The second my mom sees me, she gasps and covers her mouth. Her eyes instantly fill with tears. “Claire!” She jumps out of her seat and squeezes me in a hug. “Oh, Claire. You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe this day is finally coming!”
She pulls back and holds my shoulders, looking up and down at the dress. “Gorgeous. This is perfect.”
Something in my stomach twists. My mom issohappy, and usually that makes me happy, too. But I don’t have the same reaction to the dress, and my mom’s happiness is turning my stomach into knots.
“This is just the start,” Sheri reminds Mom with a smile. She guides me by the elbow up to the circular stage in the center of the lounge to stand in front of a mirror.
And now, with the full effect right in front of me, I study the dress. It’s beautiful, but for someone else. I understand why my mom loves it—this was her style of wedding dress back in the nineties. Puffed shoulders, teased hair, shiny satin and lace. It was all about the rocker princess look for her.
“Can you get a veil?” my mom asks Sheri.
Sheri watches me. “Doyouwant a veil?” she asks me.
“Um…let’s try a couple more dresses on first,” I say. Sheri smiles and nods, and I think she can read my mind better than my mom.
She knows I don’t love this dress and that I’m ready to take it off.
“We can put this one back on at the end if Claire wants,” she tells Mom, who nods. Sheri turns to me. “On to the next!”
We go back to the dressing room and try on a couple more dresses—each one beautiful, but not right. Mom insists the first one was better, but my eyes keep wandering to the hanging rack, the sleek sheath dress practically calling my name.
“Let’s get that one on,” Sheri says with a wink. She helps me out of the most recent fluffy dress, and I step into the new one, hoping it will fit.
At first it hangs around me, but Sheri uses her magic clips again and hugs it to my body.
“Oh,” I breathe. “It’s…perfect.” The soft satin shows off my curves but magically holds me together in all the right places. The draping in the front with the low back makes it extra classy, and the gems on the straps are perfect to make it look like a wedding dress.
I get teary-eyed just looking at myself.Thisis the reaction I wanted to have.Thisis the dress I was looking for.
“Ready?” Sheri asks.
I nod so hard, I must look like a bobblehead. We head out to the lounge, and my grin is so big, my cheeks hurt. I step onto the stage and look at myself in the mirror.
This is it.Thisis my dress.
I’m admiring my reflection in the mirror, and Sheri asks Mom, “What do you think?”
Mom doesn’t say anything for a moment. “I can tell Claire really loves it.”
“I do,” I say. I look at her expression in the mirror reflection. Her lips are twisted to the side, her eyes uncertain. “Don’t you love it?”
Mom still hesitates and looks back and forth between me and Sheri. Then she sighs heavily. “I think you look beautiful, Claire. You’ll look beautiful in whatever you wear. But it’s not my preference.”
My heart sinks.
“You can get whatever you want,” Mom continues. “If this is the dress that makes you happy, you can have this one. But I prefer the other one.”
Sheri smiles brightly at that. “We don’t get moms like you every day,” she says.
Mom shrugs. “I want her to be happy about the dress. She’s already making my dreams come true by marrying Zach.”
I recognize that Mom isn’t pushing her opinions. But she made it clear that she prefers the other one. And that’s what this whole thing is about, right? Making my mom happy?
Wait.
It’s not supposed to be about making my mom happy. It’s supposed to be about the happiest day ofmylife. The day I promise myself to be married to Zach forever.
Zach. Have I even thought about him once today? Have I wondered what he’d think, seeing me walk down the aisle? I look at myself in the mirror, trying to see myself through his eyes. What would he do? Would he smile? Laugh a little? Get emotional, or teary-eyed?
