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She clears her throat, then schools her features, giving me a huge smile. “Well, then,” she says. “What kind of dress were you thinking? Is it a big wedding or more intimate?”
I can tell she’s judging me, either by my clothes or my age, though probably both. I decide I don’t care what she thinks. She has no idea what I’ve been through, and if she did, she would not be judging me right now, or maybe she would.
“It’s going to be smaller, just close friends and family,” Reese announces before she looks at me. “Do you like lace?” she asks.
“No lace,” I whisper.
“Chiffon or a satin, then,” she says to herself. The judgment is now gone, thankfully, as she thinks about what she has in stock. “How soon do you need it? To order, they can take months.”
“Off the rack,” Reese, Henli, and Kiplyn all say in unison.
“Off the rack,” the salesgirl murmurs. “Okay, over here,” she says as she moves through the boutique and walks over to a wall that is filled with dresses. They are smashed together on the rack. “I would love it if all of you picked one dress, then we’ll try those on and go from there to see what style you like best. Do you have a budget?”
Budget.
Money.
I didn’t even think about that. Oh my gosh. How could I have not thought about the money part of all of this? Sucking in a breath, I let it out slowly. But I have no answer. That’s when Henli clears her throat.
“There is no budget,” she replies.
I open my mouth, then close it, then open it again, but no words come out. I can’t imagineno budget. But I don’t say anything immediately. Instead, I stare at them as they all tug the hangers aside one by one, and then each pull out a dress, the salesgirl included.
“Your turn now,” the salesgirl announces as she turns her head and looks over to me.
Everyone kind of scatters out of the way as I tentatively take half a step forward, then another. Reaching out, I touch the plastic dress bag in front of me, feeling it between my fingertips. It’s not sticky, but it doesn’t feel thick and heavy. I pull it aside to look at the dress it holds.
There is an abundance of lace.
Wrinkling my nose, I tug it to the side to look at the next one. More lace. At the next one, I pause. There is no lace, no rhinestones, nothing. It’s plain, and I want to try it on. I take it off the rack, turn around, and realize I’m alone.
The salesgirl walks around the corner, appearing suddenly, and gives me a small smile. “That one?” she asks.
“Yes, I think so,” I murmur.
She slips it from my hand, then turns her back to me. She turns her head, her eyes finding mine from over her shoulder, and shoots me a smile. “Follow me to the dressing room.” Then she begins to walk.
I do follow behind her. One foot in front of the other as I wonder if this is the last true decision I’ll ever make in my life. It hangs over me, this future and the complete powerlessness I feel about it all.
Not that I’ve ever had any power.
I haven’t.
I have nothing.
I am nothing.
I never have and I never will.
She slips into a room, and I do the same right behind her. I haven’t asked her where the others are. I can hear their voices as they chat, so I know they are somewhere in the boutique. But I can’t look for them or worry about them right now because five wedding dresses are hanging in the dressing room staring back at me.
“Usually,” the salesgirl begins, “friends don’t necessarily pick something the bride would pick, but rather what they would want,” she says. “Except your friends. It seems as if they’ve all chosen something without lace. They listened.”
The way she says that they listened, it’s obvious she’s surprised and that it doesn’t happen often. She turns to one of the dresses and begins to unzip the bag. She moves slowly, I can hear every single tooth of the zipper opening, then she bends and takes the bottom of the dress out, fluffing it.
“This is my pick,” she says. “I figure we can start here and work our way down the line.”
It’s a beautiful dress with a small bodice. It poofs out at the waist, and judging by the hanger, it’s ahugepoofy skirt. I’m wondering if it’s going to be too poofy for such a small wedding, but I’m going to try it on. I’m going to try them all on, and then I’m going to choose one.
