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It might have been the whiskey Daddy put in my coffee, but I was genuinely feeling excited about dress shopping by the time we pulled into a parking space outside of Charlene’s Bridal Boutique. Sissy and Mama spent the ride talking about dress styles and color schemes, and there were a few rare moments where I even voiced my agreement with Sissy’s opinions.
I didn’t have Sissy’s, or even Mama’s, love of fashion and dressing up, but I did have an inexplicable love of wedding dresses. I had never given much thought to the details of a wedding other than the groom, but I had given a lot of thought to wedding dresses. I frequently binged old episodes ofSay Yes to the Dress,and while I suspected Sissy and I had wildly different ideas about dream dresses, I could rattle off gown designers with the best of them. I could pretend for one afternoon that I had a decent relationship with my sister and just enjoy the experience. This was going to be a good day, and I would enjoy spending time with Mama doing something she loved with her girls.
That attitude lasted approximately ten whole seconds — the same length of time it took to enter the boutique and spot Mrs. St. James sitting on a purple velvet couch in front of a wall of full-length mirrors with a pedestal in the center. Sissy’s spine stiffened, and a momentary flash of annoyance crossed her face so quickly that I almost missed it.
“Mrs. St. James,” Sissy beamed, her smile as fake as her words, “I’m so happy you could make it today after all. I hope we didn’t keep you waiting too long. Sutton has never been an early riser.”
It amazed me that Sissy still had to the ability to surprise me, but she was always finding new ways to manage it.
“She’s not wrong.” I turned to Mrs. St. James, prepared to take one for the team even if the team hadn’t hesitated to throw me under the bus. “I apologize. I did oversleep a little this morning.”
Mrs. St. James turned a magnanimous smile my way. “No need to apologize. I did say that I wouldn’t be able to make it this morning. Besides,” she said, turning her attention to Sissy, “it gave me a chance to peek at the dresses you ordered. I also had Charlene pull some dresses that I thought would look wonderful on you. I may have gotten a little carried away, but it’s not every day that I get to browse bridal gowns.”
My eyes ping-ponged between Sissy and Mrs. St. James. Despite the innocent-sounding words, it seemed clear — to me, at least — that she did not approve of Sissy’s choices. Judging by the slight tightening of Sissy’s smile, she had not missed the message either.
Seeming to sense the rising tension, Charlene clapped her hands. “I’m going to steal the bride so we can get her into a dress. I’m sure you’re just dying to start trying them on, Sissy.”
Sissy allowed Charlene to take her by the arm and guide her to one of the dressing rooms lining the back wall of the store. Near the rooms, a rack of formal dresses in bright colors stood out in stark contrast to all the shades of white that filled the rest of the space.
The three of us stood awkwardly and watched Sissy disappear behind the curtain. Mama broke the standoff, taking a seat at one end of the couch. Mrs. St. James followed her lead, taking a seat at the opposite end, leaving me only one seating option: being sandwiched between the two of them. I took a hearty drink of coffee and gingerly lowered myself into the open spot.
“I have to say,” Mama began, excitement radiating from every pore, “I’ve been looking forward to dress shopping since the day Sissy told us she was engaged.”
I leaned farther into the back of the surprisingly comfortable velvet couch, hoping that if I just reclined far enough I wouldn’t have to participate in this conversation.
“I can imagine — and you get to look forward to doing it twice.”
Mama reached over to pat my leg, giving it an affectionate squeeze. “Sutton is my independent girl — always has been. She’s never even brought a boyfriend home to for us to meet. She’ll probably elope and call us from the honeymoon.”
My responding laugh came out stilted. “That’s not true. I would at least call you from the aisle.”
It wasn’t that I hadn’t dated anyone or that I was ashamed of my parents. I just didn’t see the point in wasting everyone’s time with guys I knew were only temporary. I was happy being single. I was happy with who I was as a person, and I knew my own worth. I had absolutely no intention to settle for less than what I wanted or deserved. If I ever found someone I could see a forever with, I would have no problem bringing them home. My parents weren’t necessarily old-school, but it seemed to me that they enjoyed such a happy marriage, they couldn’t understand why anyone wouldn’t be in a rush to enjoy the same.
“What do you think? Don’t you love it?” Sissy’s voice called out as she stepped through the curtain Charlene was holding aside for her.
The dress was a form-fitting drop waist with a plunging sweetheart neckline. “Plunging” may have been an understatement — the deep V stopped just above her waistline. Its bodice was heavily beaded, and transparent all the way to the ruffled bottom.
I knew immediately that both mothers would disapprove.
“Oh, Sissy,” Mama exclaimed, scooting forward in her seat as Sissy stepped onto the pedestal.
“I know! Charlene said it’s so rare for a bride to fit in a sample size.”
“It’s true,” Charlene confirmed as she bent to adjust Sissy’s train. “It fits like a glove.”
I snuck a glance at Mrs. St. James. Her mouth was shaped into a smile but a small divot in her forehead gave away her true thoughts.
“It certainly fits you well,” she began diplomatically, tilting her head to the side as if she were considering the dress. “But don’t you think it’s a little...much for a church?”
“I agree. It’s a beautiful dress but there’s not much...” Mama waved her hand in the general area of Sissy’s body, and finally settled on, “coverage. You want to look like a bride, not a burlesque dancer.”
Sissy turned to face the mirror, turning left and right to admire herself from different angles.
“This is a Pnina Tornai gown, Mama. Pninaisbridal. Styles have changed since you got married. What doyouthink?”
Her eyes met mine in the mirror, and I was too stunned that she had asked my opinion to choose my words carefully.
“It’s absolutely gorgeous, but I don’t think it’s the right dress for you. Everyone’s attention would be on the dress, not you.”
