“Do you think you’ll be able to help us?” Sam asks, fidgety. “She waited until the last minute,” she adds, giving Ali a face which only makes Ali give her a face back.
“Of course,” Monique responds, very seriously. “I have dresses on hand that will need to be altered, but I promise you, love,” she turns her attention from the photos to Ali, “you will fall in love with one of them and so will your mother.” The beam of a smile Ali returns and glistening of her eyes forces a wide smile from me too.
“Oh,” Sam responds, with a clap not unlike the one Ali had before introductions outside. “Well, alright!”
“Come, come. Let us get you started,” Monique says with a smile of her own. “The fitting room is right here. Marcus will be in with some champagne shortly.” I don’t know who Marcus is, but I could use that champagne. So at the moment, he is my hero in the making.
Ali beams, following Monique to an area behind a heavy pink brocade curtain and leaving us alone. The second, Ali’s gone I catch Lindsay looking at me, then she rolls her eyes and leans over to whisper to Sam. My body temperature drops as I look at Ellie, who gives me a sympathetic smile.
“I don’t know much about wedding dress shopping,” I say, fumbling for something to break the ice.
“Oh, me neither. My sister came here for her wedding dress, though,” Ellie talks to me easily. She runs her hand over her dark hair, which is up in a messy bun. “It’s nice. Monique is something else.”
“Yes this place is beautiful,” I agree.
A door opens on the far side of the room, and an older man comes in with a tray of glasses and a bottle of champagne. Oh, thank goodness. He doesn’t say much other than polite necessities. He simply pours the champagne into flutes and passes them out.
“Thank you,” I tell him, accepting the champagne gratefully. It’s sweet, and the bubbles tickle my tongue.
“Mmmm,” Ellie says. “Thank God for alcohol.”
“Yes, I was looking forward to this,” I say with a shrug to make my words seem casual. “So how do you know Ali?”
“Ali was my roommate during our first couple of years of college,” Ellie says.
“Ahh. I was wondering how you knew each other.”
Ellie smiles and sips her champagne. Before I'm forced to think of something else to say, Ali makes her first appearance.
She’s stunning, wearing a silky number that has a strappy back, a simple front, and clings to her hips. Oh my goodness. She’s a sight to see.
“Oooh, champagne!” she says, rushing to pick up her glass from where Marcus left the tray.
Her sip of champagne comes first and then she makes her way to the mirror, the dress gliding flawlessly. Without even standing on the pedestal, she pans the dress.
“Mmmm, no,” she says. “Monique is bringing more options. I just can’t see meeting at the altar in this... the straps remind me of like… bondage.”
I laugh, a soft feminine laugh. “If you say so. I think you look beautiful.”
“It’s beautiful,” Lindsay says. “Bondage or not.”
Ali sweeps over to the ottoman, perching beside me.
“I know all about these bitches,” she says, leaning closer to me. “But nothing about you, Grace. Tell me about yourself.”
“What do you want to know?” The small bit of tension that left with Ali’s joke comes back full force.
“I don’t know. Where did you grow up?”
“Here. I’m an Atlanta baby.”
“And your family? Big, small?” She asks another easy question.
“Small family. It’s just myself and my younger sister, besides my mom.”
“Did you go to college?” Ellie asks.
“I did. I went to Brenau University for one year, then I finished my degree at Rhode Island School of Design. I’m a graphic designer now.”
“You went to RISD?” Lindsay questions from across the room, disbelieving.
“Yeah?” I answer, uncertain. “I studied watercolor and oil painting along with graphic design.”
“I went to Savannah College of Art and Design,” she says. “I’m an interior designer.”
“Oh! That’s really cool,” I say. Small world.
“She’s also Charlie’s ex-girlfriend,” Sam announces, crossing her arms and one perfectly penciled eyebrow lifting.
Ali laughs in a way that shuts down Sam’s comment. “No, she wanted to be Charlie’s girlfriend. There’s a huge difference.”
I bite my lip, I am really not into this ex-girlfriend, current girlfriend animosity. Ali doesn’t seem to catch on to it. Which is good, since this is her day. Marcus was my hero before, this time it’s Monique. She pokes her head in to call Ali back. “Alianna, my dear. I have three more dresses for you to try on.”
“I’ll be back,” Ali says, winking to me. “Try not to get into any catfights.” The last comment is directed at Lindsay. Maybe Ali did catch on to it.
Without Ali here, the air is somewhat different. Although Ellie asks Sam about some promotion she was wanting to get. Sam didn’t hear back yet, but I tell her I hope she gets it. It’s only small talk, polite and fairly easy. I don’t make eye contact with Charlie’s supposed ex though.
It’s far too long before Ali makes her way back to us in a new gown, and I deliberately don’t look up. I’ll just sip my champagne, smile and ooh and ahh when I’m supposed to. Or at least I’ll try to.
Ali’s hips sway as she walks to the mirror. This one is pretty, but not as formal as the other one. It's sleeveless, dark cream lace with a cutout in the back. Ali’s face falls when she sees her reflection in the mirror.
Ali makes her way to the pedestal, turning this way and that. She faces us again. “What do you think?”
“Pretty,” Sam pipes up.
“Yeah, pretty,” Ellie says, nodding her head as her eyes travel up and down the gown.
“Not pretty enough, though,” Lindsay admits. Ali nods, subtly, but still looks to me for my opinion.
“I think I agree,” I say. “But it is pretty,” I add with a peppy voice just in case she likes it and I was wrong about the facial cues.
“Yeah,” Ali agrees, shoulders slumping. “All right. Cheer me up with some more details about yourself. Tell us how you met Charlie.”
“Oh, yeah!” Ellie says. “How’d you meet that hunk of man candy?” Her question forces a grin on my face. When the other girls look at her funny, she shrugs. “What? I can’t think that Ali’s brother is hot?”
The room fills with snickers.
“Okay,” I say, returning my attention back to Ali. “Charlie and I met because my friend Diane told me about his bar. She took me there for a drink, and one thing led to another…”
I leave it open-ended, hoping that their imaginations will be better than mine.
“When are you going to officially be his girlfriend?” Lindsay asks pointedly.
Her question is like a bucket of ice water to the face and I’m sure my expression reflects that. I’m quick to fix it, smiling back at her and shrugging. Before I can manage a response, Ali steps in.