The Wedding Gown

The "Swap-and-Shop, Bob speaking," came the deep male voice over the telephone . The woman spoke softly into the telephone . "I have a wedding gown for sale, size ten, never been worn. ' "Okay, what's your telephone number? How much do you want for it?" "The number is 239-1806; I'd like to have seventy-five dollars." "All right. Thanks for calling." Wedding Gown by Vergie Pittman She hung up the telephone and stared out the window a few moments. It was a soft green kind of day. Turning then, she walked slowly upstairs to the room where she had spent so much time while a child, and where, later, she had come to dream dreams and take refuge in times of stress. The wedding gown, in all its delicate loveliness, lay spread across the bed. Gently she touched the folds of the skirt, 57 then picking it up held it against her face. The lace of the bodice and sleeves fell over her hands, a bouquet of cream Queen Anne's lace. Tears sprang to her eyes and she dropped the dress on the bed. She was crying. She, who had never cried since that day in 1944 when her aunt had come to tell her that John, the only man she would ever love, had married another girl. Dear Aunt Meg, so kind and gentle; always there when Susan needed her. She had taken Susan as a child, when her parents were killed in an automobile accident; had loved her, educated her, and suffered in silence when Susan decided to leave Forest Dale. She had helped Susan pack for Atlanta, make transportation plans, and had seen that she did not want for anything while she was looking for suitable work. Now Aunt Meg was gone. Susan's tortured mind went over and over the details of the past few days; how she had come home from the office and found the telegram from Aunt Meg's pastor under her door. Meg had passed away, and she was needed at home. On the long drive from Atlanta, she had time to think. She had been in Atlanta for over twenty-three years, and was a successful business woman in the field of interior design. She considered herself fairly happy and contented. It had only been when she made periodic visits to Aunt Meg that her safe little world was shaken, and she felt vulnerable and alone. She had often begged her aunt to live in Atlanta, but Aunt Meg and the big white house near the corner of Bryant Street in Forest Dale seemed to belong together, and Susan realized her aunt would never leave home. She decided that as soon as the funeral was over and she could make the necessary arrangements, she would close the house and return to Atlanta. Meg had made most of the funeral arrangements herself—the ministers who were to speak; the songs to be sung; the place of interment. She had never wanted to create problems for anyone. Yet she had always given so freely of herself. How much so was strongly emphasized to Susan, standing at the head of the casket, by the hundreds who filed by to pay homage to this gracious and unselfish woman. Irma, Meg's dearest friend, was Susan's greatest source of comfort and help during this trying time, and it was she who told Susan about the Swap-andShop program on the local radio station. People from Forest Dale and the surrounding area used it to advertise just about everything. One could call in and describe items for sale or items they wanted to buy and leave their telephone numbers, an easy way to advertise. Susan had no idea of disposing of the wedding gown, but when she took it from the chest and broke open the sealed package, she knew that she could no longer leave it there, deteriorating, with no one to care. She couldn't take it with her, and Aunt Meg was gone. With dry eyes now, she carefully spread the dress on the bed again and closed a couple of the little satin loops over the buttons of...