That and the fact that Susie had threatened to kick her backside if she even dared to contemplate cancelling. Cherry had argued that a fancy-arsed party full of local GPs and surgeons wasn’t her scene, and Susie had almost given her an arse-kicking then and there, so she’d ended up buckling under her friend’s tirade and now here she was, combing through clothes in a hellish search for the right dress.
Maybe she should go in a pants suit, only most of the women would be in cocktail dresses, she supposed. Or so Maxie had told her.
Hell. In more ways than one.
Exiting yet another shop, she cringed as she spotted a tall, beautiful blonde walking towards her. Annabelle Forbes. Schooling her features into a smile, she took a deep breath and walked up the path towards her, only to have Annabelle give her a cold stare and sweep right past her.
Rolling her eyes, she turned into another dress shop, fully expecting to exit with nothing. Instead, she spied the dream of all dresses on a mannequin. It was beautiful, the material draping from the little straps on the shoulders to sweep down to the floor in a swath of delicate silk. It was black on both sides, from the straps down to the floor, with a pale lilac swath going from the bodice to the floor. A delicate, lacy throw lay over the shoulders.
Slimming, it would be slimming.
Heart in her mouth, she searched the rack, unable to believe it when her size was available. Going into the dressing room, she shed her pants and blouse and slid the gown over her head. It settled over her, draping to the floor. It skimmed her curves without clinging or bunching up.
Studying herself in the mirror, Cherry smiled. It was the perfect dress. Unbelievably, it was the perfect dress. She was still a plus-sized woman, but she looked classy, pretty, well-dressed. She loved it.
The price would normally have made her blanch, but she paid it without a qualm and left the dress shop with her brightly-bagged purchase swinging in her hand. When Annabelle stepped out of the dress shop next door, Cherry beamed at her, not even minding when the she raked her form with a not-quite sneering expression.
Nothing was going to spoil her day. She’d found the perfect dress and wasn’t going to embarrass Rick. For the first time in a long time, she felt sure of herself, confident.
Once at home, she couldn’t help but try on the dress once more, feeling almost like a fairy-tale princess.
Frizz and Sugar were more interested in the bag and only spared her a brief glance as she twirled in front of the mirror, looking over her shoulder to get the effect.
“You have no idea, you two,” she informed the cats. “You only have one coat and don’t have to worry about the fit.”
Frizz went back into the bag and lay down, leaving his ample bottom sticking out. Sugar swatted him and his tail lashed around. Sugar pounced on it and a wild game of tag involving the bag and Cherry’s blankets ensued.
Leaving them to play happily, Cherry searched her shoe box and found a gold pair of strappy sandals she’d worn to a wedding. Holding them up, she frowned. Gold with the black and lilac? Mmmm…maybe not. Another search produced a pair of medium-heeled black pumps with a lacy appearance, and she slipped them on. The hem of the dress was now about three centimetres off the floor. Perfect. She had a little black lacy-style clutch purse that would be ideal.
Taking the dress off carefully, she slid a clear plastic bag over it and hung it up in the wardrobe. Yes, for once she was actually looking forward to getting dressed up and going out. At least she wouldn’t embarrass Rick.
Humming to herself, she left the bedroom and went to make some salad for lunch.
~*~
Leaning back against the kitchen bench, Rick blew on the hot surface of his cup of coffee and watched his sister moodily eat a bowl of cereal.
Donna was glancing at her mobile phone where it sat in the middle of the table.
“Maybe David’s golfing,” he suggested.
She glared at him. “Why should I care?”
“Because you want him to phone you. Like always.”
“And just what do you mean by that smart crack?”
“You do this every time, Don. You get into a snit about something that David says, and you come to either my place or Mum’s to sulk until he rings and apologizes, or he comes looking for you.”
“If you don’t want me here…”
Refusing to rise to the bait, Rick raised one brow.
“I can always go to Mum’s.” She scowled at his grin. “You’re as big a jerk as David.”
“High praise from a lady who has been married for ten years to the same jerk.”
Donna flipped him the middle finger and he laughed.
The doorbell rang and he straightened, placing the coffee cup on the bench.
“Is that your new girlfriend?” Donna queried.