridal shop in a town that small, but it wasn’t far from the bigger town of Greenville, Texas.

Besides, there wasn’t another shop like it for miles and miles around. So from the time they’d opened the shop a year ago, they’d been swamped with business. And maybe next year they’d even get invited to attend the Dallas Bridal Fair. They hadn’t opened the shop in time to nab a place this year, but they were on the waiting list.

Mitzi had thought about renting one of the empty downtown places in those two small city blocks when she first got the idea of a custom specialty shop, but none of them had the ambience that the old house did. It seemed like one of Paula’s omens that it occupied the corner of the last block zoned for commercial business.

After a couple of minutes, Ellie Mae laid a picture out on the table. “I like the neckline and sleeves on this one, but I don’t want that empire waistline. Everyone would think I was pregnant for sure.”

Like all small Texas towns, Celeste was a place where everyone knew everyone else, and usually what they were doing. All it would take was a few phone calls for a pregnancy rumor to float around.

Then Ellie Mae pulled out a second picture of a formfitting dress. “This is the style I like, but I want it fuller in the back so I can dance at the reception without feeling all cramped up.” She laid another picture on the top of those. “I want a train like this with our initials done up in beaded, interlocking hearts on it. I’ve been looking at wedding dresses for ideas for a year.”

“Sounds like you’ve done my work for me.” Mitzi gathered the pictures back into the folder. “Let’s go into the fabric room. What color do you have in mind?”

“Black lace over pale-pink satin.”

Mitzi thought she should really warn the cell phone company. Those towers between Celeste and Greenville were going to sizzle when folks learned that Ellie Mae was wearing black to her wedding. Her father, Frank, was the preacher in the biggest church in town, and her mother, Nancy, played the piano on Sunday morning. If Mitzi had been an author instead of a seamstress, she could fill a whole book with nothing but the gossip over a black wedding dress.

“That right there.” Ellie Mae reached for a bolt of black Chantilly lace as they walked into the room, but she was too short to get a hold on it.

Mitzi pulled it down and then removed a bolt of white bridal satin and one of pale pink. She rolled out several yards on a long table and overlaid the black lace on both.

“Not the pink,” Ellie Mae said. “Mama’s going to flip out over the black anyway, but over the pink it looks like I’m naked under the lace. That white does look pretty. What would it look like with white beading?”

Mitzi took out a drawer full of medium-size beads and laid some out in a double heart. “What do you think?”

“I love it.” Ellie Mae’s blue eyes glittered. “I’ll use a circlet of white roses in my hair with just a touch of black lace.”

“Maybe since your mama wants a veil, we could do something like this.” Mitzi picked up a beautiful black-lace hat with a wide brim and set it on Ellie Mae’s head. “This might be an option instead, and it looks lovely with your blonde hair.”

Ellie Mae turned toward a mirror and gasped. “Look at me! It’s so different, and I can wear my hair down in big waves. How about a pouf of black illusion at the back with a little bit trailing down my back?”

Mitzi took a roll of illusion from the shelf, cut off two yards, and using straight pins, fixed it to the back of the hat.

“Yes! That’s it. I love it. When can you get started?” Ellie Mae asked. “And can we keep it all under wraps? I’m not even sure I want Mama to see it before the wedding day.”

“The Perfect Dress has the same confidentiality laws as a therapist,” Mitzi told her. “I’ll get the dress drawn up, and you can come in on Friday to approve it.”

“Fantastic. Darrin will be wearing a white tux with a black-and-red paisley cummerbund, and I’m carrying red roses,” Ellie Mae said. “It’s all going to be beautiful.”

“Yes, it is, and very unusual. I may have to stock up on black lace after this. You could start a brand-new trend.” Mitzi had trouble keeping her mind off what Fanny Lou had said about Ellie Mae being an angel.

“That would be something, wouldn’t it? What time do I come by on Friday?”

Mitzi opened her appointment book. “How does eleven thirty work for you? You’ll approve the dress. I’ll take some measurements. We’ll be done in less than half an hour unless you want some adjustments. We’ll make your appointments for several fittings and get started on Monday morning.”