Page 105 of Dropping the Ball

“Nailed it. Me next,” Madison says.

Aleina fetches the final dress. When she turns and walks toward us, our jaws drop. It is a fuchsia cloud, hard to take in all at once beyond the hundreds of layers of tulle. I don’t have a sense of the shape or anything else because of the sheer volume of intense pink.

“It will require some fluffing,” Aleina says, causing Madison’s eyes to widen. “I had to twist this and bring it in a vacuum-shrink tube?” She says this as if she isn’t sure her explanation is making sense. We both nod. “This is what Maheen is most interested in. Your feelings about it.”

“I’ll be honest, Aleina,” Madison says, her eyes sparkling, “I’m not entirely sure what I’m looking at, but I love it anyway. Can I try it on?”

“You may need some help with this one,” Aleina says, “if you do not mind if I assist?”

“Come on, friend. Let’s do this,” Madison says.

She disappears behind the screen while Mom and I entertain Harper. A few minutes later, Madison steps out and Isa squeals then claps her hand over her mouth, but she only said what we’re all feeling.

It’s what the dress deserves. Madison hurries to the stool in front of the three-way mirror, turns one way then the other, and grins. “Nailed it again.”

“Not in a million years would I have thought I would like this, but it’s perfect, honey,” Mom says.

“I agree. Perfection,” I say.

The dress falls to her knees in the front and to the floor in the back. It’s made of so many layers of tulle that it’s opaque, but the netting is so light that it floats around her in tiers. The haltered bodice plunges nearly to Madison’s navel, showing off her nursing-maximized cleavage to advantage by emphasizing her shape, but the only skin showing is the one-inch strip all the way down until the skirt begins.

“Maheen wanted to give you something generous that would adjust to any figure concerns you had after recovering from birth, but—”

“Your body is rocking,” Isa pronounces.

“Thank you,” Madison says. “I’m told it’s a first-baby thing, and I might get away with it one more time, but luck runs out on baby three.”

“Amen,” Miss Lidia says with a smile.

“The tulle is meant to hide”—Aleina gestures toward her lower abdomen—“and we can close the plunge higher if you prefer.”

“No!” five other women say at once.

Madison starts laughing. “It’s very loose, but beyond that, I don’t want to change a thing.”

Maheen designed for each of us so differently and so brilliantly. “Maheen may be your greatest discovery ever, Madison.”

“And I believe Miss Lidia may be yours,” Madison says.

“I’ll second that,” Mom adds.

“This one is going to take a few fittings,” Aleina says. “If at all possible, Maheen would like to handle this one herself. If not, she is very confident to let Mrs. Perez do it.”

“Well, you’ve solved the missing designer problem perfectly,” Madison says. She steps down from the stool to stand in front of me. “It makes me even more curious to hear what you’re planning for the auction.”

“Then get changed, slacker,” I tell her. “You’re holding up the next part of the field trip.”

My phone vibrates as we’re walking to Madison’s car.

Why do I see your car at the warehouse but not you?

We’ll be there soon.

“We’re going to drive around a couple of blocks,” I tell Madison when we’re settled in the car. “I want to show you some things.”

And for the next fifteen minutes, I take them on a tour of the homes where all the talented people Micah knows live, making Madison idle in front of different houses as I lean between their seats to show them pictures on my phone of what the occupant of the house makes. Mrs. Horne’s weaving. Jeremy’s furniture. They gasp out loud when I show them Mr. Nairz’s cookies.

When we reach the storage units by the neighborhood exit, I have Madison park so we can talk.

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