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I extended my leg underneath the table, gently touching my calf to hers. She smiled across the booth at me.
And though I was glad she could share her smiles, I wanted more. I hoped she would let me behind her walls.
Forty-One
April
Sadie saidthe best place in town to shop for dresses was this store at Emerson Shoppes called Vestito. So, after school on Wednesday, we hit the store, hoping they would have something that fit us. Otherwise, we’d have to go to LA and hope we could find something in a specialty store that carried plus sizes.
We had about an hour to shop before the center would bring Dad home, so we were on a mission. As we walked up to the store with its curly-lettered sign, I saw Sadie and Harini out front. Instead of the paint-splattered overalls Harini usually wore, she had on tan linen pants and a floral button-down T-shirt. But her Birkenstocks carried her trademark paint stains. And instead of her school uniform, Sadie had changed into jeans and a T-shirt like me.
When we reached them, I said, “Mom, this is Sadie and her mom, Harini.”
Harini reached out, taking Mom in a hug. The way they instantly hit it off, chattering about the store and the dance, I could have sworn they were long-lost best friends.
Sadie and I walked in behind our mothers, and I muttered, “Are you ready for this?”
She shook her head. “I would go to the dance in this if I could.”
I laughed, mostly because I agreed. Shopping in a bigger body was a special form of torture. Even if something looked good on the rack, there was no guarantee it would actually be flattering on my body. Not to mention that sizes were never consistent across brands. I could be a twenty in one store and a twenty-eight in another. And squeezing something on over my curves or not being able to pull up a pair of pants over my thighs made me feel horrible every time.
Luckily, my mom had a great eye for these things. She usually bought my cuter clothes online and returned the ones that didn’t work, but we didn’t have time for that now.
Mom led the way into the store, showing racks upon racks of dresses in all colors, styles, and materials.
“I actually like having a uniform so I don’t have to worry about shopping,” I admitted to Sadie.
“Let’s celebrate this being over with milkshakes?” she suggested.
“I’m game.”
A saleswoman in a knee-length black dress approached us and smiled warmly. “Can I help you ladies?”
Mom adjusted her purse over her shoulder. “We’re looking for homecoming dresses for our daughters. Can you show us the plus-size section?”
I half expected the woman to take us to a different part of the store, hidden away from all the straight-size shoppers, but she brought us to a long row of dresses right near the front.
Harini reached out to touch a shiny blue fabric. “This selection is amazing.”
“We try our best to make sure all of the girls and women around here have what they need.” The woman clasped her hands in front of her. “Would you like some help picking out a few styles for the girls, or are you just browsing today?”
I spoke up. “We’ll look on our own.”
“Great,” she said. “I’ll set up some dressing rooms for you two and bring the mamacitas some champagne.”
Mom raised her eyebrows at Harini. “Are we in heaven?”
Harini laughed. “Pretty close.”
I smiled at the two women. This was a side of my mom I hadn’t seen in so long, her making friends and joking with someone other than me in stolen moments of the day.
Sadie walked toward the end of the row, flipping through the gowns, and I started a little farther down. Sadie said she wanted something simple, probably black, and I pulled out a midi-length dress with sheer sleeves. “Sadie!”
She stared at it, a small smile on her lips. “I never thought I’d like a dress.”
I laughed, pulling it down from the rack. “We’ll add this to the pile then.”
Sadie held it in her arms as we continued searching, grabbing different dresses to try on. When our arms were so full we couldn’t carry any more, we went to the dressing rooms.
