She nods, her smile widening. “Do you know what kind of style you’re looking for?”
"Honestly, I’m not sure yet,” I say, uncertain. “I came to look around and get an idea of what I might like.”
Her eyes brighten. “That’s okay. It’s hard to pick out the right dress for your special day,” she says, clasping her hands together. “I’m Grace. I’d be happy to show you around.”
“I’m Blakely, and this is my daughter, Amari.” She looks between the two of us with curiosity on her face. The same curiosity I get all the time. People usually say I look too young to have a daughter her age—or they think we’re sisters…
Until I tell them I had her at sixteen.
“It’s nice to meet you both.” She turns around, waves a hand, and says, “Follow me. I can pull out a few styles and see what you like.”
After an hour of browsing through what feels like a million different gowns, I feel overwhelmed. Every dress is stunning in its own way, but none of them seem to speak to me in the way I imagined they would. I thought it would be easier for me to find something. It’s a good thing I have months to make my decision.
“Do you know what kind of dress you’re looking for?” she asks Amari.
Amari has been so quiet and patient this whole time, looking through all the dresses with me. Even she looks overwhelmed and beat.
“I want a pink dress,” she says, looking up at Grace.
Grace tilts her head in a thinking position, until her eyes light up. “Let’s look over here. I might have something you will like.”
We follow her over to a section of colored dresses. She browses through a rack and pulls out a sleeveless dress with bows on each shoulder. It even has a layered tulle skirt. The tulle skirt is blush pink, and the other upper half is off-white with a pearl trim around the neckline.
Amari gasps and runs her hand through the skirt. “This is pretty.”
A wide smile forms. I’m glad she’s able to find something she likes right away. Grace looks down at her with a smile herself. “Isn’t it darling? I love little dresses.” She looks through the dresses again while pulling out a darker pink one and says. “Are you excited your mom and dad are getting married?”
My eyes widen in disbelief, and my breath catches as I try to process what she just said.
Amari looks up at her and says, “She’s not marrying my dad. She’s marrying her boyfriend, Liam.”
Grace’s mouth drops as she places a hand on her chest and turns to me. “Oh, my. I’m so sorry. I just assumed.” She shakes her head. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”
My stomach tightens as I force a smile. The father of my child isn’t the man I’m marrying. My thoughts and Amari’s words swirl around in the air. I clear my throat, unsure of how to continue with this conversation.
"Mom, I’m hungry,” Amari says, interrupting my thoughts.
Thank God.
“Let’s go get something to eat,” I say, grabbing Amari's hand. “Thank you for showing us around.” I step a few feet back.
Her cheeks flush bright red, and she quickly glances down, biting her lip as the embarrassment spread across her face. We all start walking out of the store, Grace following behind. She opens the door and says, “Again, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
I can’t even imagine what she must be feeling, but why would anyone assume something like that and then say it to my young daughter, of all people? As if I wasn’t already overthinking everything, now she’s made me think about Kai all over again.
As I’m driving down the back roads to avoid rush hour traffic, I spot a detour sign. I take the turn the signs tells me to take and head down a road that looks familiar. I gasp silently as I see the brown brick apartments on the left side of me. A sense of nostalgia hits me as I think back on all those nights I snuck out to come to this apartment to party. The apartment I would go to see Kai at. I slow down as I look over at it. I can’t believe the shit I used to do. Then it hits me. Our first apartment is a couple blocks down—the one I shared with Kai.
I stop the car and put it in park, looking over at the apartment we shared. I remember how excited he was to show me that he got us an apartment. It was Christmas day. Looking back, I remember how nervous he was, putting a blindfold on meonly to walk me down a couple blocks and lead me into a place where we thought we would start ourforever and ever.
"Mom, what are you doing?”
I look back at Amari through the rearview mirror. “This was my first apartment with your dad.”
“It looks like a house with two doors,” she says, looking at me through the mirror.
“It’s a twin home. It’s two homes connected to each other.” I swing my seatbelt off. The windows are dusty, with cobwebs everywhere. Weeds are overtaking the grass. It looks as if no one lives here. “Let’s see if it’s open.”
