A/N – Don't worry, only a couple more red herrings to go. This has been a big expenditure of time and words for something so trivial!

Thumbs Down to the Gown – Part 3

Vanessa poked at her Tuscan chicken salad. Why had she ordered this in the first place? Oh, it was all right, but she should have gone for the lasagna. Or a smoked turkey panini like the one Linda was munching on. Something involving the comfort of hot, melty cheese. At least they had a couple of chocolate things on the dessert cart. That would help.

"Well, I'm sorry that didn't turn out better," said Mom, drizzling vinaigrette over her spinach salad. "They certainly did have some unconventional things."

She had a way of saying 'unconventional' that made Vanessa drive her fork into a chunk of tomato with a little more force than necessary.

"I suppose we could always go back," her mother added. "I'm sorry I said that about the circus dress. If that's what you wanted…"

"It's not about the circus dress, Mom," Vanessa sighed.

"Honey, I know you like to be different…"

There it was, thought Vanessa; that indulgent tone she had heard over and over for as long as she could remember. "And it's not about being different," she interjected in her own defense.

Mom gave her that vague Of course, dear nod. "You know, if you're not finding what you want off the rack, maybe we should look into hiring a designer."

Vanessa nearly choked on an olive. "A designer? Mom, you cannot be serious. Do you have any idea how much that would cost? I don't, but it would have to be astronomical." She shook her head decisively. "I don't need a dress that costs more than my car."

"But you could have exactly what you want," Charlene insisted.

"I don't know what I want," Vanessa struggled to keep her voice down. "That's half the problem!" With a sigh, she tried to explain. "I just want something that feels – special."

"Vanessa, honey," Mom's voice was tender, "whatever you choose will be special. Because it will be yours. You'll make it special."

"I'm sure Ferb will think it's special," Linda added encouragingly.

These well-meant platitudes soothed her a bit, but didn't solve the problem. "I guess I'm just waiting for something to sweep me off my feet." She illustrated the words with a dramatic twirl of her fork, the green glint of her engagement ring drawing her eye. This brought her as close as she had come yet to explaining her thoughts. "It's like when Ferb found my ring. I had no idea what I wanted, but the moment I saw it, that was it. It wasn't just about having something different. It's like it was meant to be mine – it was just waiting for him to find it. Does that make any sense at all?" she appealed to both women, looking from one to the other.

It was Linda who spoke up. "Well, have you thought about looking for a vintage dress?"

Charlene's nose wrinkled at this. "You mean, something used? I don't know, isn't that supposed to be bad luck?"

"Mom, you don't believe in 'bad luck,'" Vanessa reminded her.

"I just can't see you getting married in something from Charitable Charities," her mother shook her head.

"No one's talking about Charitable Charities," Linda brushed this off with a light laugh. "I mean vintage." Turning to Vanessa, she explained, "I know a couple of women who have a shop near here, on the west side. They always have the nicest things. We could run out there after lunch, if you want. I think I can still find it," she admitted a bit uncertainly.

Vanessa already had her phone out and was swiping at the screen. "What's it called?"

"Wardrobe 2C. It's in Summer Grove."

Pulling up a map and directions, she discovered, "It's only about twenty minutes from here." With a look at her mother, she added, "I'd like to check it out."

"Well, I guess it can't hurt to look," Charlene conceded.

Finished with lunch and fortified with a hunk of chocolate cappucino cheesecake, Vanessa hopped into the front of her mother's car, reinvigorated and ready to navigate with the help of her phone. As they merged onto the West Oakdale loop, Charlene said, "Now there's no reason to make any rash decisions, honey."

"Mm-hm," she glanced up at the sign noting the next three exits. It amazed her that after all these years, Mom still hadn't learned that telling her not to make a rash decision usually provoked her to do exactly that.

"After all, there are plenty of other bridal shops back in Danville; we've barely even started."

"Relax, Mom. Even if I don't find anything here, it'll be fun."

"And it'll be nice to see the girls again," Linda remarked from the back seat. "Connie and Carol," she explained to Vanessa. "That's why they call it Wardrobe 2C – they're the two Cs."

They found the shop in a quaint old block of the suburb, sandwiched between a florist's and a store that sold new and old hardware and cabinet fixtures. As they walked past the display window filled with unusual door knobs and drawer pulls, Vanessa smiled to think of the hours Ferb could have spent in there.

