“JESSA!” Sadie exclaims, clearly annoyed.
I let the two best friends bicker back and forth, while I admire the beautiful dresses. The memory of shopping for Jen’s wedding dress comes to mind. The fact we spent all day at a bridal shop similar to this one, only for Jen to decide she didn’t want any of them. We left, and she drove us to the mall. Grabbing the second white sundress she found on the rack, she bought her wedding dress for less than fifty dollars. My lips turn up remembering how we gorged ourselves on mall fries, pretzels, and Coke before getting our nails done.
The image of the one dress I remember seeing her in comes to mind. She was so gorgeous and elegant looking she could’ve been Cinderella. A form-fitting strapless beaded bodice that puffed out into layers of tulle and satin. When Jen stood on that center block in front of those three long mirrors, I was in complete awe. From that day forward, I dreamed of my wedding day. Not the church, the people, or big reception. I couldn’t wait to stand at the end of an aisle, wearing the princess dress and staring down at the man who would be my husband. The man who’d captured my heart and intended to keep it safe.
As Sadie ventures back into the fitting room with six new dresses to try on, I continue to search for a dress matching Sadie’s criteria while daydreaming about a dress most likely not in style anymore. I mean, Jen and Caden got married eight years ago and trends have changed. I need to focus on helping Sadie, so I push my dream dress back into its mental closet and keep skimming though the dresses.
Then about ten dresses later my jaw drops open. There it is, not the exact one, but almost identical. Too excited to think about anything else, I hurriedly unzip the bag and allow my fingers to brush against the elaborate beaded design.
“Try it on,” Jessa says, nudging me with her shoulder.
Snapping back to reality, I answer, “No, this is Sadie’s day.” My eyes fixate on the dress in my hands. My body is practically itching with the thought of slipping into it.
“She doesn’t care. You know you and Trey will be getting hitched sometime soon anyway.” She takes it from the rack and begins walking to the fitting rooms.
“Jessa!” I say, following after her.
“Excuse me,” Jessa taps the woman on the shoulder. The pleasant-as-pie assistant smiles nicely at her. “We need another fitting room.” She nods her head in my direction.
“No, we don’t really,” I argue back. The lady peers over at me and then back to Jessa.
“I’m terribly sorry, but it’s by appointment only. Those fitting rooms are reserved for other brides or bridesmaids coming in shortly.” Anyone can hear her curt and displeased meaning under her high pitched fake reply.
“It will only take a second. It’s one dress, one girl,” Jessa attempts to persuade her, but the lady shakes her head and apologizes. “All right then,” she says, grabbing my hand and leading me down the hall anyway. “Sadie!” She knocks on Sadie’s fitting room door.
“What?” Sadie calls out from the other side. You can tell she’s already expecting the worst from Jessa.
“Open the door.”
Sadie inches it open, half wrapped in a dress with her assigned assistant helping her button it up. “I already told you, I want something more sleek.” She points to the dress.
“It’s not for you, it’s for Kailey. You should have seen her eyes light up when she was staring at it.” Jessa pushes her way through the door with me in tow.
“I’m sorry, Sadie. I told her no.” I shake my head. The last thing I would want to do is take over a bride’s day. The way Sadie is with this wedding, she’ll hate me for it.
“You should know her by now, she doesn’t accept the word no.” Sadie laughs, scooting over. “It’s more than fine, Kailey. It’s gorgeous,” she remarks, looking at it through the mirror.
“Oh, Serena can be such a pest at times. She should have let you use one of the other fitting rooms,” Lily, Sadie’s sales assistant, whispers. “But, there’s more than enough room in here for all of us.” She genuinely smiles at us and continues buttoning Sadie up in a beautiful, flowing silk dress with buttons up the back.
“Strip,” Jessa says, and my shoulders slump.
“You sound like Trey,” I tease.
“Romance gone already,” she counters back and we all laugh.
“No, it’s just …” I don’t finish, but start taking off my clothes.
“You have a killer body, I’m so jealous,” Jessa remarks, blatantly staring at my almost naked body only covered up by my mismatched bra and underwear. If I would’ve known I would be getting naked in front of anyone but Trey, I would have put on my best matching satin set. Now a days, Trey probably doesn’t even see what kind of bra I’m wearing. With three kids under five, there’s limited time, so the motive is really just to remove it from my body.