“Because I don’t want anything from her, and he wants everything. Which he should,” I hurried to add before Meredith’s face fell and Elena took my bridesmaid card away.
“About five thousand dollars,” said Elena.
That was a lot. It was more than I spent on my first car, but honestly it wasn’t as bad as I’d imagined.
“Okay,” I said doing some simple calculations in my head. I had about three thousand dollars in a money market account I could afford to part with. “What’s her budget?”
“Ten thousand.”
My mind stuttered over the numbers, trying—and failing—to make sense of what Elena said.
“I don’t understand.”
“Her budget is ten thousand. The dress is fifteen.” Elena spoke slowly as if I were incredibly dense, which, considering the numbers she was talking about, was entirely possible. “It’s not inexpensive.”
I snorted, and she shot me a look.
“But if it’s as perfect as I think it might be, it will be worth it.”
I loved clothes and nice things as much as anyone. I thought back to the gift from Ford and how good it felt to have the warm wooden muddler in my hand, the craftsmanship obvious in the piece. That didn’t mean I had any idea what made a dress worth fifteen thousand dollars. Particularly a dress that by its very nature was only worn once.
“Wait until you see her.” The breathless salesclerk stood to the side of the platform, making room for Alex to step up.
She glowed. The dress was gorgeous—off-the-shoulder sweetheart neckline withthree-quarter length sleeves in a silk so soft it looked like it floated over her skin—but it was more than the dress. My fierce, beautiful friend who’d worked her ass off for everything she had...the woman who’d resurrected a career for herself and was brave enough to take a chance on loving someone stood in front of us, looking like a queen.
“This is the one.” Her voice held enough awe to make it clear she was as stunned by her transformation as I was. “This is the dress I’m going to wear when I marry Erik.” She blinked, and I could tell she was tearing up.
Beside me, I heard Meredith sniffle.
“You’ll need a veil but something gossamer sheer. You don’t want anything to obscure the gorgeous back of this dress. The tulip flare skirt fits like it was made for you,” said Elena, getting to her feet and circling the platform to take in the dress from every angle. “We’re going to have to be very careful with the length, but the dress is perfect.”
“You look beautiful. A queen in her full power.” Kindra spoke with her normal assurance, colored with just enough awe to capture how I think we all felt. “Are you comfortable fitting it into your budget?”
I smiled at the other woman, grateful not to have to be the one who brought up the pesky problem with spending an obscene amount of money on a dress. Alex didn’t hesitate.
“To wear this dress when I become Erik’s wife? Absolutely. I’ll use money from my advance to cover the difference.”
“You can’t do that.” The words were out of my mouth before I had a chance to consider them, a clear indication of how certain I felt.
I always checked myself before I spoke. Except apparently when my best friend decided to spend money she earned from her brilliant work on a load of crystals and silk so she could tie herself to a man who would always make his career more important than hers. That she was talking about spending her advance before they even saidI domeant the subordination was starting early.
“Of course I can. I want to.” She shot me a look that was part confusion, part warning.
Elena’s look was all warning. I didn’t care. My criticism of Erik—even though I hadn’t made it out loud—might not be exactly fair, but I’d seen this scenario play out too many times to believe I was wrong.
A beautiful woman with drive and a career of her own fell in love with a powerfulman. They get married; maybe he gets a promotion, maybe they decide to start a family. Suddenly her work isn’t as important anymore. Bit by bit, like the frog getting cooked in the gumbo pot, she starts to lose things. To give up opportunities in favor of the family. Until one day she wakes up and doesn’t remember who she is anymore unless she’s serving at the pleasure of a husband and kids.
Or she keeps her focus on her career. Starts a family, balances work and children, putting in the extra effort to make sure she gives both her all and wearing herself out in the process. Until one day she wakes up and realizes the pace is killing her and something’s got to give.
I knew there were couples who’d done the role reversal thing, but the examples I’d seen of that—skewed, admittedly, given my profession—weren’t pretty. In my experience with one partner at home, working women put in more effort with the kids than working dads. The best example I had was a family where the dad actually stayed home and took care of things. He did the cooking and cleaning and childrearing. She was still stuck in a hotel room on a business trip to South America, sewing patches on their son’s scout uniform. No one made her do it, but if the genders were reversed, I think you’d be hard-pressed to find a man who’d do the same.
In the worst-case scenarios—the ones that showed up in my office—women supported men who played at being the primary caregiver until they couldn’t stand it any longer, only to realize that leaving him would likely mean continuing to pay him to stay home and in many cases result in her losing custody of her children. Those guys had a way of turning on the magic daddy charm when their meal ticket was threatened, using their children as human shields to keep their spouse in line. No divorce was great, but those were the ugliest I handled.
“That money is for your career, not a dress to wear for some man.” I’d gone over a line. I knew it, but I couldn’t seem to pull myself back.
Meredith’s gasp was audible and if looks could kill, Elena’s would have put me in the ground. Under the ground, with a building parked on top like a badWizard of Ozreboot. But it was Alex’s expression that pulled me up short. I expected the defiance. I wasn’t prepared for the pain.
“The money is for whatever I decide it’s for. I earned it with my words and my ideas. It’s mine to use any way I want. And Erik isn’t some man. He’s going to be my husband. My partner.” She punched the last word, pinning me in place with her gaze.