An old-fashioned bell over the door jingled as they entered the vintage clothing shop. Wardrobe 2C appeared small at first glance, the front of the shop filled with racks of clothing along the walls, and stands displaying hats, shoes and handbags sprouting from the floor. There was an open archway beyond the cashier's counter, though, that offered a glimpse of further treasures. From these depths emerged a woman, summoned by the sound of their entrance. She came out wearing a sundress splashed with bright orange and scarlet poppies and a pleasant smile that blossomed into an expression of genuine delight once she saw the red-headed woman.

"Good grief, is that Linda Flynn-Fletcher?"

"Hi, stranger," Linda beamed in return, and the two of them met halfway for a hug.

"I haven't seen you since I don't know when," said the woman, stepping back. "You haven't changed a bit!"

"Neither have you. I brought some friends with me," she motioned to her companions. "Carol, this is Charlene, and her daughter, Vanessa. Vanessa's engaged to marry Ferb."

"Little Ferb?" the poppy-dressed woman exclaimed, holding one hand about three feet off the floor, then she chuckled. "Well, I guess he's not so little any more. I don't even want to hear how old your kids are now." She made a show of putting her hands over her ears before reaching out to her guests. "It's great to meet you. Are you just in town for the day?" she asked Linda.

"Actually, we're helping Vanessa shop for the wedding. She's in the 'gown hunt' stage. I'm afraid we're not having much luck so far."

"Try 'no luck,'" put in the bride-to-be.

"Ugh," said Carol, giving her a sympathetic look. "Fun but frustrating, right?"

"She's looking for something unique," Mom chimed in, putting an arm around her daughter. "Linda suggested we come see you."

"Well, you're in the right place," Carol smiled. "We don't have a lot of bridal gowns at the moment, but I do have a couple that might work."

As they followed her to the back rooms, Vanessa said, "It doesn't actually have to be an official bridal gown."

"In that case, I have some nice formals, too, you should look at. Come on, let's see what we can find."

Vanessa was pleased to see her mother start to look with interest at some of the vintage dresses in the shop. Carol led them to a corner where several floor-length gowns were displayed.

"Aaa," Linda exclaimed gleefully, "Charlene, look at this!"

"Oh, my gosh," Charlene lit up as well as the two of them swarmed around the billowing pile of cream-colored satin.

Vanessa took one look at the voluminous bridal gown with the huge puffy sleeves and said, "Oh, no, Mom, I am not wearing that."

"Of course not, dear," Mom reassured her, giggling. "The eighties haven't come back yet."

"Oh, I dreamed of having a gown like this when I was sixteen," Linda sighed.

"Oh, yeah," Carol nodded. "Call me crazy, but I still love these old eighties wedding gowns, they're so over-the-top."

Scanning the surrounding racks, Vanessa's eye was caught by a soothing shade of periwinkle and she approached for a closer look. Carol saw what had drawn her attention and said, "Oh, the English dress! Here," she turned it on the rack and scooped one arm under the skirt to offer a better view of it. "It's from the forties, rayon crepe."

The gown was long and sleek – slinky was the word Vanessa would have applied to it. It had elbow-length sleeves and the neckline came up to the throat in front, but it draped low in the back. And the color was beautiful. "You said it's English?" The thought made the dress all the more appealing to her.

"Originally, yes," Carol nodded. "We found it at an estate sale in Ontario. You're welcome to try it on," she lifted the hanger from the rail. "Come on, I'll show you the changing rooms."

Vanessa glanced over at her mother and Linda, who were still lost in the nostalgia of eighties fashion, and seized the opportunity to slip away. Carol left her alone with the periwinkle crepe gown, and Vanessa carefully eased herself into it. It would be simple enough to pack for Paris, she noted, gathering up the soft fabric. There were a couple of drawbacks to it, however. The Englishwoman who had first worn it must have been six feet tall, she marveled, noting how the skirt pooled on the floor around her feet. That would be simple enough to alter, though. The larger issue – literally – was Vanessa's curvaceous figure. If the back of the gown hadn't been open, she never would have fit into it. It was clearly designed for a woman of a more willowy shape.

"How are we doing?" came Carol's voice from outside the room.

