But no, she was surely worrying for nothing. Nadine had of course ensured Ellen knew the big day was coming up, so the dress would’ve been long taken out of storage and aired and ready for final alternations. Hadn’t she herself spoken to Ellen about it only last month?
But just in case, Jess needed to check for herself that all was in hand in time for Saturday. And in truth, to see how lovely Ellen was doing also.
Inside, Sea Glass Bridal was a study in serene elegance. Morning light filtered through sheer white curtains, casting softshadows across the polished hardwood floors as Jess moved quietly through the store. Display racks held dresses arranged by silhouette rather than designer, their ivory and cream fabrics catching the light like sea foam.
“Is that Jessica I see there? Hello!”
Ellen's voice drifted through the air from the back of the shop, softer than Jess remembered but still carrying that distinctive blend of New England practicality and gentle humor.
“Hey Ellen,” she greeted. "I hope it's okay to pop in unannounced?”
“Of course, come in, come in!” The older woman sat at her seamstress table, her slender frame wrapped in a pale blue cardigan despite the shop's warmth.
At sixty-eight, Ellen Doyle had the kind of beauty that came from a life fully lived - silver-streaked brown hair pulled back in a simple knot, fine lines around eyes that missed nothing, hands that knew precisely how fabric should drape against a woman's body.
Those hands were now what Jess noticed first - how they trembled slightly as Ellen smoothed a section of beadwork on the dress laid out before her.Herwedding dress. Still here, still receiving expert attention. From Ellen herself, not some stranger.
Relief washed through her so powerfully that Jess felt momentarily light-headed.
"I must admit," she chuckled a little, drawn to the table as if by magnetic pull. "I was a little worried after Mom told me you've been ill."
Ellen waved her hand dismissively. "Your mother always did have a flair for drama. I'm fine."
But she wasn't fine. Up close, Jess could see the changes - the pronounced hollows beneath Ellen's cheekbones, the papery thinness of the skin at her temples, the way her cardigan hungloose where it had once fit properly. Most telling was the slight stoop to her shoulders, as if some invisible weight pressed down on her normally upright posture.
"Still beautiful," Jess said, focusing on safer territory. "The beadwork is incredible."
"Italian glass beads from the 1920s," Ellen replied, her pride evident. “I’d been saving them for the right gown. When you chose this, I knew immediately they belonged with it.” Her fingers traced the pattern along the bodice - tiny crystal beads arranged in a delicate vine pattern that caught the light with each movement. Despite their slight tremor, Ellen's hands moved with the precision of decades of practice, knowing exactly where each bead belonged.
"I'm so sorry I wasn’t able to come before now,” Jess said. "Things at work were just so chaotic …”
"Life in the city always is," Ellen said without judgment. “I think that's why so many Nantucket brides come home for their weddings - a gentle reminder that some things move at their own pace." She gestured to a small stool beside the table. "Sit. Tell me all the excitement. How are you feeling?”
Jess perched on the stool, suddenly aware of the contrast between her polished, city-self and Ellen's unhurried island presence.
“It’s all a bit … overwhelming to be honest. Mom has so many ideas about everything, work was pressing for me to cut my honeymoon short so I had to work up some extra time, and have kind of been depending on Nadine to ensure everything’s under control here."
“No better choice.” Ellen smiled fondly, listening with the same attentive focus she gave to aligning delicate fabric. Then she looked up. "And the groom - is he with you?”
"Julian's in Tokyo until Wednesday.” Jess twisted the diamond ring on her finger. “He trusts me to handle all thedetails in the run-up to the cerrmony. He's very practical about these things."
"Hmm." Ellen made a noncommittal sound. "And how do you feel about the dress?” She gestured to the gown laid out on the bench in front of her. “Still the one?"
"Absolutely," Jess said without hesitation. “It's just … perfect."
Ellen's smile held a hint of something she couldn't read - satisfaction, certainly, but also a deeper knowledge that made Jess feel suddenly transparent, as if the older woman was looking past her confident exterior and unearthing the knot of anxiety beneath. "Good." Then Ellen turned back to the dress. “Looking at you now, I can see I need to take in the waist slightly - and finish securing the beadwork along the skirt. Then we'll do our final fitting as planned to make sure everything falls exactly right.” She reached for a small silver tin of pins, her hand shaking enough that several spilled onto the table. Jess instinctively reached to help gather them. "Thank you, dear," Ellen said, her tone light, but a flash of frustration crossed her face. "These old hands aren't what they once were."
"Mom mentioned you've been … in treatment," Jess said carefully. “I’m so sorry.”
Ellen sighed, setting down the pins. "Nothing stays private on this island. Yes, cancer has taken hold. It's tedious more than anything else.” But the shadows under her eyes told a different story and Jess thought of her own grandmother's diagnosis years ago - the same brave front, the same dismissive language that belied the gravity of the situation.
"Are you absolutely sure about finishing the dress?” she asked, wincing inwardly a little in case the question sounded selfish. "I mean, I'm concerned about you I mean, not so much the dress. It’s already perfect as is, and I’m sure it’ll fit fine on the day …”
"Both valid concerns," Ellen said with a small laugh. "But of course I'll get it done. I've arranged for my niece to help with the shop during hospital appointments, but rest assured, alterations are still my domain."
Jess remembered her mother mentioning this too. "From Chicago, Mom said?"
"Caroline, yes. Just arrived this weekend. She's in finance, very … practical.” Ellen threaded a needle with practiced movements despite her trembling fingers. "She'll handle the business aspect while I focus on what matters - the dresses and their brides."
