Mrs. Patterson, I wont hand that dress over! Its mine! Kates voice cracked into a whine.
Kate, we agreed Poppys been dreaming about it for months, Mrs. Patterson waved her hands helplessly, unsure how to persuade her daughterinlaw.
There was never any agreement! Its a family heirloom, and Ive kept it for my own child! Kate paced the room, snatching up anything she could and slamming it back down with a clatter.
Emily sat quietly in the corner, watching the drama unfold. The elder sister of the father and the grandmother were at each other again. Kate was always hottempered and decisive, but today something seemed to have switched off. Usually she kept her cool, especially around Emily, but now the dress had ignited a fullblown storm.
Kate, please stop, Simon, Emilys father, put a hand on his sisters shoulder, but she brushed it away sharply.
Dont lecture me! Youve always been Mums boy! she snapped. And this dress belonged to my motherinlaw, Michaels mother! I alone decide who gets it!
But Michaels mother wanted every bride in the family to wear it, Mrs. Patterson whispered. She told me so before she passed.
She meant real brides! Kate emphasized the word with a cold bite. Not girls like your Poppy, whos been engaged three times and never made it work. Maybe thats a sign.
A heavy silence fell. Mrs. Patterson went pale, Simon frowned, and Emily sank deeper into the armchair, hoping to become invisible. She barely breathed, not wanting to draw attention. At fifteen she already knew that family feuds were best avoided, especially when a greatgrandmothers wedding dress was at stake.
How can you say that? Mrs. Pattersons voice trembled. Poppy is your niece!
And what of it? Shes a niece, not a daughter! Kate waved her hands. I do have a real daughter, you know. Im keeping the dress for her!
Your Molly is only twelve! Simon retorted. And Poppys wedding is a month away!
Thats fine, she can buy another dress. There are hundreds of them in every bridal shop these days!
Emily knew the dress was a genuine relic. Handstitched lace, tiny pearls embroidered along the bodice, it rested in a special case at Kates house. Shed only seen it once when the whole family had been sorting through old photographs. In the pictures greatgrandmother Eleanor looked like a storybook princesstall, slender, her delicate shoulders accentuated by the dresss graceful cut.
You know its not just a piece of cloth, Mrs. Patterson said softly. Eleanor wanted it to bring happiness to every bride in our line. She wore it herself in 45 when James came home from the war.
I know all that! Kate cut in. Which is why Im keeping it for Molly. By the time Poppy has her third wedding, the dress will be too worn; the fabric is thinning.
Poppy will treat it with care, Mrs. Patterson pleaded, her eyes on Kate. Shell even find a tailor who can adjust it without damage.
No! Thats the end of that discussion! Kate declared, marching to the door, only to be stopped by Simon.
Wait, he said calmly but firmly. Lets talk this through without shouting. Please, have a seat.
Ive nothing to discuss with you! Kate tried to sidestep him, but he held his ground.
Kate, you know Mums right. Eleanor wanted the dress to pass from bride to bride. That was her wish.
My wish is to keep it for my daughter! Kate crossed her arms. Why does everyone keep attacking me? The dress is in my care, so I decide who gets it!
Emily rose slowly and slipped toward the exit. The adult arguments always left her exhausted, but before she could take three steps, Aunt Kate called:
Emily! Tell me, girl, would you like to wear this dress when you get married?
All eyes turned to her. Emily froze, unsure what to answer. She didnt want to be dragged into the dispute.
I I dont know, Aunt Kate, she said cautiously. I havent even thought about marriage yet.
See? Kate crowed. Even Emily doesnt want the dress! Why force Poppy to wear it?
Kate, stop pulling the child into our argument, Simon sighed. Emily, please go back to your room.
Grateful for the chance to escape, Emily hurried out, but on her way to her bedroom she heard the voices rise again. She shut her door, flopped onto the bed, and pressed a pillow over her ears, though the muffled shouting still seeped through.
Days passed, and a tense calm settled over the house. Aunt Kate stopped coming over, Mrs. Pattersons eyes were rimmed with red, and Simon spent most of his time at work. Emily tried to ignore the heavy atmosphere, but it gnawed at her.