Vanessa opened the door to show her. "Well, I love the color, but it doesn't really fit."

"I was a little afraid of that," the woman admitted. "The skirt could be hemmed, of course, but there's not much you can do about the bust. Connie says that woman must have been a beanpole. Well, we've got lots more you can try," she encouraged, leaving Vanessa alone to change out of the gown.

Once again in her own clothes, Vanessa carried the periwinkle gown back to the rack and was greeted by her mother with a giddy, "Oh, honey, look at this!" Mom was holding up a glittery halter dress from the disco era.

"Can you believe it?" said Linda, with an equally eager grin.

Vanessa cast one glance at the vivid lime green monstrosity and raised an eyebrow as she responded in a grim tone, "Well, at least I know Dad would like it."

"Oh, not for you," Mom assured her with an amused grimace. "But can you believe we used to wear these things? Well, it's a little before my time," she hedged.

"Oh, Char, look at this one," Linda had found some confection of tangerine polyester, and the women started in again on their tour of amusingly dated fashions.

Frankly grateful to have them distracted, Vanessa handed the English gown back to Carol and said, "Do you mind if I just look around?"

"Not at all. If you see something you like, feel free to try it on. Let me know if you need a hand."

"Thanks." Vanessa ventured away from the moms and off to a rack of day dresses. There were slim shifts from the sixties, full skirts from the fifties, suits from the forties with padded shoulders. This was more her style, and as she sorted through the clothes, she stopped at one outfit in particular. It was a two-piece suit dress in a smooth, shiny fabric, a dark steel blue in color with little abstract feathery swooshes of beige scattered over it. The top buttoned up the front, with wide lapels and three-quarter length sleeves and a narrow belt to cinch in the waist. The style reminded her fondly of her favorite clothes when she was sixteen. The matching skirt was slim and straight. It wasn't really what she would have envisioned for the wedding, but she couldn't resist plucking it from the rack and carrying it to the dressing room.

To her delight, the steel blue suit fit. Oh, the waistband of the skirt could have been taken in an inch or two, and she couldn't quite decide if it was a touch too long, but the jacket buttoned up perfectly, and she ran her fingers over the lapels as she turned this way and that in front of the mirror. Hands on hips, Vanessa smiled at her reflection. She absolutely had to get this dress. Grabbing her own clothes in one hand, she went out to show it off.

Carol had disappeared, and Mom and Linda were now chatting with another woman, shorter and stouter, in striped capris and glasses. Linda spotted Vanessa first and said, "Oh, here she is! Vanessa, come say hi to Connie."

She was introduced to the other of the two Cs, who said, "So, I hear you're marrying Ferb. He's such a doll."

"Yes. Yes, he is," Vanessa smiled.

"Linda brought him in here when he was, what, seven?" Connie looked to the woman for confirmation. "To buy his dad a necktie for Father's Day. He was the sweetest little thing you ever saw. And you have got to tell me," she stepped back to get a better look, "that you are taking that suit. It's perfect on you. I wish I could fit into it," she confided, with a rueful smile and a pat of her tummy.

"Yeah, Mom," Vanessa displayed herself, "what do you think?"

Charlene looked disappointed as she asked, "For the wedding? Wouldn't you rather…?"

"No, not for the wedding, just because. I love it. I think it looks good."

"It does," Linda agreed. "It's very smart."

"Well, I do like it," Charlene agreed. "As long as it's 'just because.'"

Carol appeared again at this point and instantly said, "Oh, Vanessa, that suit looks fabulous on you!"

"Thanks. I'm definitely buying this today."

"But not for the wedding," Mom clarified.

Connie turned to Carol and asked, "Did you show her the Bo Peep dress?"

"Is it still here?" Carol questioned. "I didn't see it."

"It had better be here." Connie looked alarmed for a moment, then realized with relief, "Oh, silly me, it's in the back. I was trying to fit it on a mannequin to go in the window. Vanessa, you have to try it on."

"Bo Peep dress?" she raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"That's just what we call it," said Carol. "It's a wedding gown from the fifties."

"It's the prettiest dress you ever saw," Connie gushed. "But it fits hardly anyone. You have the perfect shape for it. I would love to see how it looks on you."

"Oh, yes, honey, do it," Mom pressed eagerly, and Linda nodded in agreement.

