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“I’ve already spoken to my mother about our littlemishapyesterday,” Brad continues. “She’ll help you get in and out of the dresses. Not only will that keep yourinjurieshidden, but it’ll allow you to surprise your mother with each new dress. You want that, don’t you?”
His tone leaves no room for argument so I say the only thing I can.
“Sure, Brad.”
The words leave a bitter taste in my mouth. I consider myself a good person, but I’d give anything to be strong enough to pummel him. I’m gonna bide my time until a solution presents itself, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to walk down the aisle and tie myself to this man for the rest of my life.
“Have a great day shopping. Remember, no price is too high for my new wife,” he says before ending the call.
The woman at the first shop has five options pulled for me to try on. As if on cue, Mrs. Coventry steps up and offers to be the one to help me. Once we’re in the dressing room, she faces me.
“Put a smile on your face,” she scolds in a commanding tone. “You’re a bride, smile and act like one. I’d hate to give Brad a bad report of your behavior.”
“I’m doing the best I can,” I counter.
“Let me give you some advice,” she says a little gentler. “Brad is a very determined young man. He always gets what he wants no matter the cost. His father is the same way. Be a good girl and do what he expects, and you will have no cause for worry.”
Sadness fills her eyes, but she quickly masks it. I wonder how long it was before she found out Mr. Coventry was a monster.
The day drags on and by the fourth dress shop, I’m ready to throw my hands in the air and call it a day. Every dress Brad chose has been old-fashioned and downright ugly. He picked the brightest white he could, each with tons of lace and material that weighs down my short stature. The white makes my skin look sickly and translucent. I really should have an off-white or cream-colored dress.
I attempt to convince Mom, but she insists that Brad’s selections are lovely. Mom and Mrs. Coventry ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ over every dress I try on, but I manage to convince them I haven’t found one that screamsThis is the one!
How can any of them be ‘the one’ when I don’t want to go through with this marriage?
“Can we go to that wedding boutique in Boulder City?” I ask as we leave shop number four. “Brad told me he thought they had some I’d really love.”
“That’s a good idea,” Mrs. Coventry agrees. “That’s the final boutique he gave me so hopefully you’ll find what you’re looking for.”
I silently pray on our way to Boulder City for God to help me out of this situation. I thought I loved Brad but was fooled by his charm. I know I won't survive if I tie myself to him, and divorce is prohibited in our church. My parents are dismissive of my concerns, so I'm at a loss on how to get out of this mess.
My thoughts are interrupted when Mom announces that we’ve arrived. I was so engrossed I didn’t even realize the car had stopped. When we walk into the shop, we’re immediately greeted by an over enthusiastic employee.
“Good afternoon,” she says, bouncing from one foot to the other. “How can I help you today?”
“My son, Brad Coventry, called and asked for a few dresses to be set aside for Violet Simpson,” Mrs. Coventry explains.
“Oh, my goodness, yes. I’m Laura.” She holds her hand out to me. “You must be Violet. Pleasure to meet you.”
I shake her hand and briefly glance around. I have to admit, there are a lot of beautiful dresses. One in particular catches my eye. It’s a beautiful champagne mermaid gown with off-the-shoulder draped lace cap sleeves.
Laura hones in on what caught my attention. “Would you like to add that one to the four your fiancé picked out?” she asks.
Before I can respond, Mrs. Coventry speaks up. “That won’t be necessary. I’m sure the ones that Brad picked will be more than acceptable.”
I start fidgeting with the hem of my shirt before Mom discreetly pokes me in the side, causing me to yelp. Pain immediately engulfs my side, and it takes all my strength not to bend over and cradle my ribs.
“Ow… I mean, no, but thank you.” I smile, hoping no one notices.
“Oh… okay, well, why don’t we head into the dressing room, Violet?” Laura grips my elbow firmly but gently to guide me, her friendly demeanor slipping. “Why don’t you ladies go over there and have a seat in the viewing area? We’ll be right back.”
Mom heads over to the veil section and starts shuffling through them.
“I think Violet will prefer it if I help her.” Mrs. Coventry steps in front of us. “She’s very shy and isn’t used to anyone but family seeing her naked,” she whispers to Laura so Mom can’t hear. She forces a smile. “Plus, we like to guess how her mom will react.”
“I’m sorry, but that’s not possible. We don’t allow family members into the rooms with the brides. Our inventory is quite expensive, and we don’t want to risk any damage. Store policy… I’m sure you understand,” Laura states.
“Well, that’s unacceptable,” Mrs. Coventry sputters. “I’d like to speak to the manager.”
