“What do you think?” I ask.
Rachel is quiet as she stares at herself, but something is off. It’s almost as if her mind is elsewhere. She brings her hands up to her stomach and touches it softly. “I took a test this morning,” she says, and while she takes a pause, I know by her tone that whatever she is going to say next isn’t good. “It was negative.”
“I’m so sorry,” I say with empathy. What else can I say at this point?
“I know it’s silly,” she whispers with tears in her eyes. “I’m getting married. I shouldn’t be worrying about negative pregnancy tests. I should be happy that I still fit in a size four and can pick any wedding dress style I want.”
“Except for the trumpet,” I mumble in an attempt to make her laugh. It does pull a small smile out of her, but it is fleeting.
“It’s just that we have been trying for so long. I’m starting to think it’ll never happen.” Rachel begins to cry. I grab a few tissues. They’re meant for yes-to-the-dress tears, not negative pregnancy test tears, but they’ll do. “Also, I hate the dress.”
I have to agree with her on this one, and I unzip it. “Listen,” I tell her. “You can’t give up hope.”
“It’s kind of hard not to after years of single-line pee sticks,” she sniffs.
“I get that,” I tell her. “But I also feel like there are other options.”
I grab the last dress off the rack. It’s simple and princess cut with a big bow in the back and wing tips on the chest. It’s understated without being plain, just like my sister.
“Those options are very expensive, El,” she reminds me as she slips into the gown. “And considering we just about had to take out a second mortgage to pay for this wedding, I don’t think we can even consider that an option anymore. I mean, the dress alone is going to be three grand.”
“Yeah, well, maybe there’s a way around that,” I say as I zip her up. Then I smile. It’s beautiful.
“I don’t really see how,” she says. “And when did you become the ray of eternal sunshine anyway?”
I bite my lip in hesitation. How exactly does one tell their sister that they may or may not have gotten over 20k as a sign-on bonus for also signing away their life at their new job?
“I guess since starting my job,” I tell her.
“I take it your boss isn’t taking advantage of you anymore?” she asks as she turns in the mirror.
“He’s lightened up,” I say.
“Enough to make your life less of a living hell?”
“Enough that I got a bonus,” I tell her.
“Already?” she asks, turning the other way. I can tell she loves the dress as much as I do. “That was unexpected. How much is it?”
I swallow before answering. “Enough to pay for IVF,” I tell her, and she stops. Her eyes slice up to mine in the mirror, and then she turns to actually face me.
“What do you mean?” she asks, and my eyes fill with tears.
“I mean, my boss gave me a sign-on bonus that is enough to help you guys. It’s part of why I took the job.”
Tears run down my sister’s cheeks, and her chin begins to quiver. “How…I mean…I don’t understand. You’d do that for me?”
“I did do that for you,” I smile, taking her hands in mine. “I wanted to wait until after the wedding to tell you, but I hate watching you hurt.”
“I don’t know what to say,” she cries.
“Say yes. Say you’ll stop fretting about it so much and just know that the option is now on the table. For now, you and Chance can focus on the wedding…and this dress,” I tell her, and Rachel turns and looks at herself in the mirror.
“It really is lovely, isn’t it?” she asks.
“It’s perfect,” I tell her. “It’s THE dress.”
“It is,” she agrees, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. Then she looks over at me again. “You didn’t really take the job for me, did you?”
