A flash of blue catches my eye, a hue just a bit lighter than the color of the ocean. I flip through the dresses until I find it. It’s part of a slinky little silk number, classic and elegant.
My fingers grace the fabric of the dress and I smile at the way it slips between my fingertips. I think this shade would be perfect. I’ll match Charlie, but it won’t look like I’m trying too hard to fit into the wedding party since it’s all dark blues according to Charlie. It’s perfect, I think.
“Do you want to try that on?” Tessa says, startling me.
“Yes please,” I say, forcing a small smile as my heart settles. I haven’t even looked at the price tag.
I really should take a peek before trying it on. Sometimes I fall in love a little too easily. But Tessa is already whisking it off to the fitting rooms. I follow behind her, to the back of the store. My brows raise when I see that the fitting rooms are the same size as the rest of the store, with good lighting and a gorgeous tufted ottoman in the center of the room and bar in the corner. Wow… this place is fancy. Someone put some real thought into the layout of the store.
“Right through here,” Tessa says, gesturing to the stall and hangs my dress on the copper molded hook.
“Grace, are you in here?” Diane says, her voice reverberating off the stall walls.
“I’m right here,” I answer back all sing song like, putting my purse down in my own stall and locking the door while staying positive.
“Oh, good. Okay, I’m trying stuff on. You’ll tell me if it makes me look fat, right?”
“Of course,” I call out, grateful we’re the only two back here.
I know damn well Diane just wants her skinny ass complimented, she never looks fat in anything and I tell her as much. She only laughs in response.
I wriggle out of my sweater and shuck my skinny jeans. Unzipping the back of the dress, I glance at the tag but refuse to actually look at it before slipping the dress on over my boyshort panties and bra. I zip it up, reaching behind me and wiggling a little to get it all the way up.
My eyes travel the length of the mirror in the stall. Even barefoot, there is no doubt this dress looks amazing. I step closer, admiring the sweetheart construction. The dress is short sleeved and falls mid-thigh. It looks…
Damn. I’m afraid to really look at the price tag, because I have to get this dress. It’s flattering in all the right ways. Charlie’s never seen me in something like this. I can only imagine what he’d think.
I turn to the side, putting my hand on my stomach. My flat stomach. I imagine how it would look to be carrying a baby and watch my shoulders slump.
Shake it off, I warn myself. Shake off the negative thoughts!
It’s funny, I always thought that I would be a mom, with three or four kids hanging off me at all times. In the past, whenever I pictured my future self, I always saw children with me.
I did everything I was supposed to do. I concentrated on school, and once I earned my degree, I got a good job. But somewhere along the way I missed the step where I just magically find a partner to share it all with, and who celebrates with me when I find out I’m pregnant.
Now, as I look at myself in the mirror, and for all my accomplishments, all I can see is what I lack. I can’t look at myself and smile, because I know that there’s a very good chance I’ll end up childless. And if I eventually find Mr. Right, I can’t give him kids. Oh my God these hormones have come out of nowhere.
I try to talk myself down from the crazy ledge I’ve put myself up on, but it’s impossible. I turn just as Diane knocks at my door before trying to whip it open.
“What are you doing? Come look. I don’t know about this one…” Diane says from behind the door. “I think I’m going to just pass.”
Meanwhile, I’m trying to ignore the prick of tears at the back of my eyes, trying not to think of how cute baby shoes are, how I’ll never have a reason to assemble the antique crib that my mother gave me.
I’m silently freaking out, and totally ashamed of it. It’s only when Diane knocks on the fitting room door again that I’m able to pull myself together.
“Come look at this one,” she begs me. “I think this is the one.”
I wipe at my eyes and step out.
“That dress is gorgeous,” she immediately replies staring at it as I walk out. Deep breath in. I do love this dress and it would be perfect. “Do you think they have it in my size?”
I frown. “For the wedding?”
“Yeah, I freaking love that dress.”
“I think I’m going to get it,” I answer her in a tone that signifies, hey, this one is mine.
“Oh. Are you sure?” she questions.
Taking another look in the mirror in front of us, this one far larger than the one in the fitting room, I nod. “Yes.”
“Ugh. Okay. Well, what do you think of my outfit?”
She twirls in a circle. She’s wearing a two-piece dress that shows off her mid drift made of a deep read twill.
“Beautiful,” I answer honestly. “Not everyone can pull that off.
She blows out a breath. “Is it right for a wedding though?” she questions and I honestly wouldn’t think so but I only shake my head mildly. I’m not sure I’d wear something with my midriff showing but I do think it’s a laidback wedding and I really don’t ever show my midriff.
“This shop doesn’t have anything cute anyway.” Diane’s response shocks me as she walks off. She disappears back into her changing stall, and I do, too.
“Hey, are you ready? I think I want to stop at the food court before we go, get a sugar-free, fat-free froyo.” Diane’s voice is so full of happiness.
“Uh, just a second,” I call out. I unzip the dress. “I’ll be right there.”
“Okay. I’ll be looking at the jewelry.”
I put the dress back on the hanger, listening to her footsteps fade as she leaves the fitting room area, then take a deep breath. I stare at the dress for a long moment, knowing that I won’t find anything nearly as perfect anywhere else.
And I’ll match Charlie. I’ll look good next to him in this dress, like I belong with him. I’ll look like I could be his real girlfriend instead of a pretend one.
I shimmy back into my jeans and sweater, then consider the dress once more. It only takes one more look at the dress before I scoop it up and head for the register.
They did offer credit card applications after all. So the dress is mine along with a new shiny store credit card I’ll never use again.
Charlie
My eyes drift to the entrance of the bar like they’ve done all night. I’m waiting for her. I’m eager for that shy smile to greet me and to watch her walk those sweet curves through the doors. I’m ready for Grace to act like she’s not affected by me, as all the while that blush creeps up to her cheeks.
Checking the clock again and clearing my throat, the faint itch in my throat that’s nagging me does nothing but irritate me.
I’ve been waiting all night. She’s usually here by now. I’m not used to these nerves or waiting on anyone. Not like this.
The faint hum of the televisions behind me and the chatter in the bar keep me company as I go through paperwork, while sitting at a table. James is back on bartending duty. Occasionally, I peek over my shoulder, checking on him and propping my feet up on the chair across from me, trying to relax. Acting like this is any other night.