AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She surveyed her reflection in the mirror critically before answering. I felt Mrs. St. James’s gaze on me, but I kept my eyes fixed on Sissy.
“You’re right.” Sissy turned abruptly from her reflection, stepping down with Charlene’s help. “It’s not the dress.”
A collective sigh of relief rippled across the couch as she headed back toward the dressing rooms.
“Well done, Sutton,” Mama whispered, shooting me a quick wink.
I spent the next two hours alternating between answering work emails, engaging in stilted conversation mostly about the wedding, and a seemingly endless parade of white material that I had to take pictures of for Sissy to send to Skye. Around the sixth dress, it became abundantly clear that Sissy’s motto about wedding dresses was “the tighter and more revealing, the better.” I lost count of the number of times I’d caught Mrs. St. James clutching her imaginary pearls. Mama finally gently suggested that Sissy try on some of the dresses Mrs. St. James and Charlene had pulled for her.
It was the twelfth dress that had everyone leaning forward with tentative, hopeful smiles. The dress was a surprisingly simple, mermaid style gown in smooth satin. Its sleek lines were broken only by a long sleeve lace overlay across the shoulders. While it was much more modest than the previous eleven dresses, it still clung to her body like a second skin, and the lace overlay drew your attention to her chest.
“Oh, Sissy,” Mama breathed out, standing to walk a full circle around her.
“You look stunning,” Mrs. St. James said from the couch.
“I think this might be the one.” Sissy smoothed her hands down her hips. “Sutton, take some pictures of me in front of the mirror so I can see it from every angle.”
I hopped up obediently, taking her phone and snapping away while she directed me where to stand and how to angle the camera for the most flattering shots. The pleasant buzz from my coffee was in full effect, so I didn’t even mind playing photographer — especially when it meant we might be done. I was getting hungry and running out of ways to entertain myself without spending an obnoxious amount of time on my phone.
“Do you think we could get rid of some of the lace? I’m also thinking maybe a cutout here,” Sissy gestured to the center of her chest. “Or we could just lower the neckline...”
Sissy trailed off as they walked back to the dressing room for — hopefully — the last time, leaving Mama and Mrs. St. James sitting in confused silence. They didn’t seem to know whether to be relieved or concerned, her parting comments to Charlene probably tilting the scale heavily toward concern. A jingle made all three of us turn to the front door just in time to see Macon and Holden cross the threshold. My stomach shot up to my throat before plummeting violently to my toes.
“Perfect timing!” Mrs. St. James called out, rising to give each man a peck on the cheek in greeting. “Sissy just finished trying on dresses.”
Macon’s smile stretched wider. It made me want to hurl.
“Oh yeah? How’d it go?”
“It went well. I think she might have found her dress.”
“But don’t ask us for any more details,” Mama interjected, shaking her finger good-naturedly at him. “It’s a surprise until the wedding day.”
Macon greeted Mama, placing a kiss on her cheek. Holden stood off to the side, hands in the pockets of his jeans, the position stretching his black sweater tight across his chest. The two men were a study in contrast even when it came to their clothing. Whereas Holden was all dark jeans and dark sweater, Macon wore a sky-blue button up, the sleeves casually rolled up to his elbows, and a pair of light jeans that looked worn at the knees in an endearing way.
“It’s good to see you, Sutton.” Macon smiled at me. Holden stared, his face an indecipherable mask.
“You too,” I said. “It’s — ”
“Babe!” Sissy yelled, walking into his open arms. I fought a cringe at the display of affection. “You two can head back to the dressing rooms. Charlene has your suits ready for you to try on.”
With only a few half-hearted grumbles, the two made their way back to where Charlene was waiting for them.
“The tuxes look amazing. I can’t wait to see them on,” Sissy gushed. She squeezed into the small spot between Mama and me, practically shoving me into Mrs. St. James’s side. I gave her an apologetic smile, wishing I had more booze-coffee or that a tiny, non-destructive fire would break out and clear the shop. Whichever.
Fortunately, changing into a suit was not as time-consuming as getting into a gown, and the men were stepping out from behind their respective curtains no more than ten minutes later.
Sissy clapped, letting out a squeal of excitement as they approached the couch. “Those are perfect!”
Charlene walked around them, measuring tape draped over her shoulders and pin cushion in hand.
“They really are. I don’t think they’ll need much alteration at all.”
She wasn’t wrong. The suits looked like they had already been tailored to fit each man. I watched quietly as the four women circled the two men like vultures pointing out areas that might need taken in or let out.
Suddenly, the reality of the situation hit me, almost knocking the breath from me with the force of it. Sissy was going to marry Macon. She was going to walk down the aisle to where he stood wearing that tuxedo and watching her with love written all over his face. The minister would say some pretty words, and then they would be married. Sissy would be his wife. She was going to live my greatest teenage dream, and I would have to stand beside her pretending to be happy while she did it.
I cleared my throat, trying to force back the emotions churning wildly and flooding my eyes. I didn’t love Macon, obviously, but Ihadloved him. I had loved him in that fierce and desperate way only invisible teenage girls can love someone, and that dream had kept me going for so long — just the hope of it.