On Saturday morning, while Emily was having breakfast, the phone rang. Her grandmother answered, and Emily recognized her mothers voice on the other end Poppy.
Hey, love No, not yet I understand, dear Maybe we should look for another dress? I know, I know The conversation trailed off.
Mrs. Patterson slumped into the chair beside her granddaughter.
Everything alright, dear? Emily asked gently.
Just that Poppys upset about the dress, the old woman said with a sad smile. Shes worried its vital to her.
Why is it so important to her?
Mrs. Patterson stared out the window before answering. Your greatgrandmother Eleanor lived through war, famine, loss. Yet she kept a fierce love that seemed to radiate to everyone around her. That dress absorbed a sliver of that love. She wore it when she married your greatgrandfather James after the war, then your mother Sarah wore it, and so on. Each bride found happiness.
What about Aunt Kate? Emily asked.
And she too, until after Michael died she shut herself off. This dress is the only thing she clings to now, the grandmother whispered. Shes protective of it.
Emily nodded, though she didnt fully grasp the obsession.
So why did Aunt Kate say Poppy isnt a real bride?
Poppys had a rough goofthatlife, Mrs. Patterson sighed. Two broken engagements, now a third attempt. She finally met David, and they truly love each other. She believes the dress will bring her luck.
Why not make a new dress similar to Eleanors? Emily suggested. Maybe that would be lucky too?
Oh, Emily, the old woman murmured. Its not the cloth; its the tradition, the link to our past. Its like a thread that ties all the women together.
At that moment Simon entered the kitchen, looking tired but resolute.
Ive just spoken with Kate on the phone, he said. Shes firm. She wont part with the dress, no matter what.
Simon, Mrs. Patterson sighed, what are we to do? Poppys wedding is less than a month away.
I think we should respect Kates decision, Simon replied. After all, the dress is in her hands, and she has the right to decide.
But its unfair! Mrs. Patterson protested. Eleanor wanted every bride to have it.
Mother, I know, Simon interrupted gently, but we cant force Kate. That would only widen the rift.
Emily listened in silence, stirring her tea. Suddenly an idea struck her.
Dad, Grandma, what if I talk to Aunt Kate? Maybe shell listen to me.
Simon and his mother exchanged a glance.
No, love, thats an adult matter, Simon shook his head. You shouldnt get involved.
But Im part of the family, Emily insisted. Aunt Kate has always been kind to me. Maybe I can persuade her.
Im not sure, Mrs. Patterson mused. She does love you, but its a delicate situation.
Please, Emily pleaded. Ill just try. If it doesnt work, I wont push any further.
After a long discussion, Simon reluctantly agreed to drive Emily to Kates on Sunday. She spent the ride rehearsing what she would say, her plan vague but hopeful.
Kate lived in an old cottage on the outskirts of town. It had once belonged to Eleanor, the woman whose dress now sparked the feud. After her husband died, Kate had stayed there with her daughter Molly.
Are you sure you want to go alone? Simon asked as they pulled up to the gate.
Yes, Dad, Emily said. Itll be better if Kate thinks I came of my own accord.
Alright, Simon sighed. Ill wait here. Call if you need anything.
Emily stepped out, heart hammering, hands a little shaky. She knocked, and after a moment, Kate opened the door.
Emily? What are you doing here? Kate asked, surprised.
Hi, Aunt Kate, Emily said, forcing a smile. May I come in?
Sure, come in, Kate replied, stepping aside. Youre probably here to ask for the dress, arent you?
I just wanted to talk, Emily said, moving toward the kitchen. And maybe see Molly. Is she home?
Shes out with a friend, Kate replied, softening a bit. Make yourself comfortable. Ive just baked a cake.
The kitchen smelled of vanilla and apples. Kate set a teapot on the table.
So, just talk? she asked, slicing the cake.
Yes, Emily answered. Ive heard a lot about greatgrandmother Eleanor and the dress. You lived in her house; you must know many stories.
Kates expression softened as she poured tea.
