Boo Who Read Free

stopped in midsniffle. “Clearance, you say?”
    The woman smiled for the first time since Melb had stepped into her uppity little dress shop. “Seventy-five percent off.”
    Melb was trying to do the numbers in her head, but couldn’t quite carry the one and remember where to add the zero.
    “How does $750 sound?” the woman asked.
    “I’ll take it!” she exclaimed, squeezing the dress with all her might. Every part of this dress was puffy, from the sleeves to the waist to the bow on the back.
    The woman nodded. “That dress must’ve been waiting for just the right customer.”
    “Really? Why do you say that?”
    “We’ve had it in the store since 1989.”
    “Well your
mama
has
arrived!”
Melb shouted, and then did a little dance like those she’d seen Pentecostals do. She’d always wanted to dance in church like that and shout to the Lord. But instead she was raised to believe that dancing was bad and that complete silence in church was preferred over shouting.
    “And here’s the veil,” she said, handing Melb a headband. Melb put it on and looked into the mirror.
    Her first impression was that she looked an awful lot like John McEnroe in his early tennis days when sweatbands were all the rage. But then her eyes caught the tulle flowing down her back like the hair of Rapunzel. She was a princess.
    “Perfect.”
    The woman said, “Let me show you the dressing room where you can try it on.”
    “No need. Destiny brought this dress to me.”
    “But … it’s a size ten.”
    “I’m going to shed a few pounds before the wedding, don’t worry.”
    “But—”
    “And I know these kinds of dresses always run big anyway,” Melb said with a wink. The woman didn’t wink back.
    “But—”
    “And I’ve got a girdle.”
    The woman said nothing more, but by the somber expression on her face, she knew the woman had her doubts. Yet Melb had no doubts whatsoever. After all, the dress had been waiting for her since 1989.
    The woman cordially handed her the receipt and asked, “When is your wedding?”
    “Valentines Day. Isn’t that just perfect?”
    “Best wishes.” The saleswoman handed her a sleek gray dress bag and nodded in dismissal.
    Melb swung the dress over her shoulder and sauntered out of the store with unspeakable joy, practically prancing with each step. The perfect dress.
    And only $550 over budget. Oliver would understand.

CHAPTER 3
    “O RDER! O RDER , P EOPLE !”
    A dozen people stood in the community center, shivering beneath their coats because nobody knew how to turn the heat on. They now glanced in the speakers direction as if they had just noticed she was behind the podium.
    “Come now, we don’t have rabies. Let’s scoot together a little bit.”
    The small crowd glanced at one another and scooted a few chairs inward, still looking sparse among all the shiny silver chairs that lined the community center conference room in perfectly neat rows.
    Missy Peeple would not allow herself to feel it, but inside she knew disappointment threatened like a bad case of heartburn. This was by far the smallest crowd ever to attend a meeting she called. No thanks to the Thanksgiving Scandal, as it was now known, she’d lost credibility within the town that she’d loved so much. When she passed townspeople on the street, they scowled at her now instead of nodding with the respect to which she had been accustomed.
    Still, she would not be deterred. She had a vision for this town. She knew it would work. In fact, she’d bet her whole life savings on it just a little over two weeks ago. It had cost her nearly everything she owned, but she knew it would work. It had to.
    The glum faces that stared back at her needed inspiration, and she was here to give it to them. She made herself stand tall, pushing her back straight as she held onto her cane.
    “I’ve called this meeting today,” she began, “to give you hope. As I’m sure all of you have noticed, our town has changed. Thanks to