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.

For previous editions, go here.

If this had been a book or movie, it would have been storming or at least drizzling, with a grey sky that matched her mood.  Instead, Flora rushed home through the sticky fog, the stars twinkling merrily overhead.  She choked on her sobs, gasping for breath and wiping her raw eyes on the sleeve of her dress.  Her feet ached and her fingers throbbed, curled into her palms as her temples thumped in unison.

She barreled down the side cobblestone path, tearing through the bushes and trees so carefully planted by Mr. Grissom.  Blinded by the tears streaming from her eyes, she rushed into the gardens, clomping across the delicate blooms and carefully tended grounds.

The old Flora would have crept carefully, avoiding trampling the irises or kicking clumps of dirt into the koi pond.  The new Flora didn’t give a damn.

Her sewing bag clumped against her leg, the zipper digging into her skin as she raced past the statues of Nate and his sister, turning around the gazebo.  There it was.  The second gown.

Dropping her bag at her feet, she jerked the glass case open.  Though her hands were delicate against the azure silk, her thoughts raced with impatience as she searched.  She ran her fingers over the hem, checked the sleeves and curled her finger around the center of the bodice.  There–dangling on the back of a pendent securing crisp folds running like ribs on each side of the bodice–there was a tiny scrap of paper secured by a minuscule silver butterfly pin.  She unraveled it, squinting in the golden light of the moon.

Spring Azure.  H.N.

Flora stomped her foot.  “Son of a–”

“Hopefully, you’re not looking for me.”

Closing her eyes, Flora tucked the pin and scrap of paper in the front pocket of her dress.  “Oh God.  You’re here.”

“You know, you are the most interesting girl.”  Nate leaned his elbow on top of the glass case, his grin cocky and cute in one curl.  “Most girls are delighted to see me.  You always seem surprised.”

“No offense, but I really need to be alone tonight.”  Her voice wavered, catching on the ragged breaths in her throat.  Bending down, she grabbed her sewing bag.  She closed the class case with a decisive click, not bothering to smile as he made an exaggerated show of jumping back before his sleeve was caught, nearly tumbling into the koi pond.

“But I thought you were supposed to work on my tux and my grandmother’s dress tonight.  Eight, right?  Because you had class?”

Her hollow laugh rang out across the row of oak trees she scurried down.  “That’s all I’m good for. Making dresses for others.”  She turned the corner, sticking her tongue out at a statue of Nate’s grandmother.  “God forbid Flora have a dress of her own, have dreams of her own.”  She snorted.  “Heck, my cottage isn’t really mine.  It’s a hand-me-down, a pity gift from my grandmother.  She must of known I would never escape, just like she never did.”

Nate followed behind her quietly.  As she wrenched open the third glass case, he sat on a stone bench just inches from her.  “Flora, what’s wrong?”

“Everything.”  She sighed, the tears stinging her raw eyes as they threatened to remerge for act two.  “And nothing.”  She began to search the gown, tugging at the sleeves and peeking under the hem.

“Well, I know something that might cheer you up.”  Nate reached for her as she bustled by, unzipping the back of the gown.  She stepped out of his grasp, peering behind the delicate fabric.

“I doubt it.”  Ignoring Nate, she extracted a tiny silver butterfly pin and scrap of yellow.

“What is that?”  He leaned forward, peering at the silver flash as it disappeared into her palm, crumpled away.

“Nothing.”  She turned, hunching her shoulders.  “What did you want to tell me?”

“I didn’t want to tell you anything.”  Nate stood, stepping forward and touching her shoulder.  She whirled around, hiding her hands behind her back.  “I wanted to ask you go to to the ball with me.”

“What?”  Her fingers uncurled, her mouth dropping open as the butterfly and paper fell to the ground.  “You mean as your seamstress?”

Nate shook his head.  “No, as my date.  I want you to go to the Coronation with me.”  Bending down, he picked up the butterfly and paper.  All Flora could do was stare, her mouth gaping open.

“What?” Flora squeaked finally.  “Me?”  Bewildered, she shook her head.  “Why?  Why not Astrid?”

“I don’t want to go with Astrid.  I want to go with you.  I like you.”  Nate grinned.

It felt like she stared at him for an eternity.  Finally, her tongue loosened.  “Why?”

“Because you’re interesting, pretty and fun.”  Nate shrugged.  “Why else?”  He unrolled the paper and raised his eyebrows.  “Mourning Cloak.  H.N.”  His eyes widened.  “Hey, this is my grandfather’s writing!”  He glanced at the marigold gown, still unzipped in it’s open case.  “You found it in here?”

“Yeah, but none of it makes sense.”  Flora ran her fingers through her hair, relieved to have a new subject.  “Painted Lady, Mourning Cloak, Spring Azure.  It’s a bunch of nonsense.”

Nate shook his head.  “It’s not nonsense.”

“What do you mean?” she narrowed her eyes.

“Tell me you’ll go to the Coronation with me and I’ll tell you.”  She reached for the paper and pin and he yanked it out of her grasp, dangling it over her head.  She leaped for it, but he just laughed and raised it harder.  “So Flora, what do you say?  Will you go to the ball with me?”

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!  We have a new Sidewalk Dreams tomorrow!  Stay tuned!

More