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"You're going to be a perfect bride,” Jasmine said, her voice faltering. The light was gone from her eyes. I blinked twice, our signal for “help me” as she stood frozen in place by the sheer horror of what I was wearing.
This dress was a disaster. It was ten pounds of octogenarian lace and petticoats, with the mothballs to prove it. The high neck reached up under my throat, applying suffocating pressure to my esophagus. My ability to breathe was not helped by the corset, which dug into each individual rib. I didn't expect today to be the day I learned that ghosts could have sweat stains.
While I loved a good vintage fabric, a century and change did a number on even the heartiest materials. The skirt ballooned like a parachute, rendering it impossible to make my way through most modern doorways. I was trapped. My organs were being squeezed in seven different directions, and there was no escape. The back of the dress was an endless barrage of stubborn buttons. I looked like a mummy who decided to get really into haute couture. Any sane person would see this dress as a fucking disaster.
"You look like a princess!” Mother cooed.
A staff member walked by, offering glasses of champagne. Jasmine grabbed two flutes and handed one to me. I was prepared to chug mine in one gulp, but Mother stopped me.
“This dress can’t be around fizzy liquids! It’ll dissolve the lace!” she cried.
“Mother, how am I supposed to get married in this dress if I can’t eat or drink in it? What about the reception?”
“You’ll have a second dress to change into at the reception. I was hoping you could keep this one on, but it’s not thermodynamically possible,” my mother relented—finally, a silver lining. At least my organs wouldn’t be trapped all night long.
"It's a beautiful gown and fits you perfectly," Jasmine was lying through her teeth.
“It’s certainly unique,” Julia quipped.
“It’s gorgeous.” My mother said definitively.
The shop attendant hovered nervously in the background, “I’ll still need to add some more boning to the corset. The original whale bones dissolved a bit over time.”
I grinned. “Oh please, don’t kill a whale on my account,” I objected.
My mother swatted my wrist with her hand and glared in my direction.
“I’ll talk to my grandmother’s estate and see if there are any extra corsets.”
“That would be great, thank you.” The attendant helped me step off the podium. My skirts swished. It sounded like tumbleweeds rustling through the wild west.
“I can help you change,” the attendant offered.
“That’d be great.”
It took Jasmine’s Edwardian fashion expertise and the attendants’ decades of experience springing brides from dresses to get me out of the dress. I slipped back into my leggings and almost cried from relief, feeling the familiar soft fabric on my legs. I slipped my sweatshirt over my head and put my shoes back on.
Julia handed me a flute of champagne once I walked back out to the waiting area where she and my mother were sitting. Even though I wasn’t much of a drinker, I suddenly understood the stressors that drove people to alcohol. I took a hearty sip.
"I hope I can find a dress as pretty as yours when I get married," Julia said, doing her best to be comforting.
"I'm sure you will," Jasmine reassured her.
My mother glowed with pride. Her mission had been accomplished. By noting that my friends liked the dress, she could use that against me. Now, I was the crazy one. In my mother’s eyes, Jasmine and Julia thought the dress was fine, beautiful even. I was the one being an ungrateful brat.
Julia mused, "I didn't know you and Sebastian were that serious until you told me you were engaged. You’ve only been dating for six months. I swear, I’ve only seen you together around town a couple of times. You haven’t been out much since you got engaged, have you?”
Mother shot me a nasty look.
"Well," I cleared my throat and sipped the dregs of my champagne, "he's been busy lately with huge projects."
Julia frowned. "I hope he can start making time for you. I hardly go three days without seeing Anthony." Anthony was Julia’s college sweetheart.
Mother smiled a tight-lipped smile. "I'm sure he will. And I’m sure Rebecca will make time for him as well. You, ladies, know that all good relationships are two-way streets.”
I nodded and repressed the urge to vomit, glancing around the room at the other brides, who looked as if their dreams were coming true. When my father first suggested that Sebastian and I get engaged, he promised that my wedding would be the wedding of my dreams. It was starting to feel more like a nightmare.
After the bridal shop, Jasmine left for work. Julia went to grab lunch with her boyfriend leaving Mother and me to have lunch alone. It was the last thing I wanted to do, but Jasmine wouldn’t be able to come up with any fake crises when she was at work.
