What Her Dad Doesn't Know(26)
“Alright.”
Mom looks dubious, but opens the door to the boutique anyways. The space is modern and airy, with exposed ductwork and pipes painted black. The walls of the store are painted cream, and there’s a cozy sitting area with magazines and a coffee bar.
“Hi,” a pretty brunette says at the counter. It’s made of glass and filled with different types of jewelry for the bride. It’s all a little too flashy for me. I’ve always been a pretty simple person, and I hope that we’ve come to the right place.
“We’re here to find a dress for my daughter Noelle,” my mom says. She gestures to me with a hand. “I think our appointment is with Alexandra. She’s going to be a bride in March and we’re in dire need of a dress.”
“I’m Alexandra,” she says. She’s wearing a neat black pantsuit, and her makeup is understated. Her hair is tied back in a sleek ponytail. I hope that means she’ll understand my style too. She comes around the counter and shakes our hands, then looks up and down at me critically.
“Well it’s definitely cutting it close, but I think you’ll fit into most of our sample sizes. That’ll definitely help. Do you have any pictures or a Pinterest page with what you’re looking for?”
“I only know what I don’t want,” I say with a shake of my head. “Nothing princess-y. No long sleeves. And I don’t think I want anything that’s too glittery. Something unique would be nice too.”
“You’ve come to the right place,” she replies with a big smile. “I’ve been in this industry for almost fifteen years and I’ve never had a disappointed bride. Why don’t you come this way and we’ll get you settled in while I pull some dresses to start.”
We walk deeper into the store. Today it’s quiet, but I see that there are at least 4 changing rooms for brides-to-be. A girl stops sweeping up when she sees us and asks us if we want champagne or something to drink. I can’t even imagine drinking alcohol right now. Alexandra returns a few minutes later trailing a bunch of gowns.
“Ready?” she says, opening up one of the changing rooms.
I take a deep breath and follow her. I’m already tired just looking at all the gowns I’m going to try. And there are a lot: A-lines, mermaids, ballgowns, sheaths. Rhinestones, pearls, lace and beading. My head spins with all of the choices. But all of them feel just too much for our outdoor wedding. It is almost one o’clock now and we aren’t even close to finding what I want. I’m ready to give up. Poor Alexandra wilts from the effort of tying up and pulling down a million gowns. My stomach growls, and I know that I need to eat something because I’m feeling faint.
“Just one more,” she tries. “I think you’ll find it perfect.”
I’m doubtful, but I agree to try one last one. She pulls it out of the protective cover. It’s a gorgeous column of ivory silk, flowy and simple. There are two delicate spaghetti straps that hold it up, with just the tiniest amount of beading on them. I pull it on and let it drop down. The fabric skims my breasts and hips, hugging in all the right places, and draping delicately across my chest. I turn and gasp. The back is low, almost non-existant, and the straps gather together beautifully in a bow. I already know Andrew will love to tug it loose and let the dress fall. It’s definitely too long by almost a foot even in my heels, but nothing that an alteration can’t easily fix.
“It’s lovely,” I breathe, twirling around in the mirror.
Alexandra opens the door of the changing room and I follow her out. The material swishes around my legs as I step up onto the pedestal. I look beautiful. I turn towards my mom and I can see there are tears shimmering in her eyes.
“What do you think mom?” I ask.
“It’s the one,” she says, standing up from the sofa. “It’s the one.”
“There’s a sash here too if you’d like. Let me get that, and maybe a veil,” Alexandra says cheerfully. She scurries off to grab things and my mom and I smile at each other.
“Noelle,” she says quietly. “You look like a bride.”
“I do. I think this is the dress for me. Do you think... Do you think that dad will have forgiven me by then?”
She pauses, thinking hard. Finally she takes my hands.
“I want to tell you something Noelle. Back when I was young, when I first met your dad, my parents didn’t approve of him either. He was a soldier, and the Gulf War wasn’t all that long ago at the time. He could get deployed and I’d be all alone. We would have to move around to various bases if we wanted to be together. It wouldn’t be, and still isn’t these days, easy to be a military wife. My parents thought that I could do better. But you know, your father made me happy. We were in love. And over time, my parents understood.”