Vanessa cast her eyes around the circle of enthusiastic women and simply reiterated, with a pointed look at her mother, "Bo Peep?" But they were all gazing at her so pleadingly, she sighed and said, "Well, I guess it can't hurt to try it on."

The gown was brought from its hiding place to the dressing room, along with a box full of accessories. Vanessa's first impression was of lace, and ruffles, and more lace. The added glimpse of hoops and crinolines made her remark, "I think I'm going to need a hand with this." She made the appeal first to her mother, but Charlene held up her hands and stepped back.

"Oh, but I want to be surprised," she protested plaintively.

"I can help," Linda offered. "If you don't mind."

Vanessa didn't mind, in fact, and agreed with a, "Sure, thanks."

"Let me help you get everything unpacked," Carol offered, "then I'll get out of the way. Oh, and hand me that suit when you get out of it, and I'll bag it up for you."

The "Bo Peep dress" wasn't just a dress, Vanessa discovered, as they crowded into the changing room. It was a complete bridal ensemble, from shoes to veil. She shuddered a bit as Linda admired the headpiece. She was not wearing a veil, not under any circumstances. No matter what dress she ended up with, Vanessa already knew what she was wearing in her hair on her wedding day, and it did not involve a veil. Shockingly, this topic had not yet been broached – probably because Mom just assumed there would be a veil – but as far as Vanessa was concerned, this was not open to debate. Still, she admitted, there was no harm in trying it on, just to complete the look.

Once all the pieces were assembled, Vanessa and Linda went to work on organizing her into the gown. It was clear where the Bo Peep reference had come from. The skirt actually had hoops under it, and was smothered in row after row of dainty ruffles of lace. The strapless bodice was smooth, pure white satin, but over it went a short-sleeved lace bolero jacket. Then came a pair of fingerless lace gloves that covered her arms up to the elbows. The pearl-studded band of the veil fit over the crown of her head, and Linda fluffed out the crisp tulle behind her shoulders. At last, Vanessa stepped into the white pumps; they were a touch too big, but nothing she couldn't walk in.

"That is so pretty," Linda said, admiring the effect.

"Is it too short?" Vanessa wondered, observing how the bell-shaped skirt stopped at her ankles.

"No, hon, that's how it's supposed to be," Linda assured her.

Vanessa examined the stranger in the mirror. The dress was pretty – she was pretty – but the bride looking back at her was someone she almost didn't recognize. And she knew the elaborate ensemble would never make it to Paris, never mind the Eiffel Tower.

"Come on," said Linda, "let's go show everyone how beautiful you look."

With a knot in the pit of her stomach, Vanessa turned to Linda and begged, "If Mom gets her heart set on this, you have to help me talk her out of it!"

"Relax, hon," Linda patted her arm. "You'll be fine."

Carefully curling her toes into the too-big shoes, Vanessa proceeded with mincing steps out to the shop floor. "Here comes the bride," Linda chirped, completely unnecessarily, and an audible gasp went up from the three women awaiting her.

"Oh, my gosh, I'm going to cry!"

A momentary flash of panic seized Vanessa before she realized that these words had come from Connie, who was blinking behind her glasses and fanning herself with one hand. Mom was dry-eyed, but glowing with excitement as she circled her daughter and gushed, "What a beautiful dress, oh, that's so pretty, oh look at the little gloves, isn't that sweet, are there hoops under there, let me see…"

The women flocked around to admire the gown in all its detailed glory, and Vanessa breathed a bit easier. The gleam in every eye and the breathless smile on every face reminded her of what Olga had said on her first trip to Tri-State Bridal: she was simply the dress-up doll, and these overgrown little girls were just excited to see the pretty gown on her.

"Honey, what do you think?" Mom asked at last. "Do you like it?"

"It really is beautiful," Vanessa answered carefully. "And thank you for letting me try it on," she acknowledged the two Cs. "But… it's not really what I'm looking for. It's a little…"

"Too Bo-Peepy?" Carol suggested, with an understanding smile.

"I'm sure you'll find someone it's perfect for," Vanessa assured them.

"I suppose it's all for the best," Mom acknowledged. "After all, you'd never be able to get it to Paris."