Indeed, she began. When I first met Michaels mother, she took me in like her own. She taught me to bake, to knit, to run a household. Shed tell stories of the war, of waiting for James, of hope in the bleakest times
Emily listened, interjecting occasionally.
And the dress? she asked gently.
Kate lingered, then nodded.
It was a labor of love. Eleanor stitched it from bits of fabric saved during the siege of London. A neighbour brought a scrap of muslin after the bombings, and she worked it into the bodice, adding pearllike stitches with each hope she held for Jamess return. She wore it when she married him, and later my sister Sarah, then my mother, then my own wedding. Each time the dress seemed to fit perfectly, as if it adjusted itself to the wearer.
Why wont you give it to Poppy? Emily asked.
Im keeping it for Molly, Kate said firmly. Shes only twelve, but one day shell need it. The dress cant sit idle for years and deteriorate.
But Mollys wedding is still far off, Emily pointed out. The dress could be cherished by Poppy now, and then return to you later.
Kates jaw tightened. Ive seen Poppys life three broken engagements, now a third attempt. I just dont trust that itll survive.
Isnt the point that the dress brings luck, not that it stays pristine? Emily replied. Eleanor didnt make it to sit in a drawer; she wanted it to be lived in, to bind us together.
Kate fell silent, staring into her cup. After a moment she stood, fetched a large box from the pantry, and set it on the table.
Here it is, she said, lifting the lid. Creamcoloured, high collar, long sleeves, tiny buttons down the back, delicate lace around the collar and cuffs, and the bodice is embroidered with tiny pearls in an intricate pattern.
Emilys breath caught. Its beautiful.
Eleanor was a true craftswoman, Kate said, running a finger over the lace. I wore it at my wedding. Your mother did too. Its been in the family photographs for generations. After your mother, it came back to me, and I promised to keep it for Molly.
What would Eleanor think if she saw this family torn over her dress? Emily whispered.
Kates eyes filled with tears. Shed be sad. She always said family mattered more than any heirloom. No object should break the bonds between us.
Maybe we could let Poppy wear it for her wedding, then she returns it to you, Emily suggested, taking Kates hand. You could still have it for Mollys day.
Kate stared at the fabric, then at Emilys earnest face. After a long pause she sighed.
Alright, she said slowly. Ill let Poppy wear it for the ceremony, but only for the day. She must bring it back afterwards, and Ill help with any alterations myself. No outside tailors.
Thank you, Aunt Kate, Emily said, relief flooding her. Ill make sure she knows how precious it is.
Soon after, Simon saw the box in Kates hands, his eyebrows rising.
Kate? Whats that?
Im lending the dress to Poppy for her wedding, Kate answered, firm. Just for the day, and Ill be there to fit it.
Thank you, Simon said, pulling her into a brief hug. Youve done a great thing.
Poppy and Davids wedding took place at the end of April, a bright, warm day. In Eleanors dress she looked stunning, the fabric hugging her slender frame, catching the sunlight. Kate stood beside her, adjusting each button, smoothing every fold.
Thank you, Kate, Poppy said, eyes shining in the mirror. This dress feels like a piece of history.
Its part of our familys story, Kate replied. Now youre part of it too.
Emily watched, unable to tear her eyes away. The dress seemed to have been made for Poppy, highlighting her delicate figure and giving her an almost ethereal glow. David gazed at his bride as if she were a miracle.
After the ceremony, as promised, the dress returned to Kate. But now it sat not merely as a relic, but as a symbol of the link between generations. Occasionally she would take it out, show it to Molly, and recount the tales of every woman who had worn it.
Will I ever wear it? Molly asked one day.
Whenever youre ready, Kate smiled. Perhaps someone else will need it before then.
Each time Kate looked at the dress, she recalled Emilys words: true value lies not in hoarding objects, but in preserving the connections between people. She silently thanked her niece for that lesson.
And Emily, whenever she glanced at photographs of Poppy in Eleanors dress, wondered whether she might one day slip into it herself. A smile tugged at her lips. In the end, the wedding dress that never reached its first bride brought happiness to another, and perhaps it will continue to do so for many more.
