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“Well, don’t worry. I felt the same way, and I was married and settled when I had Toby. I think that might be normal.” She glances at the door across the garage that leads to the house and jerks her head. “Come on, let’s go back. We can tell everyone I was showing you outfit ideas for this weekend.”
We walk to the door and I catch my sister’s arm. Before she can pull away, I wrap her in a hug. “Thanks, Trina.”
She just smiles at me. “You’ll be fine. Trust me.”
Instead of comforting me, her words send a chill skittering down my spine. If it were just the baby I was facing, I’d believe her. I know I’ll love and protect my baby…it’s everything else that scares me.
Saturday comes around faster than I can blink, and I find myself in my apartment with my sisters and their friends. Every horizontal surface is covered in various bits of makeup, skincare, hair tools, and wine glasses. Simone is trying one of the dresses I vetoed, smoothing it over her curves as she takes a sip of wine. It’s a red dress with a keyhole neckline that shows a hint of scandalous cleavage, a form-fitting bodice, and a skirt that hits right above the knees. Way too sexy for a black-tie charity event, but it looks like dynamite on her.
Candice is doing dishes I hadn’t gotten around to this afternoon, and Fiona is lounging on my couch watching everything happen with Jen at her side.
Trina taps my shoulder to make me turn toward the vanity mirror again as she sections another piece of hair to curl. The dress I chose is hanging on the top of the door, the black velvet fabric looking luxurious even from a distance.
“There,” Trina says as she gives my hair a last spritz of hairspray. “We’ll let the curls cool, then we’ll brush them out. You’ll look like a goddess.”
“Question,” Candice says, evidently done with the dishes as she runs her hands over a sequined yellow gown lying on the sofa. “Why do you have so many formal dresses? What kind of events were you attending before you came here?”
Trina grins. “Not many, but I like pretty things. They come in handy in times like these.” She taps my shoulder and gestures to the dress. “Put it on. You got a strapless bra?”
I nod and make my way to the bathroom to change. The only strapless bra I own is a lacy black La Perla thing that cost an ex-boyfriend of mine far too much money—but it fits me like a second skin and makes my boobs look incredible. The pregnancy helps in that department too.
As soon as I put it on and look in the mirror, that same sick feeling of dread twists in my gut. I run my fingers over my chest and blink away a wave of emotion that threatens to make me cry. Can I blame that on the pregnancy hormones or on the terrifying issues that loom behind me like the grim reaper? I touch the lace edge of the bra, where the soft skin of my breast meets the fabric, and I close my eyes. I won’t be able to do that soon.
Shaking my head, I turn to the velvet dress. I will not ruin the makeup Trina just spent an hour putting on my face. I’m ten weeks pregnant, but thankfully not showing yet. When I slip the dress on, it feels like a second skin. The floor-length gown is inky black, the fabric thick and well-tailored. The straps are spaghetti-thin, but the dress is so well made that I’m pretty sure it’d stay up without them.
Looking at myself in the mirror, I gulp. I look…good.
For someone who’s spent a large part of her life living out of a suitcase, glamorous evenings like this don’t happen very often. I’m used to either being sweaty from plane or bus rides, or tired from walking around a new city for a day. When I work, I usually wear sweats and tees. A glamorous woman, I am not. And ever since I found out about the pregnancy and everything else going on, I’ve made even less of an effort.
The man who was supposed to be by my side walked away when he found out about the baby, and I’ve been hanging on by my fingernails ever since.
But this… Even if my date with Rudy turns out to be a total disaster, at least I can look at my forty-year-old self in the mirror and know that I look good.
When I open the door and walk out of the bathroom, the thigh-high slit at the side of the dress makes the fabric kiss my just-shaved legs.
A chorus of wolf whistles sounds in the room, which makes me blush and roll my eyes. Trina snaps her fingers and waves me over. “Let me finish your hair.” She brushes out the curls, puts a few pins in my hair, sprays it one last time with the bottle of hairspray that has to be nearly empty by now, then spins me toward the mirrored closet doors next to the entrance to my apartment.
“There,” she proclaims.
“Damn, Lily,” Simone says. “Rudy isn’t going to make it all the way to the event without ripping that dress off of you. I hope you have time to stop off for a quickie before dinner starts.”
I roll my eyes, but my cheeks flush. Ducking to my bedroom, I reach into the top drawer of my dresser and pull out one of the only pieces of jewelry I own. It’s a simple tear-shaped pendant with tiny diamonds studded all along the border. In the center is a larger pear-shaped sapphire of the darkest blue. The chain is white gold, which Trina helps clasp behind my neck as I hold up my dark hair.
“You carried Grandma’s necklace around the world with you, huh?” Candice asks, suspicious moisture gathering in the corners of her eyes.
I look at her in the reflection of the mirror and shrug. “What else would I do with it?”
Trina stands behind me, looking over my other shoulder, and the three of us stand in silence for a moment. Our father passed away nearly twenty-three years ago. Before he died, he gave each of us girls something from his side of the family. Candice got his mother’s engagement ring, Trina got beautiful dangly earrings, and I got this necklace. I’ve worn it a grand total of six times, and the chain rests against my neck feeling a lot heavier than it should.
I might not get many more chances to wear it, so I might as well have it on tonight. Who knows if I’ll ever attend a black-tie event again?
Fiona gives me an approving nod. “You look amazing. I approve.”
Then the apartment buzzer sounds, and butterflies explode in my stomach.
Rudy’s here.
CHAPTER 9