Vanessa's jaw nearly dropped at this remark. Was her mother finally coming to terms with the venue? Before she could respond, Connie approached her and said, "Could I ask you – it's fine if you say no, but – would you let me take a few pictures of you in that dress, for our website? We can blur out your face if you don't want it online, but I don't know when we'll ever find a better model, and it's such a beautiful dress."

"Sure," she agreed with a smile. "And you don't have to blur me out."

"Oh, thank you," Connie nearly jumped up and down at the answer. "Let's go up front where there's more light. In fact, maybe we should go outside. Come on."

"I'd like to browse around a little more," said Linda, hanging back.

"I'd love to try on some of those hats," Charlene put in, and Vanessa left the moms to their own devices as she and Connie went outside to take photographs.

Modeling the dress was actually sort of fun, as Vanessa struck appropriately dainty and demure poses amidst the lace and ruffles and Connie snapped pictures of the details as well as the overall effect. While they were engaged in this enterprise, a car pulled up and a young woman got out. She was tall and slim, with auburn hair pulled back in a ponytail, and she carried a garment bag over her shoulder. As she approached them, the first words out of her mouth were a delighted exclamation of, "Oh, the Bo Peep dress!"

"Vanessa, this is my niece, Rachel," said Connie.

"Hi," Rachel smiled at her, and Vanessa returned the greeting.

"Vanessa's engaged to my friend Linda's son," Connie explained.

"That's wonderful!" the young woman enthused. "You look beautiful in that gown; you're going to leave him speechless."

Vanessa had to grin a bit at the 'speechless' remark, but before she could answer, Connie put in, "Oh, she's not buying the gown, she's just modeling today. Does this mean you're finished?" she changed the subject, eagerly eyeing the garment bag.

Rachel nodded. "All done. Sorry it took so long, I had a hard time matching the new thread with the old."

"I can't wait to see. Vanessa," Connie motioned for her to follow and said, "I can't thank you enough for this, but I can knock something off that suit you want. No, I'm serious," she waved off Vanessa's attempted protest, "it's the least I can do. Let's see what Rachel's got, then I'll help you with the gown. She does beautiful needlework; she made the nicest set of tea towels when her uncle and I got married."

Mom and Linda were out of sight, presumably still browsing in the depths of the shop, and Carol was also absent. Rachel had draped the opaque plastic garment bag over the counter and was unzipping it as Connie pressed forward to get the first look. Vanessa hung back, not wanting to crush the Bo Peep hoop skirt, but she could see over the woman's shoulder a glimpse of pale blue accented with a scattering of other colors. Connie's fingertips hovered over the fabric, hesitant to touch it, as she breathed, "It's beautiful. Rachel, you're amazing, I can't tell the difference. Vanessa, look at this," she beckoned, then said, "Here, let's take it out of the bag." Together, aunt and niece carefully unwrapped the garment and Rachel took hold of the hanger, lifting the dress into the light.

A quiver stirred in Vanessa's heart and coursed through the rest of her, leaving her light-headed. The azure cloud before her eyes resolved itself into a gauzy gown, and she took a step forward as the details became clearer. The dress was made of a very fine net, with a scooped neckline and fluttery sleeves capping the shoulders. The dropped waist slanted downward at an angle, creating three tiers of softly gathered ruffles of net. Most striking of all, the dress was scattered with tiny vines and clusters and buds of roses embroidered in muted shades of green and mauve. Connie and Rachel were discussing the dress and Vanessa gathered from their remarks that Rachel had restored by hand the worn or missing portions of the original embroidery. The work was stunning, and Vanessa could only guess at how long it must have taken.

Connie turned to ask her what she thought, and Vanessa found herself unable to form the words. When their eyes met, the woman responded to her expression with a kind smile and gently said, "Would you like to try it on?"

Rachel held out the dress toward her in appeal.

All Vanessa could do was nod.

"I have the slip put away here," said Connie. "I'll get it for you. Go back to the dressing room and we'll get you out of that gown first."

"I can help, if you want," Rachel offered.

Vanessa nodded again before she managed to squeeze out a, "Thanks." As Connie started off to find the slip, Vanessa reached out and touched her arm. "Don't tell my Mom, if you see her. Or Linda. I-I'd like to try it on before I show them, okay?"

