Chapter Eleven
Lana sank into the cushions of the plush couch. The frills along the sides where she rested her right arm were giving her a headache. It was because of the zigzag pattern of the lace. Her eyes grew weary, tracing the design left, then diagonal, then left again. She much preferred straight lines and fabric made of much sturdier stuff.
"What do you think for the base color?" asked Nancy, the bridal shop owner.
Lana jerked back as another set of patterns was placed in front of her face. The polka dots of pink, checkered squares of cream, and brocades of blues made her temple pulse with agitation. Lana dug her nails into the couch cushions, only to have her fingers tangle in the delicate lace.
Nancy smiled serenely as she turned the pages of the pattern book, as though each
