“I think she looks great,” Kate coos, smiling at me in the mirror. I give her a small smile in return to show my thanks for defending me. Even though mom is irritatingly right and the dress is hideous. A pale peach chiffon number that hits just below my knees with puff sleeves and a satin sash. The sleeves are digging into my arms but simultaneously sliding down, so I’m not sure if the dress is too big or too small.
“It’s not entirely comfortable,” I say, tugging on the fabric
“Yeah, but in your size I’m sure it’ll be perfect,” Kate says.
My attention snags on Lydia’s reflection in the mirror, still perusing dresses on the floor behind me. She lifts a strapless fitted dress from the rack, holds it to herself, and smiles as she tosses it over her arm with the stack of other much more stunning options she has.
I turn on the pedestal to face my mom and sister again. Mom hits me with another disapproving sweep over the dress. “Am I allowed to try on other dresses?” I ask.
“I think you’d better,” mom huffs. Kate, who is always interested in keeping mom happy, agrees. “Maybe you should see if Lydia can help you,” mom suggests, pointing to Lydia behind us. “It looks like she found a few diamonds in the rough.”
“You pulled this dress for me, mom,” I remind her as I step down from the pedestal.
I continue searching the racks for any kind of bridesmaid dress that doesn’t make me look like I escaped from Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory. I’m not entirely sure that anything will look good on me in this color, but if I at least can find one without puff sleeves and a cut that’s neither knee-length nor midi, then maybe I could at least pull it off.
“Do you need my help?” Kate asks as she appears at my side.
“Actually yes. It would be super helpful if you could give us an idea of what you’re looking for. And if you could consider a different color.” I gesture to the dress that looks like an orange puff of cotton candy.
She tilts her head to the side, taking in the dress I’m wearing. “What’s wrong with the color?”
“Kate, there isn’t a single person in your party who can pull off this color.”
“I could,” Jessica calls from the other side of the dress rack we’re standing in front of.
“You sure can, Jessica,” I say. I didn’t mean for it to come out sarcastically, but she doesn’t seem to notice anyways.
Kate shrugs, then continues pushing dresses to the side. She holds up a floor-length one with cap sleeves up to my body. “Elise looks fine in it.”
I push the dress down with a shake of my head. “You really want us to just look fine?”
“Everyone will be looking at the bride anyways,” Jessica says, appearing from thin air beside me. I grit my teeth together. Spending all this extra time with her has been an absolute nightmare. August cannot come soon enough so I don’t have to see her this much ever again.
“Well, there’s no worry about that,” Lydia says on the other side of the rack.
“Where do you two keep popping out of?” I ask. Lydia smiles, then walks around the rack of clothes to join us instead of shouting across a collection of pastel dresses.
Jessica pulls a dress off the rack and holds it up with a rueful smile. “Here, Jane. This is perfect for you.”
My brows knit together as I look at yet another bridesmaid monstrosity, though this one is a bright yellow. Fluffy skirt with about twelve layers of tulle. A boatneck cut all the way up to my collarbone. Lace sleeves all the way down to my fingertips. Jeweled belt straight out of 2012.
I push the dress out of my face so I can glare at her. “What exactly makes you think this is my dress?”
“It’s just . . . I don’t know. Modest.”
“Reserved,” Lydia adds.
“Safe,” Kate continues.
“Yeah, Jane has never really been one to take big risks, especially with clothes,” Lydia pips in
Jessica snickers, proud that her point has been proven that I am the most boring-dressed Sinclair sister. I cross my arms over my chest glare at them all, specifically the twins who joined into the Roast Jane Session instead of defending me. I would defend them to the ends of the Earth, and it’s starting to get old not seeing it reciprocated.
I spin on my heel to get a break from my sisters giggling with Jessica over another bad option for me and gasp when I spot the mannequin in the window. One of the sales associates is buttoning up little pearl buttons on a new bridal gown. It is exactly everything I’ve ever envisioned for my own wedding day. You know, whenever that day might finally come. I know I’m here shopping for Kate, but I can’t help myself from at least looking at the dress I’ve had in my mind since I was younger. My legs carry me toward the white gown almost in a trance.
“That’s gorgeous,” I tell the sales associate. She turns and looks at me with a huge smile on her face. She puts her hands on her hips, proudly examining the dress.
“It’s our newest one. Eva Louis designed specifically for us. There are only a handful in creation.”
