“I heard a zipper and you got quiet. What do you think so far?”
“It’s…not what I expected.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing, Delaney?”
“Good?”
“That sounds like a question.”
“Good,” I repeated.
I changed from the slacks into the brown dress, the top of which was structured just like my tank top. Not bad.
“Brown dress fits,” I said.
“But you don’t love it. That’s what this is about. Finding something you love. Try the other one.”
I hesitated, my hand on the cool fabric. What if it didn’t fit? What if I looked weird in it? What if it was a statement that I was ready for change between Ryder and me? A change that didn’t send him out of town until three o’clock in the morning.
A statement I was ready for us to move out of this rut.
The dress slid on easily, there was a zipper, but I didn’t have to undo it to shimmy my way into the fabric. I didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad sign.
I tugged it a bit as it fell into place, delicate across my skin, but strong too, like a kind of armor.
Snug in the right places but still loose enough for full range of motion.
Point one for the dress.
I stared down at it, not quite ready to look in the mirror. I liked how it fell right above my knee, but not so high that I’d have to do that weird, sideways, half slide thing Myra and Jean did getting in and out of cars and restaurant booths when they were in mini-skirt mode.
The colors were good.
“Do you like it? Does it fit?” I smelled the sweet, smoky hint of whiskey in the air. Maybe she really was going to close the shop for the rest of the day.
“I…um…haven’t looked.”
There was a pause. I told myself it was no big deal. It was just a dress. Just a—
—chance for change—
—piece of clothing.
“Open the door, and I’ll tell you if I like it,” she suggested.
I opened the door.
Her expression gave nothing away. She had that distant look I’d seen tailors in movies adopt.
“This is your dress.”
“What?”
“You can take it off and never look at yourself in it, but this dress is going home with you. It’s yours.”
“It’s not mine until I buy it.”
“This was made for you. Now get out of it, and I’ll put it in the bag with…” She glanced at the other clothing. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. You don’t have to take any of the rest of it. But this dress goes in your closet. If you leave it hanging in there for a decade without wearing it, I will personally kick you in the shins.”
