When Isabel emerged, Kathleen’s breath caught. The dress was perfection itself—a flowing silk crepe gown with a deep V-neck and delicate beading that caught the light like scattered stars. It was elegant without being plain, romantic without being too frilly. But more than that, it transformed Isabel. She looked radiant.
“Oh, Isabel,” Kathleen whispered as tears prick at her eyes.
Susan’s hand flew to her mouth. Even Lynda sat straighter in her chair.
Isabel turned to face the mirror, and Kathleen watched her friend’s face change as she saw herself. This wasn’t just trying on another dress—this was Isabel seeing herself as a bride, perhaps for the first time since she told Frank she’d marry him.
“This is it,” Isabel said, her voice barely above a whisper. She turned back to face them, tears streaming down her cheeks. “This is my dress. It’s perfect for a lakeside wedding.”
Emily beamed and began making notes about alterations, but Isabel held up a hand to stop her. She stepped down from the platform and walked toward her three friends, the train of the dress flowing behind her like water.
“Before we go any further,” Isabel said, her voice shaking with emotion, “I have something to ask you.” She looked at Kathleen, Susan, and Lynda. “I know we’re all in our sixties, and this is probably more foolish than practical, but I can’t imagine getting married without you all beside me. Will you be my bridesmaids?”
The question hung in the air for a moment, beautiful and weighted with decades of friendship. Then everyone nodded.
Kathleen hugged her friend. “Of course we will.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Susan laughed, joining the embrace.
Lynda stood more slowly, but when she reached them, her hug was fierce. “I’d be honored,” she said simply.
What followed was a whirlwind of fabric and laughter as Emily brought out dress after dress for them to consider. The boutique transformed into a rainbow of color and texture, with gowns in every shade draped over chairs and hanging from hooks.
Susan preferred a soft blue chiffon that complemented her silver hair beautifully. “It reminds me of the sky over the lake,” she said, smoothing the flowing skirt. The dress seemed to lift years from her face, replacing the worry lines with something so much softer.
Kathleen was drawn to a warm rose-colored dress that Emily assured her was perfect for her complexion. The dress had a classic cut with three-quarter sleeves that felt incredibly elegant.
The challenge, as they had all predicted, was Lynda.
“I really think a nice pantsuit would be more appropriate,” she said, eyeing the selection of dresses with deep suspicion. “I have a beautiful navy one that would photograph well.”
“Lynda Morth,” Isabel said firmly, “you are not wearing a pantsuit to my wedding.”
“But I feel self-conscious in long dresses,” Lynda protested. “All that flowing fabric. I’ll trip over myself.”
“Then we’ll find something that makes you feel like yourself,” Kathleen said diplomatically. She understood Lynda’s discomfort—her friend had spent her entire career in jeans and sweatshirts.
Emily, who must have dealt with reluctant bridesmaids before, appeared with a sophisticated burgundy dress. It had clean lines and a tailored fit, but was still a dress.
“This is a simple design,” Emily explained, “but it still has the elegance Isabel’s looking for.”
Lynda examined it critically, running her fingers over the fabric. “It’s not terrible,” she admitted.
“Try it on,” Isabel pleaded. “For me?”
Ten minutes later, Lynda emerged from the dressing room looking incredible. The burgundy brought out the warmth in her skin, and the structured silhouette gave her the confidence she needed.
“Well?” she asked, though Kathleen could see in her eyes that Lynda knew she looked beautiful.
“Stunning,” Isabel breathed. “Absolutely stunning.”
As they stood in front of the boutique’s large mirror, a profound sense of gratitude washed over Kathleen. Here they were, decades after they’d first met, still showing up for the important moments in each other’s lives.
“We clean up pretty well for a bunch of old broads,” Lynda said, and they all dissolved into laughter.
“Speak for yourself,” Susan retorted, striking a pose that made them laugh even harder.
As Emily bustled around them with a measuring tape and pins, Kathleen knew she was lucky to have such good friends.
