“I don’t like the pink, either. I like the red one at the end, though.”
Lucia began sifting through the dresses one by one, pulling out each one so that she could inspect it. “I just want you both to be comfortable, and I want you both to look good. Did you say you like the red one? Can you show it to me?”
Alessandra let out a deep breath as she rose from the chair. She moved quickly towards the rack, showing just how irritated she was with Lucia. I understood. I was just as frustrated that she wouldn’t just choose one. We’d been at it for at least two or three hours while watching her stare at the dresses over and over again, as though she was bound to find a new one in there, or find a detail that she’d missed.
I knew that Lucia wanted everything to go well, but it was impossible to impress Angelo. I think that was her biggest fear. Letting him down meant that her life became even more difficult. He was a stickler for details, and he was sure to notice if something wasn’t up to his standards. He was known for being tough when a crowd of people was involved. He often set examples for his children and would retaliate when they faltered.
“This one,” Alessandra said, pulling out the red dress at the end. “You haven’t had her try this one on yet, and look. It looks great with my complexion.”
Lucia took the dress from Alessandra’s hand, lifting it so that she could take a closer look. “What do you think, Chiara?”
I’d remained silent through all of this, mostly out of spite. I didn’t want to talk. Not when my feet were beginning to hurt as bad as they were. I almost missed the small ten-foot room and the fact that I could spend my time alone, without being poked and prodded.
“It looks nice.”
“That’s it? We need more than nice, you know.”
I remained where I was standing, but took a good look at the dress she was holding out towards me. It was one of the nicer ones on the rack, even color-wise. It was a deep wine red color and had a heart-shaped neckline and slight ruching at the waist. It had a slit towards the bottom but looked as though it would reach below the knee, meeting all of Lucia’s criteria.
I knew that she wasn’t trying to seem pushy, or bratty. She only came off that way because we’d been away from her for so long. I wanted to do something else. I wanted to go to a restaurant with them, have a glass of wine, and enjoy ourselves as a family. Having to deal with the stress of a wedding after being trapped for so long felt like another tribulation. It was too busy, and there was too much to do.
“It’s actually really nice. I’ll try it on.” I tried to sound more enthusiastic this time.
The door opened, causing us all to jump. There was never any feeling when someone would waltz into the room, but it had been over a few hours since the maid dropped off any food. I stepped back when I saw that Romeo had entered. Both Alessandra and I were still apprehensive of him, especially after everything that had happened in the basement. I pictured his face and the expression of disgust he’d had when he was saying those vile things to me. It caused goosebumps to form along my skin.
“Hello,farfalla. How are the preparations going?”
Lucia welcomed him with open arms, which was strange for her. In the previous interactions I’d seen between her and Romeo, it had seemed distant. It appeared as though they’d become closer, maybe even beginning to understand each other. The same with Marcello and me.
“It’s going okay. We’re just trying to decide on bridesmaid dresses,” Lucia said, showing him the red one she’d picked out. “What do you think of this one?”
“That one’s really nice.”
Alessandra and I shared a look. Did Romeo even care about how the wedding went? I imagined that he was just waiting for it all to be over, so he could go back to being an asshole. I was worried about how he’d change once they were officially married.
“Would your dad like it?”
He brought his hand to his chin and pursed his lips. “I think he would. He’s a fan of red wine, and this reminds me of that.”
Lucia laughed lightly. “Wine? That’s the only thing you think of when you see this dress?”
“Farfalla, the color is exactly like red wine. How could I not?”
“Well, there are lots of other features about it that you could have commented on,” she told him, rolling her eyes. “Like the length? I want it to be classy.”
“It looks very classy. Like a classy red wine.” Romeo laughed. He was not like the man we’d come to hate and distrust. He seemed more relaxed, happy even.
I’d completely forgotten Rosetta was even in the room until she stepped forward and took the dress from Lucia’s hand, the hanger falling onto the ground. She smiled at Romeo and averted her eyes from him as she approached me. She was reaching out already, causing me to grimace. I didn’t want her to grab me again, and begin trying to fix whatever ridiculous thing Lucia thought needed to be mended. The dress itself was fine, and I didn’t see any point in pulling and tugging parts of it.
“There’s a lot more to plan, so let’s have you try this one on.”
I glanced at Lucia, who motioned towards the bathroom next to me. She waved me off and I turned towards the bathroom, where the other dresses were hanging on the back of the door. I closed the door behind me and heard them talking. I didn’t want to keep trying on dresses, especially not for the rest of the day. The dress I had on felt like peeling off wax when I tried to remove it. It was stuck to my body because I was beginning to perspire—not the best thing for silk. I left it on the floor as I tried on the wine-colored dress.
It clung in just the right places and slipped on without a hassle. There wasn’t even a zipper. It was simple, easy, and the best dress for my complexion that I’d tried on since we started. I glanced in the mirror and moved my hair around in places, as though trying different styles. It didn’t matter whether my hair was up or down, the heart-shaped neckline was perfect, showing off just the right amount of skin.
I pressed down the fabric and opened the door. Lucia stopped talking to Romeo and turned to me immediately and began smiling from ear to ear. She passed Romeo and took my hand in hers, leading me towards the middle of the room, so that everyone could get a good look. It didn’t matter how personal she made it. I still felt like a mannequin.
“This one is gorgeous! You were right, Alessandra.”
