For those who are new, The Butterfly Dress is a story about Flora, a girl trapped in dismal job as a seamstress and dressmaker to her cruel mother. Although she dreams of designing gowns in New York or Paris, she is forced to settle for creating prom dresses for local girls while attending class at the local college. When she receives the chance to design the Coronation Queen’s gown for a local ball, magical things begin to happen. As she dives deeper into the ball’s mysterious past and its handsome prince, it’s a pair of shoes that might lead her to her final destiny.

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Stepping back, Flora covered her mouth with her hands.  She looked at Nate, her fingers white with the strain of holding back.

“Go on.”  Nate threw the sheet on the ground, the skin crinkling around his blue eyes.  “You know you want to.”

Bursting into raucous giggles, Flora’s hands flew off her face, holding her heaving sides.  She grabbed onto a trellis for support, laughter rolling from her lips.  “I’m sorry,” she gasped, giggles bubbling in her throat.  “I’m sorry, but that’s the most…”

“Ridiculous?”  Nate cocked his head, pursuing his lips and bugging out his eyes to mimic the stone statue inches from his head.  He posed, throwing back his head and puffing out his chest.  Flora lost every shred of resolve, collapsing into shrieking snickers.  “Ludicrous?  Ostentatious?”  Nate hiked up one leg on the bench, balling his fists on his hips and raising his chin.  His face composed into a look of regal toleration, save for his twitching cheeks and lips.  Flora collapsed onto the ground, wheezing.

“I’m sorry,” she panted, rolling onto her side.  She gulped down air, shaking her head.  “It’s just that statue…”

“Looks nothing like me, I hope.”  Nate’s eyes bugged out in horror, stirring the giggles within her again.  “This is my grandmother’s idea.”  He shook his head.  “There’s one of each of her children and grandchildren scattered throughout the garden.  And most are just as terrible, I’m afraid.  A few are worse.”

Brushing off her skirt, Flora climbed to her feet, dark earth clinging to her fingers.  “Is this your way of trying to make you feel like you had nothing to feel sorry for?”

Nate picked up the sheet, sliding it over his stone likeness.  “It’s my way of letting you know we all have challenges and insecurities.  For instance, I feel like I’ll never be as good as my grandfather.  And this statue is a permanent reminder of that insecurity.”  Pulling the sheet tight, he turned to Flora.  “Now, tell me.  What dress are we looking for?”

Flora paused, biting her lip.  “To be honest, I’m not sure.”  She squirmed, ducking her head.

“What do you mean?”  Nate edged away from the statue, stepping towards a gently burbling fountain housing several arrogant koi fish.  Flora looked down at the bright orange fish, watching as they gently circled the fountain.

“Well, have you ever heard rumors of a butterfly dress?”  Flora plucked at her skirt, wishing she had her sewing apron.

“Sure.  That’s what you’re making for Astrid, right?”  Nate rolled his eyes at Flora’s surprised expression.  “She’s been telling everyone in town.  Including me.”

“Really?”  Flora’s teeth dug harder into her lip, her stomach clenching.  Now she really had to see her grandmother’s butterfly dress.  She bent down, plucking a tiny blue flower and tucking it behind her ear.   “See, my grandmother made a butterfly dress for one of your grandmother’s Cornoations.  Apparantly, it was gorgeous.  But no one will tell me who wore it, or where it is.  And I’ve seen the sketches, but…”

“But you want to see it so you can create a better one for Astrid,” Nate finished.

Flora shook her head.  “I could never create a better one.  My only hope is to create one that won’t embarass her original one.”

Nate reached forward, plucking the flower from her hair.  She shrank back, her stomach fluttering as his fingers brushed across her cheek.  Placing the flower in his front button hole, Nate twirled the tiny stem, the blue petals spinning.  “Why are you so hard on yourself, Flora?  Why do you underestimate yourself?”

Flora glanced down, staring at her clown-like shoes.  As long as she focused on the scuffed brown leather, the thick laces, she could pretend everything was the same.  She could pretend she wasn’t standing here with Nate Nottingham, her flower in his buttonhole, his blue eyes drinking her in.

The fountain burbled, and the breeze stirred the flowers around her clunky shoes.  Plucking at her skirt, Flora jumped when Nate snapped his fingers.  “I’ve got it.”

“Got what?”  Flora released the folds of her skirt, jerking her head up.

“I know where your grandmother’s dress is.  Or isn’t.”

“Isn’t?” Flora echoed, her forehead crinkling.  “I don’t understand.”

Nate’s eyes met hers and she blushed.  “Come on.  I’ll show you.”  Taking her hand, he pulled her across the gardens.  For a second time that night, Flora stumbled after him, every footstep sounding like a herd of Clydesdales trotting across the groomed estates.  Just as Flora wondered if he was taking her to the stables for a bridle and saddle, Nate ducked under a ivy wrapped trellis.  Ducking around a weeping willow and a equally ostentatious statue of a prim woman, he lead her to a small pond flanked by a trio of peach trees.

“This was my grandfather’s favorite spot.”  Nate’s fingers tightened around hers, his voice lowering to a murmur.  “When I was a kid, he took me fishing here.  He loved this place.  He wanted to be buried here, but my grandmother wouldn’t allow it.”  A flicker of pain passed over his face.  Flora patted his arm with her other hand, her teeth digging into her lip.  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her own heart aching.  If there was anything she understood, it was losing a beloved grandparent.

“Anyway, I was always curious about this.”  Stepping to the side, he pulled her along the lush grass, leading her to a small wooden shack tucked behind the trees.  Still clutching her hand, he pulled open the door with his other hand.  Along with clippers, a dusty lawnmower and a broken canoe; a dusty glass container that nearly burst through the ceiling of the shack stood shoved in the corner.  “I always asked him what it was and he told me it was a diving bell.”  Nate’s lips stretched across his cheeks.  “Being a dumb kid, I believed him.”  He glanced at Flora as she pulled her hand from his, reaching toward the glass container.  It was the same as the others scattered through out the garden, except for it’s empty center.  Running her fingers over the dusty surface, she gnawed her lip.

“This is it,” she whispered.  “This is the one that held the butterfly dress.  It has to be.”

Suddenly, a harsh shout made them  both jump. “What are you doing here?”

Guess what, Invisible Friends?

The fabulous folks at Shabby Apple, the most adorable boutique I’ve seen, have agreed to send one lucky Invisible Friend of the Pond a gorgeous dress that even Flora would drool over!  The Shabby Apple Women’s Dress giveaway is only open to US residents, unfortunately.  And if you visit Shabby Apple on Facebook and “like them,” tell me about it, you get an extra chance to win!  So hop over to Shabby Apple and check out their gorgeous dresses.  I know I’ve already spent all my Christmas money…and then some.

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!  We have a week of whimsical fun coming up!

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