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Tracey
Two weeks have passed since Liam and I admitted we love each other. In that time, we’ve spent nearly every free moment together. Most afternoons, before he goes to work, he comes over and helps Deja with her photography portfolio. The three of us have spent the last two weekends driving to neighboring towns so Deja can take more pictures.
Each day, I fall for him a little more.
Deja has opened up more to him each day that he comes over too. They spend hours bent over her laptop, looking at pictures and working through edits together, while I watch from the couch.
Now, he’s sitting in a chair outside the dressing rooms in one of the local boutiques while Deja and I look for dresses for Jake’s wedding.
In the beginning, I didn’t want to go. I’m fine with Deja going, but I had wanted to stay home and wallow in whatever horrible feelings might come my way. Even though Jake and I are no longer together, it doesn’t mean I don’t have any feelings about what used to be and what could have been if we’d stuck it out for the long haul. It was Liam who said Deja would need me to be there with her at her father’s wedding.
The closer the day of the nuptials gets, the more truth I see in that statement. Her father getting remarried is taking its toll on her. She’s quiet and withdrawn any time it comes up in conversation. More often than not, if Jake says something when he picks her up or drops her off, Deja either clams up or quickly excuses herself and goes to her room.
My daughter needs me to be there for her, and I’m not going to let her down.
“You look beautiful,” Liam says as I come out in a blue dress that falls just below my knees.
“I think the neckline is too low to wear to my ex-husband’s wedding. I don’t want to look like I’m trying to get him back,” I say quietly, keeping my voice low so Deja doesn’t hear me.
“Good point,” Liam says, leaning back in the chair. “What about that yellow one?”
“I looked like a grandmother.”
He laughs and shakes his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Nothing you wear could ever make you look like a grandmother.”
“Gross,” Deja says as she walks out of her dressing room to stand in front of the floor-length mirror. “You guys are disgusting.”
I laugh and stand behind her, moving her braids to rest over one shoulder. Our eyes connect in the mirror, and I can see the panic on her face. It’s the same panic that has been making an appearance any time the wedding is mentioned.
“Do I have to go?” she whispers, her eyes wide and glassy.
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” I pull the zipper up the rest of the way. “But you might regret not going.”
“I don’t have to go if I don’t want to though?”
“No. It’s your choice. I know your dad wants you there, but it’s going to be hard. You’ve been through a lot in the last few months. If you want to go, I’ll be with you the entire time. If you don’t want to go, we can stay at home and pig out on ice cream.”
Deja nods, taking a deep breath as she looks at her dress in the mirror. The dress is lavender with a lace overlay. She runs her hands down the dress, smoothing it out.
My heart swells with pride as Deja swallows hard and nods.
“I’ll go to the wedding, but only because you’re going to be there.”
I smile, wrapping my arms around her. She stiffens for a moment before relaxing into the hug. For just a moment, I can see the scared little girl she tries to keep hidden deep within herself. It breaks my heart to know she’s struggling, but all I can do is be there for her.
“I think I like this one,” Deja says.
“Well then,” I step back and let her go. “Go get changed and we’ll get you that one. I have one more dress to try on before we can get out of here.”
Deja nods and disappears back into the dressing room. I look over my shoulder at Liam, seeing the smile still on his face. Jake would have been irritated sitting outside a dressing room for so long, but Liam is completely unbothered. He looks like there’s nowhere else in the world he’d rather be.
I grin back at him before disappearing into my own dressing room and changing into a silky black dress with a floral design. It hugs my curves in the right places, but the neckline is draped. It looks effortless, as if I’m interested in looking good but in no way trying to win back my ex-husband.
When I step out of the dressing room, Liam whistles. I feel light-headed and free as he motions for me to spin in a slow circle. I do, covering my face in mock embarrassment when Deja comes out of her own dressing room and imitates Liam’s whistle.
“Damn, Mom, you look good.”
“Thank you.” I stand in place and look at the dress in the mirror. “I think this is the winner.”
