row, hitting the target in five fatal areas.
Much better. Now he could go get ready for his date.
T HE THRIFT SHOP at the community center downtown was her only hope. She had nothing to wear to a place like the Isle, and even in thrift-shop terms she wasn’t planning to spend half her rent and hoped she could make it up before the end of the month. Still, she felt like Cinderella getting ready for the ball as she walked in and went directly toward the rack of formal dresses in the back. She needed something special.
The clerk, a petite, twentysomething woman with short, dark hair looking bored to tears, approached her.
“Can I help you?”
Charlotte grimaced, not seeing anything particularly appropriate on the rack.
“I need a dress for a special event. Something really spectacular.”
The clerk nodded, but eyed the rack with a frown. “It’s coming up on prom season, the dresses are picked over.”
“Do you have anything in the back?”
The young woman looked at her, as if lost in thought, and Charlotte pushed, “I really need a dress and I can’t afford retail. I met a guy, and he’s wonderful, but he invited me to dinner at the Isle, and I don’t have anything—it’s tonight, so I can’t go all over the city looking. Are you sure all the formal dresses are gone?”
“Wow, the Isle? This must be some guy.” The clerk was obviously impressed and Charlotte grinned proudly.
“He is. He’s so-oo-o handsome, I can barely believe he asked me out. I just met him, and I don’t want to show up looking like a ragamuffin, but money is tight.”
“I hear ya, hon. Listen—” she pursed her lips thoughtfully “—there is a dress in the back. You are, what, about a size ten?”
“Depends on the cut, but yeah, in that range.”
“Give me a minute. I think this was an eight, but it was a loose cut, so we can try it.”
Charlotte waited, her anxiety levels rising as the clerk didn’t return, and she wondered what she would do if she couldn’t find a dress. She had some dresses, but nothing formal enough for the Isle. She could cancel, but how would that look?
EJ was like a prince, and that he wanted to take her on a fancy date was like a dream. A once-in-a-lifetime fantasy. She didn’t want to miss it because she had nothing to wear. But she had dog-walking appointments in an hour, and she needed time to get showered and dressed. If this dress didn’t fit, she was sunk.
Just as she was about to crawl out of her skin, the clerk emerged, holding a dress over her arm that left Charlotte speechless.
The clerk smiled, holding it up for inspection, and both women simply stared, glorying in the beautiful garment. The bias-cut gown, black French cotton lace draped over a golden silk charmeuse lining, was perfect. The cut was simple, but the effect of the design was exquisite. Charlotte reached out to touch it, almost afraid to.
“It’s from some vintage designer. The owner of the shop told me, but I can’t recall—Imelda? Isadora? I can never remember those names.” She flipped the tag inside and smiled. “Isadora. Sharon, the owner, says it sells retail for over a thousand dollars! She wants to auction it on eBay, but the woman who left it specifically said she just wanted someone to have it who couldn’t otherwise afford it so—”
The clerk lowered her voice, and looked from side to side before speaking again. “You seem nice, and going to the Isle is a big deal. If you want to take it just for your dinner and drop it back later, Sharon is out oftown. She won’t even notice if the dress is gone for one night. Just don’t, you know, drop ketchup on it or anything. If the Isle even uses ketchup.” The girl smiled, holding out her hand. “I’m Phoebe, by the way.”
Charlotte was stunned and immediately shook her head.
“Hi, Phoebe. I’m Charlotte. You are really so generous, but I couldn’t do that. It doesn’t seem right. Whatever I get, I should pay for.”
“Well, okay.
Much better. Now he could go get ready for his date.
T HE THRIFT SHOP at the community center downtown was her only hope. She had nothing to wear to a place like the Isle, and even in thrift-shop terms she wasn’t planning to spend half her rent and hoped she could make it up before the end of the month. Still, she felt like Cinderella getting ready for the ball as she walked in and went directly toward the rack of formal dresses in the back. She needed something special.
The clerk, a petite, twentysomething woman with short, dark hair looking bored to tears, approached her.
“Can I help you?”
Charlotte grimaced, not seeing anything particularly appropriate on the rack.
“I need a dress for a special event. Something really spectacular.”
The clerk nodded, but eyed the rack with a frown. “It’s coming up on prom season, the dresses are picked over.”
“Do you have anything in the back?”
The young woman looked at her, as if lost in thought, and Charlotte pushed, “I really need a dress and I can’t afford retail. I met a guy, and he’s wonderful, but he invited me to dinner at the Isle, and I don’t have anything—it’s tonight, so I can’t go all over the city looking. Are you sure all the formal dresses are gone?”
“Wow, the Isle? This must be some guy.” The clerk was obviously impressed and Charlotte grinned proudly.
“He is. He’s so-oo-o handsome, I can barely believe he asked me out. I just met him, and I don’t want to show up looking like a ragamuffin, but money is tight.”
“I hear ya, hon. Listen—” she pursed her lips thoughtfully “—there is a dress in the back. You are, what, about a size ten?”
“Depends on the cut, but yeah, in that range.”
“Give me a minute. I think this was an eight, but it was a loose cut, so we can try it.”
Charlotte waited, her anxiety levels rising as the clerk didn’t return, and she wondered what she would do if she couldn’t find a dress. She had some dresses, but nothing formal enough for the Isle. She could cancel, but how would that look?
EJ was like a prince, and that he wanted to take her on a fancy date was like a dream. A once-in-a-lifetime fantasy. She didn’t want to miss it because she had nothing to wear. But she had dog-walking appointments in an hour, and she needed time to get showered and dressed. If this dress didn’t fit, she was sunk.
Just as she was about to crawl out of her skin, the clerk emerged, holding a dress over her arm that left Charlotte speechless.
The clerk smiled, holding it up for inspection, and both women simply stared, glorying in the beautiful garment. The bias-cut gown, black French cotton lace draped over a golden silk charmeuse lining, was perfect. The cut was simple, but the effect of the design was exquisite. Charlotte reached out to touch it, almost afraid to.
“It’s from some vintage designer. The owner of the shop told me, but I can’t recall—Imelda? Isadora? I can never remember those names.” She flipped the tag inside and smiled. “Isadora. Sharon, the owner, says it sells retail for over a thousand dollars! She wants to auction it on eBay, but the woman who left it specifically said she just wanted someone to have it who couldn’t otherwise afford it so—”
The clerk lowered her voice, and looked from side to side before speaking again. “You seem nice, and going to the Isle is a big deal. If you want to take it just for your dinner and drop it back later, Sharon is out oftown. She won’t even notice if the dress is gone for one night. Just don’t, you know, drop ketchup on it or anything. If the Isle even uses ketchup.” The girl smiled, holding out her hand. “I’m Phoebe, by the way.”
Charlotte was stunned and immediately shook her head.
“Hi, Phoebe. I’m Charlotte. You are really so generous, but I couldn’t do that. It doesn’t seem right. Whatever I get, I should pay for.”
“Well, okay.
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