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“Thanks, Mom,” she sighed. “So should I just take this one off?”
“Oh, definitely. I’ll get the attendant,” Yulia said. She swished away, yelling out, “Amanda! What is the point of taking her measurements if you’re just going to bring her the wrong size over and over again?”
Annika winced and shut the changing room door. She hated the way her mother spoke to almost everyone. She was notoriously uptight when it came to service workers of all kinds. She was not a patient or understanding woman. In fact, Yulia Baranov was almost always looking for something to complain about, and if she could get a manager involved, that was even better. And if someone got fired in the process? Well, that was just extra icing on the cake.
Amanda, the sweet but overwhelmed wedding dress attendant, was being run ragged. Annika and her mother had been at Desert Rose Bridal Boutique for going on six hours now. They were Amanda’s first booking of the day and, judging by the time already elapsed, likely to be her only customers. At this point, Annika didn’t care much about the dress she picked out. She just wanted to get it over with and make sure the attendant got her commission; she deserved it after everything Yulia had put her through.
“There can be some variation between designers when it comes to size,” Amanda patiently tried to explain to Yulia for the fifth time.
“You can’t look at her and see that this dress is way too big? Are you trying to tell me my daughter is fat?” Yulia retorted with a broad gesture toward Annika.
“No, ma’am. I would never,” the attendant replied. Yulia looked unconvinced.
“It’s fine, Mom. Look, Amanda has a few more dresses for me to try,” Annika said.
The attendant rushed over with the shimmery gowns folded over her arm. She gave Annika a look of gratitude and said, “Okay, I know we said we don’t like the fishtail style. Or the princess gowns… or the A-line fit… But I have this off-the-shoulder style—”
“Off the shoulder? What is she, a mall skank from the eighties?” Yulia scoffed.
“Maybe not that one,” Annika added softly.
The attendant shuffled to the next one. “If you’re looking for a little more coverage on the big day, I have a really beautiful cap-sleeve gown here for you to try.”
“Looks great,” Annika said with a quick smile. But she barely managed to fit one leg through the dress before Yulia came stomping over.
“No, no, no. That’ll make you look like an extra in a period piece,” she snipped. “Again, what century are we shopping in, Amanda?”
“We’re running out of dresses to try on, Mom,” Annika spoke up. “There can’t be something wrong with all of them.”
Yulia folded her arms over her ample chest and smirked. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s not the dresses’ fault. Why are you slouching? I taught you better posture than that. I mean, what was the point of all those ballet classes if you can’t stand up straight?”
Annika wanted to argue that she thought the ballet classes were for her own enjoyment, but she knew it was a pointless argument. Especially now that the truth had come out; her parents never planned to let her study ballet in New York City. It was all just padding out the lie, making her believe in her dreams so she wouldn’t run away.
“I have one more dress for you to try, Miss Baranov,” Amanda said.
She held up a floor-length, pearly satin dress with delicate lace around the neckline, and romantic chiffon sleeves that detached from the dress. Swarovski crystals glittered along the structured bodice, and the skirt was full and swishy without being poofy. All day, Annika had felt nervous and uncomfortable. She was more distracted by her mother’s bad behavior than by the gorgeous, expensive wedding dresses hanging on every wall. But now, looking at this last gown, Annika felt her heart skip a beat. She reached out and touched the buttery-soft satin as Amanda took it off its hanger. The attendant got to work, flitting around the tiny changing room as she helped Annika try on the dress. When it was fully in place and laced up, Amanda gasped.
“Come on. Let’s see it in the full-length mirror,” she urged her.
Annika stepped out, the dress swishing around her with every step. She stood on the platform in front of the mirrors and felt tears well up in her green eyes. For the first time, Annika truly considered what it would be like to marry Mikhail. Not to be engaged, not to be married, but the actual ceremony of becoming his wife. Suddenly, she cared what he thought of her dress. She wanted him to feel something when she walked down the aisle. And if this dress wasn’t enough to do that, then nothing was.
“Wow,” Annika breathed. “It’s beautiful.”
“You look like a dream,” Amanda told her, grinning from ear to ear.
Even Yulia seemed hard-pressed to find something to complain about. She sidled up next to Annika, staring hard at her reflection. Her eyes roved up and down the dress, looking for flaws. A few times, she opened her mouth to speak, only to close it again. Annika was shocked. She had never seen her mother at a loss for words.
“Now, why did it take six hours for you to bring us this one?” Yulia criticized.
“Sometimes it just takes time to find the right one,” Amanda said calmly.
“And this is definitely the right one,” Annika asserted. “I think the search is over.”
Yulia looked put out to be at the end of their marathon appointment, but begrudgingly agreed, “Looks that way.”
Annika was elated. She almost didn’t want to take the dress off, but she did want to get the hell out of there. One long morning with her mother had proved to her once again that it was more work than fun to hang out with her. Amanda helped her out of the dress and Annika put on her street clothes while Yulia paced around, making snide comments about other customers and unnecessarily touching all the bedazzled gowns.
“So, ladies, how would you like to purchase your dream dress today? Debit, credit, check, cash. We can hold on to the gown until your big day, or you can take it home with you for safekeeping,” Amanda stated cheerily.
