thought you were going dress shopping?”
I laugh. “I am.”
“How many dresses have you tried on?”
My stomach clenches. “None,” I say almost like a question.
“Are you feeling okay?”
I pat down my jeans. “Yes, I’m fine. We’re waiting on getting a fitting room.” I breathe out slowly.
“Is there a long line or something?”
“No, we—” I laugh. “Actually, Brianna is hunting down someone right now.”
“All right, well if you have to wait much longer maybe you should find a different store.”
“No way. I have a pile of dresses here. I can’t just abandon them. I’ll see you for dinner, okay?” I glance up and see Brianna approaching.
“Yes, be prepared to have all your taste buds awakened.”
I let out a giggle. “That sounds like a promise.”
“It is. See you soon.”
Brianna halts in front of me with a big smile. My eyes leave her face and eye the two flutes in her hands. I let out a giggle and hop up. Yes. She found the champagne. One of the reasons we had checked off this spot was the assurance of champagne-assisted dress shopping. What could be better than liquid bubbles while feeling all bubbly inside?
Our glasses clink. “Congrats, Lauren, I’m so excited for you.”
My chest tightens. “Aww, thank you, Bri.” We reach in for a hug and a bit of champagne sloshes out of the glass. I gasp.
Whoosh, nothing on the dresses.
A throat clearing breaks my wave of relief. “Excuse me.”
“Lauren, this is Mariska. She is going to be your assistant today.” Brianna nods and takes a sip of her champagne.
“Hi.” I glance at Brianna. I thought she had wanted to be my one and only assistant. Ha! She has been making several comments, fishing for details about when I was going to ask someone to be my maid or matron of honor. I don’t want to deal with this issue yet. My shoulders slump and my stomach rips into shreds thinking about choosing between my best friend, Brianna, who I have known since freshman year of college, and my one and only sister, Megan, who asked me to be her maid of honor.
Megan is also forcing the question and has brought up the fact that she is probably more organized than Brianna (though I’m not sure this is actually true as Brianna is a very organized and successful real estate guru). But she did point out that Brianna has never planned a wedding, whereas Megan has so she has that on her, but then again Megan asked me to be her maid of honor and I had no wedding planning experience either, so we are back at square one. I know I can’t do the whole “I have a matron and a maid of honor” because neither one of them would go for that, nor do I really want to do it. I need to choose. But who? They both mean so much to me and in such different ways.
I take a sip of the perfect celebration solution. The bubbles from the champagne pop around inside my mouth and slide down my throat. That definitely wakes me up. Mmm, this is tasty. I’m ready to find my dress.
“So vat kind of dress are you wanting? Mermaid? Sweetheart? Princess?” Mariska is staring at me like she has me figured out before I tell her.
“I’m not sure. We’ve got this stack here to begin with.” I nod in the direction of the pile of dresses.
“Okay, I see.” Mariska lifts the dresses off the chair as if I’ve laid them on pile of dirt and marches towards a dressing room.
“So who was that on the phone? Megan?” Brianna tosses her hair over her shoulder.
“No, it was Jack.” My cheeks heat. I almost want to skip this whole dress-shopping event and just be with him. Except, I’m on a mission. A mission from Venus… I am woman, hear me roar and see me find the perfect dress. I laugh. Despite my confidence, I am a bit worried that I won’t find the right one. Or worse—that I’ll pick the wrong shade of white and I’ll look horrible in all my wedding photos and everyone will say, “Such a lovely wedding…what happened with your photographer? They didn’t seem to catch you in the right lighting.” But everyone else will look great because they are in the right shade for their skin tone. I shudder.
“Hey, are you okay? You’re not freaking about this, are you?”
“No.” I glance to the side and then back to Brianna. “Maybe a little. I don’t want to pick the wrong dress.”
“Ah hello, who are you with? Do you think I would let you be in anything other than the perfect wedding dress?” She shakes her head as if she is able to shake off all of my worries.
“I know. But there are so many dresses.” My eyes strain as I gaze at the rows.
“Hey, it’s okay. Mariska is a gold star employee per her badge.” Brianna winks at me. “And besides, you don’t have to decide on your dress today. This is just the first trial run.”
I nod. Trial run… I don’t like the sound of that when picturing my wedding in any regards.
“Follow me.” Mariska is motioning with her hand for me to follow her down the corridor of fitting rooms to begin the first round of me and wedding dresses. I’m worried. I’ve never tried on a wedding dress before. I guess this is a good thing. But I’m nervous. What if I look horrible in all shades of white? Or what if I pick a dress that is horrible for my figure? I swallow hard and enter the dressing room.
“Okay, go ahead and undress.”
My eyes bulge. I glance at the door to give Mariska her cue to give me privacy. She doesn’t move.
“Um, I think I can handle the first round on my own.”
“This is your first time, yes?”
“Yes.”
“You cannot put on a wedding dress on your own. You need help getting it on and taking it off. This is the purpose of the wedding dress. It is a partnership.” She nods at me to begin removing my clothes. I take off my jeans and my blouse. Mariska has her back turned to me as she unfastens the first dress from the hanger and prepares it on her arms to bring over my head.
“Ready?”
“Yes.” I hide my laughter at her using Jack’s favorite word. He has been using “ready” to progressively move our relationship forward and here I am in a bridal shop and it’s the one word the consultant is asking me.
The white chiffon mixed with a pearly brocade slides over my head. I stick my hands in through the armholes and Mariska buttons up the back. I stare at myself in the mirror. I look so different in this dress. Like a bride.
I’m going to be a bride. My chest splinters into a zillion different emotions.
“How do you feel?” Mariska cocks her head to the right and inspects my face.
“I’m, like,
