Page 29 of At Your Service
“I can understand that,” Marva added. She’d risen from the couch and was now standing next to Nina, lifting the tulle out so that it flared even more from her waist down.
“But this is a classic look. It’s formfitting but gives the illusion of being natural,” Riley added when she joined her mother, standing on the opposite side of Nina.
“And it’s so sexy. There’s just a hint of innocence in that it covers her completely, but that punch of desire as it hugs her natural curves,” Lila added.
“I agree,” Marva said. “I love how each of the gowns complements a diverse body type. That’s one thing this line does very well.”
Riley, who wasn’t nearly as curvy as Nina, stood back, one arm across her chest, a hand to her chin while she continued to survey Nina. “Definitely something we were aiming for,” she said. “But I can see what she’s saying. If I wore this, Dad would have solid opinions about the almost sheerness.”
Marva chuckled. “You’re right about that. Fathers can be very particular about their girls.”
“Too particular,” Riley quipped.
“You can say that again,” Nina added.
“Okay, let’s try another one,” Lila prompted.
The photographers had snapped photos of the two Gold women standing with her, adjusting and commenting on the gown. In her mind, Nina could visualize how it would look in print. Normal. Sentimental. A slice of time a woman and her family would remember for the rest of their lives. A pang of unexpected sadness hit her.
They went to the next dress and the next, repeating the process until deciding on a gown that evening. While Nina’s personal favorite had been a wine-colored tulle over an ivory fitted bodice and A-line skirt, they’d collectively chosen the classic white trumpet dress with bias-cut organza tiers and rosettes that Garen called romantic.
“I’m exhausted,” Nina said when she returned to the living room once again, this time back in her comfortable sweats as she dropped down onto the cushioned chair across from the couch.
“We should grab some dinner,” Riley suggested.
“Oh no, I have to get back home,” Marva said. “Your father and I have an engagement this evening.”
Riley nodded. “That’s right, the Rutherford Gala is tonight.”
“Yes. You and your brothers should be there, as well. You know your father likes to present a united front at these gatherings,” Marva said as she reached for her purse.
“The Rutherfords are old friends of yours and Dad’s. They have nothing to do with us or the company, so we figured we could skip.”
“Yes.” Marva nodded. “The four of you like to team up whenever possible.”
The words weren’t spoken with any sting, just a mother’s love for her children.
Riley stood with her mother and hugged her. “But we still love you lots,” she said with a huge smile just before kissing Marva’s cheek.
The sadness that had punched Nina in the gut earlier this afternoon now draped her body like a horrific plague. Lynn Fuller had left her family seventeen years ago, so why did it feel like it was only yesterday?
Nina was just standing when Marva came over and pulled her in for a hug.
“You look tired and we’ve monopolized your entire day. We’ll get out of your hair now so you can get some rest.”
Nina had been thinking of doing that and probably squeezing some work in while she ate something quick, like a chicken salad sandwich, in bed. Now, however, a hot bath and burying herself beneath the covers for the next few hours seemed like a better plan.
“Thank you,” Nina said without mentioning how good that brief hug felt.
“We’re going to have a girls’ night soon before we get too crazy with planning and appearances.” This time it was Riley who stepped up to pull Nina into a hug.
How did these women know exactly what she needed right now?
“But you’ll join us tomorrow for Sunday dinner,” Marva said and turned to walk toward the door.
“Oh yes. That’s a good idea, Mom.” Riley had picked up her purse and was now walking behind her mother.
Nina followed them, not sure what was happening. She’d been here for two weeks and hadn’t attended any private family gatherings. “Ah, tomorrow? Dinner?”
