"Yes, ma'am." The clerk turns back to me and does another head-to-toe inspection. "We have everything for you, Ms. Aaron, please follow me. Ms. Preston, have a seat. It will only take a moment."
The clerk leads me to the dressing room where she unzips a bag already hanging from the hook. She turns to me and stands there staring at me.
"Excuse me!"
"Take off your jacket so I can help you dress," she replies in a snotty tone.
"Get out. I can do this myself." Yep, I'm pissed off.
"The foundation for your dress is there on the chair, and your shoes are in the box. Just stick your head out if you need help."
She walks out and leaves me there.
What the hell is a foundation? I see the bustier sitting on the chair. Oh, foundation. I get dressed but am unable to zip it up, so I step out with the back undone. The clerk huffs and slips behind me to zip me in before I step up onto the pedestal. The dress is a floor-length straight style with lace and tulle in blush. I hate it and know Ana didn't have anything to do with picking this out for me.
"Oh, the A-line style looks pretty on you, Maya. I was hoping the back was high enough to cover your tattoo because Jonathon didn't want it to show." Ana starts gushing as the clerk comes out of the dressing room with the box of shoes. The shoes are a satin, matching the dress with a bow on the toe. Ugly.
"What is an A-line?"
"It’s that style. Don't you love it? Jonathon picked a beauty."
"Sure." I want to gag and claw at all the lace on the bodice and sleeves. "Okay, I will go take it off now."
I turn to head back into the dressing room.
"No, ma'am, our seamstress needs to confirm if anyalterations are needed. I don't see that we need to hem it with as tall as you are in those shoes."
The heels aren't even as high as the ones I'm wearing tonight.
"I can wear flats if you want, Ana."
"No, Jonathon has a vision, and your shoes are fine. I will look tiny next to you."
"It's your wedding, too. I will wear whatever you want me to."
"Ma'am, I agree with Ms. Preston, you look stunning in the heels."
Damn clerk, go away.
As the clerk walks off to get the seamstress, I look at the dress and watch my best friend in the mirrors. How did she change so much in a few years? How did her style get so controlled? I miss the miniskirts and leggings, the slacks with five-inch heels, the baby doll dresses and the boots. Where is my Ana? I miss her.
"Ana, did you really let Jonathon pick out my dress?"
"Of course."
"Why?"
"I want what Jonathon wants." She doesn't raise her head to look at me, instead she is looking at her phone. She huffs and pushes her phone back into her designer handbag.
"What’s up, Ana?" I ask as she drops her head again and her shoulders curve in.
"Jonathon's meeting is going to run right up to the rehearsal, and we still have so much to do. Now I have to complete the things on hislist too."
"What do you need to do? I can do it." I'll do anything to get out of my head and away from all this lace.
"Well, I need to check with the florist, confirm our salon appointments for tomorrow, and double check the banquet room for tonight. He was supposed to confirm with the bar and barmen to make sure that all the alcohol is there, double check the menu for tonight and tomorrow, and verify his seating arrangements for tonight."
"Okay, text me the list and let’s get started."
