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“The same,” I confirm. Maggie doesn’t ask any more questions—she’s as aware as I am that the less she knows about some things, the better.
The dressing room is a riot of white and cream lace, silk and satin when I walk in. Jackie is waiting for me, and I gesture to the rows of confectionary dresses that my mother has most definitely picked out.
“I’m going to try on one to appease her,” I tell Jackie. “But I’m not wasting my time with the rest. My mother doesn’t grasp my style at all.”
“Understood,” she says with a small smile, pulling the first off of the rack, and I let out a breath. In this, at least, I have some control.
The dress I try on to appease my mother is a mixture of wedding cupcake and Princess Diana—a huge cream taffeta skirt that requires two crinolines to puff it out fully, a nipped v-waist with rosettes around it, a sweetheart neckline and cream-puff sleeves with lace at the edges. I can’t imagine who on earth would pay the amount I see on the price tag for this retro monstrosity, but Jackie dutifully buttons me into it, and I wince at my reflection as I turn to walk out to where my audience is waiting.
“All I need is a permed mullet,” I mutter, and I think I hear Jackie laugh behind me.
The horror on both Maggie and Angelica’s faces when I walk out tells me all I need to know about the dress. Sofia is covering her mouth with one hand, obviously trying to hide laughter, and Caterina’s mouth is twitching with a barely-held back smirk.
My mother, on the other hand, looks ecstatic.
“Oh, Saoirse, you look beautiful,” she breathes, and I frown at her.
“I feel like a wedding cake topper,” I tell her bluntly. “It’s not really my style.”
Jackie appears behind me, adding a tiara and a fingertip-length veil to the disaster that I’m wearing, and I glare at her the minute I turn around to look in the mirror, because now my mother’s eyes are slightly misty.
“I’ll consider it,” I tell her, even though I have absolutely no intention of doing that. “Can we try on the next one?” I ask Jackie pointedly, who nods and escorts me back to the dressing room.
I let out a sigh of relief the minute she has me out of it. The next dress is one of Maggie’s picks, something between my own style and my mother’s—a lace bodice with a boatneck and long sleeves, with a puffy tulle skirt and a grosgrain ribbon around the waist.It’s pretty, I have to grudgingly admit as I put it on, even if it’s still a bit princess-y for my taste.
That’s just the thing, I suppose. I’ve been theIrish princessas long as I’ve been aware of my own place in the world, and I don’t want to be Cinderella on my wedding day, not even close. I want to feel as much like myself as I can.
If I’m going to be a princess, I want to be an elegant one, not a fantasy. A real person, with my own thoughts and hopes and plans.
The next dress is more my taste, a slim fitted white silk dress with a draped neckline and thin straps. I walk out to where the others are sitting, suggesting a jeweled hair clip instead of a tiara, and I feel more like myself when I look in the mirror. My mother looks visibly upset.
“It’s—a little bit plain,” Maggie says when I motion for her to come stand next to me. I can feel my anxiety rising, because I know whatever I choose is going to be an issue between my mother and I. “Maybe something a little more lacy? It is your wedding day. I put one in there that I think you’ll really love.” She turns to Jackie and says something in a low voice, and the blonde nods, scurrying off as Maggie squeezes my hand.
“I’ll try to convince your mother,” she says in a low voice. “Go try the other one on. This’ll be over soon.”
Jackie has the dress ready for me when I return to the changing room. It’s an all-lace trumpet gown in a soft white, the lace scattered subtly with small seed pearls and tiny gold flecks hidden in the embroidered leaves in places. The sleeves are elbow-length, edged in eyelash lace, and the neckline is a simple v, deep enough to show a hint of cleavage but not overly sexy for a wedding in a cathedral.
When I put it on, it skims over me perfectly. The back has illusion buttons down to the waist, and Jackie zips me up, neatly buttoning each one quickly as I look in the mirror.
“Your friend knows you very well,” she says softly. “This looks gorgeous on you.”
“She really does.” I swallow hard. If there was ever a wedding dress that was tailor-made for me, it’s this one. And when I walk out, even my mother doesn’t look as disapproving as I’d imagined she might. Maggie grins brightly, and the others smile too. Jackie adds a simple fingertip-length veil edged in the same eyelash lace on the edge of the sleeves, and I nod as I look at my reflection in the mirror.
“This one, definitely,” I tell her. My mother gets up to come stand next to me, and I brace for some comment about my choice, but she just smiles gently at me.
“It’s not what I envisioned you in, but it’s a very pretty dress, Saoirse. At least it has some embellishment, it’s more than what I’d hoped for. I thought for sure you’d pick that plain, ugly one.”
Well, she wasn’t going to be perfect.I manage a smile, smoothing down the soft lace of the dress with my hands. “This one feels right,” I say firmly. “This is my dress.”
“Get out of it then, dear, so I can pay.” My mother fishes in her purse for her wallet, and Jackie escorts me back to the dressing room so I can slip back into my normal clothes.
“Well, we’ll see you tomorrow, I suppose,” Caterina says as my mother goes to pay for the dress and arrange for alterations, and I blink at her.
“Tomorrow?” I see the expression on Maggie’s face, and narrow my eyes.
“Your mother picked tomorrow for your bridal shower,” Maggie says. “It was meant to be asurprise,” she adds, glancing at Caterina with an annoyed look on her face.
“She invited Sofia and I,” Caterina says primly. “So we’ll be there tomorrow. Your mother thought that as long as we’re in town, we might as well be a part of the festivities.”
