Page 36 of The Second Chance Cinema
Yet again, Melinda had spoken her language.
Behind the safety of a heavy violet curtain, Ellie stepped into the dress. The fabric hugged her hips, smoothing itself against all the right places on her curves as she draped the elegant straps over her shoulders and straightened her posture. The front hem was tapered shorter, which she hadn’t noticed on the rack; it lifted so the crystal heels she’d already bought would always look like they were making an entrance. This silhouette had been made for her, she believed, crafted with her measurements and mischief in mind. But surely, buying a wedding dress from Drake’s ex was some kind of bad omen. The dress would heckle them from inside the closet. Eventually, after years of wedded bliss, Drake would demand to know where the dress had come from because it had always felt familiar. Ellie would resent that familiarity, that he would still be able to feel Melinda’s presence in the room.
“Let’s see it!” Melinda called out. Her voice was right on the other side of the curtain.
Ellie stepped out of the changing room and turned her back to Melinda, who finished pulling up the zipper. “I loved it on the hanger, but wow,” she said. “It came to life on you.” Together, they moved to a full-length mirror near the cash register. Ellie took herself in, admiring the legacy of this dress and all the contenders that sighed behind her, waiting to be wooed. “We can do any alterations you want, but it already fits really well.”
“I don’t know,” Ellie said, even though she very much did know.
Melinda’s eyes had landed on something. It was Ellie’s ring. She reached out and pulled her hand toward the light streaming through the window to get a better look. “It’s … gorgeous on you,” she said, taking a long time with the stone, as if seeing the ring put something into perspective for her. “He’s lucky.” Melinda dropped her hand and slid some black heels onto Ellie’s feet. “And I love the story behind it.”
“The ring?”
“The dress,” Melinda told her. “It belonged to a stage actress.” She shortened the back straps a little without Ellie’s asking. “Apparently, she wore it the night she was about to give up acting. A producer spotted her in a horse-drawn carriage, hunted her down, and the next day, she had an offer to act in a production ofHarvey.”
“I’ll take it,” Ellie said, outside of herself. Drake had wanted her to be more involved in the wedding. Ellie could make the argument that buying a dress was very much a form of involvement.
As Melinda rang the dress up, Ellie was trying to ignore something she’d pieced together in her time there. The store wasn’t doing well. Melinda brought this up directly as she pulled out a gray dress bag and tucked the hanger through the slot. The right people had never found her. Recently, she’d gone from selling dresses and antiques to specializing in dresses, but having a focus didn’t help, either. “No one from the city wants to drive an hour and a half to a dress shop their mom told them about.”
“Well, don’t worry,” Ellie said. “I found this one myself. My mom isn’t in my life much.” Guilt immediately wrapped itself around her. Melinda’s mom wasn’t around at all, and it had been insensitive to phrase it that way. Just the night before, she had seen Melinda talk about her grief. Ellie had witnessed parts of this woman’s life that weren’t meant to be shared with everyone. Especially her. “I just mean, we’re not close,” she clarified.
Melinda fiddled with the register, then looked up at her in a direct plea. “Tell me, Ellie. How do I find more women like you?”
No, Ellie reminded herself. She couldn’t.
But maybe—probably not, but maybe—Drake would want her to help someone he’d once cared about.
She willed Melinda to wrap things up faster, making it her personal mission to exit the store without saying what she was thinking. Finally, the dress was walked out from behind the counter and placed in her arms. She was seconds from the door.
“Oops,” Melinda said, grabbing a lavender-hued scroll of paperfrom the front desk. “I almost let you leave without your note! These things keep falling off the hangers.” She motioned for Ellie to open her palm and dropped the paper into her hand like a rare treasure.
“What is this?” Ellie asked.
“My mom had this special tradition,” Melinda revealed, settling right into intimacy so naturally. “Everything she sold came with a note. When someone brought a piece in, she’d ask them to write a few words for the new owner. It was always thoughtful, always on this purple paper. Now, I hunt down the dresses in here myself most of the time, which means I write most of the notes. They’re just simple little things.”
Ellie attempted an easygoing “awesome,” even though the inside of her mouth had turned into sandpaper. She had found this exact style of note, written on lavender paper, inside the music box Drake had given her—the one that was now perched on a shelf in their living room.Find someone who makes you dance, the note had read.
Melinda had danced with Drake at the school dance and in her shop.
Drake had shopped for Ellie in Melinda’s store.
The choice would’ve made sense if he was on great terms with her. But he never mentioned Melinda before the cinema, and when she made an appearance, he pretended she was no one special. He changed the subject. He got cagey.
Drake was hiding more than she had realized. The purple note held a match to Ellie’s curiosity. Still, it was too late—and too odd—to bring up Drake now, out of the blue. She would need more time with Melinda to learn her side of things.
Find something you’re obsessed with, Nolan had said. Maybe this was the story she needed.
“What you mentioned earlier,” Ellie started, “about finding women like me. I can help you with that.”
“Really?” Melinda asked.
“Yeah.” Ellie did her humble elevator pitch about work. She called her book a coffee-table book. She referred to the show as a documentary. “So anyway, I’d love to interview you and learn all about the store. No rush. Whenever you have time.”
“How about now?” Melinda said, tugging out a leather armchair like she’d been prepared for this chance encounter.
Ellie was still far from home, but Drake would be gone all afternoon.
“Great,” Ellie said, succumbing to the armchair. She reached for the notebook she kept in her bag and began to scribble down every word of Melinda’s story as it spilled out.