Connie agreed and the younger women retreated to the changing room. Rachel was packing away the odds and ends for the Bo Peep gown when the older woman brought in the slip for the net dress.

"I930s, silk charmeuse," she fell naturally into fashion historian mode, handing over the simple garment. "It's not original to the dress, but it's from the same era, and it's surprising how well it coordinates."

The shimmering slip was the blue of a clear sky reflected on a still lake. The silk was like liquid, thought Vanessa, as it caressed the curves of her figure, gently complementing her shape. The hem came to her knees, forming an opaque foundation for the embroidered dress that went over it. The airy blue net suggested a layer of mist rising from the waters, the delicate vines and blooms floating on the surface. The ruffles of the skirt draped to somewhere slightly above her ankles, and she stepped into her own high heeled shoes to get the proper effect.

Vanessa Doofenshmirtz gazed at her reflection in the mirror. The expression on the face gazing back at her was oddly familiar, but it took her a moment to realize why: It was a lot like the look she was used to getting from Ferb. He had told her once how he envisioned her whenever he was overcome by that look, and now she understood. All at once, she was seeing herself through the eyes of the young man who loved her.

She was vaguely aware that Connie and Rachel were still there, but they had fallen speechless as well, and the whole world stood still for a moment before Vanessa, with a lump in her throat, squeezed out four words.

"I want my Mom."

With an understanding nod, Connie said gently, "Stay put. I'll go round everyone up, then you can come out and show them."

Vanessa turned to Rachel, whose lips were pressed together in a broad, uncontainable smile as she tried to blink something out of her light blue eyes. The young woman reached out and fluffed one of the butterfly sleeves with her fingertips. "Lucky I brought this back today."

"Are you sure…?" Vanessa began, feeling suddenly presumptuous. "I mean, it is for sale, right? If you meant to keep it…" For a moment, she felt a surge of dread at the possible answer. She didn't really want to pull a Mary McGuffin on Rachel, but after all she had been through, there was no way Vanessa was leaving the shop without this dress.

Rachel must have seen the flash of concern, because now she took Vanessa's hand between hers and patted it. "Don't worry. My part's done. You'll have to talk price with Aunt Connie and Carol of course, but…" She stepped back to admire it one more time and no longer tried to hold back the gleam of joy in her eyes. "It's your dress, Vanessa. I'm just glad it found you."

The door cracked open and Connie peeked in. "Ready?"

Mom and Linda and Carol were all waiting for her. There was a collective intake of breath, and Vanessa heard the murmured comments of "lovely" and "beautiful" from the other women, but she had eyes only for her speechless mother. With an appealing look, Vanessa prompted, "Mom…?"

"My little girl." The words were barely audible, and Charlene pressed her fingers to her lips as if surprised that they had come out. She stepped forward and said, more strongly this time, "My precious little girl…" Her arms reached out and her hands fluttered somewhere just shy of her daughter. "Oh, I'm afraid to touch you, I don't want to crush anything."

"It's okay, Mom," Vanessa assured her, drawing her into the hug and feeling the little shudder go through her.

"Oh, look at me," the woman pulled back, wiping her wet cheeks with one hand. "I'm a mess."

Carol produced a tissue, and another, as the emotional mother collected herself. Vanessa turned to Linda to gauge her reaction, and caught a moist gleam in her eye as well.

"Honey, you look like an angel," her future mother-in-law beamed at her. "We're going to have to scrape Ferb up off the floor when he sees you."

Yes, she thought fondly; Yes, we will. Vanessa wished for a moment that the wedding wasn't such a long time away; it was going to be hard to keep the dress a secret for that long, but she really did want to surprise Ferb when the day came. She could already picture the look on his face.

The End

A/N – If you would like to see the inspiration for Vanessa's dress: Do a Google image search for "fine net dress" – one of the first results should be from a site called dressingvintage, with a caption about "peachy pink fine net dress." The original dress is a peach color, and if you follow the link, you can see more views of it. For a long time, I wanted Vanessa to have a floaty 1920s-1930s dress that wasn't an actual wedding gown, and was so happy when I found this. Well before "Excaliferb," I wanted her in light blue, but the Lady of the Puddle sealed that for sure.

The steel blue suit she buys is also a real dress – I thought it was from that same site, but can't find it now. It will be making a return appearance down the road.