Web of Dreams (Casteel 5)

With little enthusiasm, I started to undress. I put on a special strapless bra and then slipped into the dress. It fit snugly around my waist, but every time I reached back to pull up the zipper, the bodice fell forward. It was a very awkward thing to do alone. Frustrated, I slipped into the matching shoes and started out, intending to go into Momma's suite and have her help me, but when I walked out of my bedroom, I walked right into Tony. He had put on his tie, cufflinks and cummerbund, but not his tuxedo jacket. I stepped back with surprise and clung to the front of my bodice.

"Sorry to startle you, but your mother asked me to check on how you were getting along."

For a moment I couldn't reply; my breath had caught in my throat. How long had he been right by my bedroom doorway? Could he have come back and seen me gazing at myself? And why had Momma sent him? She hadn't ever sent Daddy to do such a thing.

"1 . . . I'm just on my way to her suite to have her help me zip up my dress," I said and started away.

"Let me help you do that. That's why you beautiful women keep us men around . . . just for such chores." He put his hands on my shoulders to stop me from walking around him. I nearly gasped and felt a surge of heat climb into my neck. If he could see my embarrassment, he ignored it and turned me around. "Now let me see . . . oh, this is easy."

He pulled the zipper up slowly, taking great care not to pinch my skin, and when he had it up all the way, he planted a quick kiss on the top of my head.

"Done," he announced. "Anything else you need help with?"

"No," I said quickly, so quickly it brought a wide smile to his face and laughter to his eyes. I allowed my eyes to meet his briefly before they fled again to gaze down at the floor. "I've got to fix my hair," I said and retreated to my bedroom. I sat down at the dressing table to catch my breath. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I saw I was still clinging to the top of my bodice, even though I had no need to. I let go and looked back at the doorway, half expecting him to be there.

But he was gone.

My mind went chasing my feelings. There were so many different ones to try to understand. I hated the way he spoke, trying to sound like a father, and I cringed at his kissing me on my head like Daddy would, but I had to admit to myself that when his fingers touched my shoulders and when his Ups grazed my hair, I felt a pleasing tingle through my body.

And his eyes! When he shifted them to mine, the blue in his had brightened as if he could see the tingle I had felt. Oh, I had to be careful with a man as sophisticated as Tony, I thought. I should think more about what my eyes might reveal. After all, he was the man who had won Momma's heart, the heart of a woman so beautiful most any man would give his right arm for it. I was no match for a man with such power.

And yet his soft blue eyes and handsome face lingered before me, pleading for understanding and love, being me to consider him my new daddy. How could I ever think of someone that young as a daddy, and when he finds out how old Momma really is, he will feel foolish himself, I thought.

Life that had once been as simple and pleasing as a child's storybook tale was now so complicated and hard. I hated it here, hated it! I hated being in this dress preparing for this rehearsal, hated the idea that I would be a bridesmaid in my own mother's wedding, hated this house and the servants and the grounds and . . .

"Hi. Are you ready?"

My building rage was interrupted. I turned to see little Troy in his tuxedo and tiny black tie, his hair brushed neatly, standing in my bedroom doorway. He wore a gold pinky ring on his left hand and he looked like a miniature version of his handsome and elegant big brother. All my fury wilted.

"Almost," I said.

"Tony says we can get back into our 'good' clothes as soon as the rehearsal's over," Troy told me eagerly. I laughed at the way he widened his eyes and nodded his head.

"Good clothes?"

"I have to be very careful when I'm dressed like this, careful about what I touch and where I go," he recited. He scrunched up his nose to indicate how much he hated it. He was so cute, I wanted to hug him to me like one of my teddy bears.

"Right. I can't wait to get back into my 'good' clothes, too." I stood up, took one last look at myself in the mirror, and then started out. He gave me his hand and we went downstairs to begin the rehearsal.

Throughout the entire rehearsal, I felt as if I were moving through a dream. Surrounded by all these strangers, watching Momma and Tony playact their upcoming ceremony, I couldn't help looking around every once in a while, searching for Daddy, half expecting him to come charging through the great front doors. I permitted my imagination to take over. In my dream, the music stopped and everyone turned Daddy's way.

"Jillian," he screamed. "You can't do this. And you," he said, turning to Tony, "you must end this spell you have thrown over my wife." In my daydream, Daddy looked bigger and more powerful than ever. He held his arm out and pointed accusingly at Tony, who backed away in awe of such strength. Suddenly, Momma's eyes blinked. She looked from Daddy to Tony and back to Daddy.

"Cleave? Oh Cleave, Cleave, thank God you've come. I don't know what came over me. I don't know what I'm doing here."

She ran to his arms and I ran after her. Then Daddy put his arm around me, too, and the three of us walked out of this castle and were on our way home, safe and sound forever and ever.

My reverie ended, burst like a bubble, when little Troy tugged demandingly on my hand. I was standing behind the other bridesmaids. We had come down the stairway in front of Momma and taken our positions while the minister reviewed the ceremony. Now all that had apparently come to an end and Troy was reminding me of my earlier promise to go out with

him.

"Come back in about an hour for lunch," Tony said.

The two of them went off to Tony's office. I went to change and was barely dressed when Troy came charging in again, all bundled up and ready to go out in the snow.

"Will you need me to come along, too?" Mrs. Hastings asked, the answer she hoped for written all over her face.

"No, Mrs. Hastings. We'll be fine," I replied. She looked as if I had given her a reprieve from ten years at hard labor. Little boys had to be a handful, I thought, laughing to myself. I put on my coat and gloves and took Troy's hand. We went down the stairs and out to his snowman.