in stock in size 8, there were only two dresses that were remotely possible. One of them was a violet-blue fluffy chiffon and the other was a rust-red silk dress with cap sleeves and hand-embroidered copper pearls on the bodice. Vera didn’t like the violet one; it was too much like a wedding dress. When Lovisa suggested cream-colored evening gloves to go with the red dress, Cissi thought that decided it. It was true that Vera was usually as shy as a wallflower, but if, for once, she was going to a banquet, why not show off her fantastic figure in the red dress? And it was a perfect color for her as well.
Fantastic figure? Vera shook her head and showed Cissi how the dress was too big across the bust.
‘No, that, that’s your…’ Cissi seemed to be searching for a word that was not too critical, and she lowered her voice, ‘nonexistent bra’s fault. We should have done that first – found proper underwear…’ Cissi turned to Lovisa.
‘Can we borrow it for a while today and check to make sure it’s right? You probably won’t need to make any alterations; the length is just right and it fits perfectly at the waist! What does it cost to hire it for the weekend for the banquet if she pays now and takes it without any alterations?’
Then Cissi’s cellphone rang; it was an indignant guy on the other end. Cissi waved at Vera to finish up the deal and she walked away towards the bridesmaids’ dresses as she talked into the telephone: she didn’t have time to come right now, but yes, she was downtown. Sure, they could meet if he wanted.
‘Was that your boyfriend?’ Vera wondered, as a sales assistant carefully wrapped up the red dress with the copper pearls.
‘Huh? No! God, no! That was just Freddie, my little cousin. He might show up later. But he’s okay for a 15-year-old.’
When they left the store with the party dress protected inside a large garment bag, Vera felt uncomfortable. She understood that the fortune she felt she had paid to rent the dress was actually a bargain price because of Cissi’s friendship with Lovisa, and it was a relief that the banquet problem was now solved. But if she had felt dressed up before, now it was full masquerade.
Vera didn’t have very much money left, so the miracle bra that was needed would have to be found at the big, low-price chainstore at the city mall. Cissi guessed that it would take a while, so she used the opportunity to try on clothes too. After about 20 minutes, when she still hadn’t found a single bra that fitted, Vera began to feel downhearted. Cissi came back with her arms full of clothes. She hung most of them over the door of the changing room next to Vera’s, but draped a few things over Vera’s door as well.
‘I couldn’t help myself. Try these on, I think you… What’s wrong?’ Cissi broke off when she saw Vera’s sad eyes.
‘Nothing fits.’ Vera let her arms fall to her sides and shyly revealed the bra she had tried on. Cissi studied Vera and the dozen alternatives that were hanging in the changing room.
‘Excuse me, is it okay if I…?’ Cissi fiddled with the shoulder strap and the strap across Vera’s back.
‘But, Vera,’ she said reading the label, ‘34A – are you sure about this? I think it looks too big. You have it fastened on the hooks farthest in and it’s still loose.’
‘A is the smallest they have,’ said Vera with a small voice.
‘Yes, yes, but it’s here that it’s too big!’ Cissi pulled the strap away from Vera’s back demonstratively.
Cissi went out to the underwear display and came back with several new bras. ‘I read somewhere that over half of Swedish women wear bras that are the wrong size. You should have 32B, or maybe even 30C; try these!’
‘But isn’t B for… well… a normal-sized bust?’ Vera didn’t take the garments that Cissi held out to her.
‘Yes, and C is large – for you. Geez! 32 or 34 inches around the body! You are slim enough for several people! You could easily share a little with me,’ said Cissi and smiled kindly.
‘Yeah, so shouldn’t I have 32A?’
Cissi’s phone rang again. ‘Nah, try these on; you’ll see.’
Cissi went out and answered the phone. Vera heard her describe where they were.
Cissi was right. These fitted much better. But most of the ones she had chosen were generously padded models that Cissi said were designed to ‘highlight her charms’.
What a strange expression, thought Vera. Who is this highlighting supposed to charm? A brief thought in Adam’s direction pained her. It seemed like an impossibility. Even when she stretched herself far beyond her comfort zone.
I don’t like surprises!
She broke out into a cold sweat. Suddenly she felt how much her knee ached and how tired she was. She sat down and rested a while, observing the stranger looking at her from the mirror. Vera closed her eyes and waited for the pain and nausea to subside.
‘It was Linus. Stupid asshole!’ a guy just outside the changing room said glumly. Vera started. Who is he talking to? He carried on complaining.
‘The teacher went, like, nuts, and now everybody has to write a whole fucking essay about love!’
‘Well, if you call somebody a whore, it’s good that the teacher reacts. I think what he did was exactly right!’ It was Cissi; she had come back with more clothes. Vera realized that the young guy with her must be cousin Freddie. He continued indignantly.
‘But, honestly! Otherwise – no class trip! And there’s no reliable stuff about love that you can pinch from the internet either! I checked – nothing!’
Vera sat and listened as Cissi tried to help Freddie, who was having a ‘mega crisis’, and a smile crept over her face. She and Cissi were so different, but there was still something that felt very familiar. Now Vera realized what it was. Cissi was a problem solver, just like she was. But Cissi had completely different knowledge and skills, and her repertoire of solutions seemed impressively broad. The least she could do was allow herself to be helped. Vera put on the long gloves and got up resolutely. She had guessed that the chocolate brown push-up bra would work but the question was: how would the rust red creation fit now?
The dress was surprisingly heavy with all the silk fabric and the embroidered pearls. Unexpected questions popped up in Vera’s head: Who sewed all these on? I wonder what her life is like? Vera managed to pour the silk over her head and down onto her body, and she got her arms into the dress. After trying unsuccessfully to bend her arms backwards and pull up the zipper, she realized that she needed help. She knocked lightly on the wall of Cissi’s changing room, went out through the swing doors, and turned her back to Cissi. Vera had glanced in the mirror and thought it looked promising; maybe it would work after all?
‘Well, look at you! Oh, hold up your hair!’ Cissi waited so that she wouldn’t catch the zipper in Vera’s chestnut-colored curls. Vera smiled and obeyed, and when Cissi pulled up the zipper she felt the dress settle perfectly across her hips and waist. When Cissi was finished Vera let down her hair and carefully twirled around once. Cissi smiled broadly and nodded in satisfaction, like a sculptress in front of her creation. Then Vera noticed that someone else was looking at her, and she looked in that direction.
At first he looked like an anonymous catalogue model in his relaxed dressiness: shirt hanging out, blazer, long
