“I kid,” I said. “You’re a big proponent of sharing is caring. Without your expert guidance, I’d still be drinking the cheap stuff.”
We took our flutes and clinked them with a toast to Busy Mom Cosmetics.
Laura Lee giggled a little but captured the whole exchange.
“Well,” Deborah said in a subtle bid to regain order. “As you well know, we at Busy Mom Cosmetics have yet to branch out into couture, but we’ve partnered with an up-and-coming designer to make sure you each have an outfit that matches your body type.”
And so it began.
They’d set up three different privacy screens, and it was too fancy for words. Some considerate soul had even put a little table behind the screen for our champagne glasses. We each took a few dresses with us and then vowed to meet in the middle, giggling like schoolgirls as we went.
Abi started with a floor-length gray gown. I tried on a high-necked, long-sleeved number in red, and Rachel finally emerged in a lime-green two-piece.
We all looked at each other and said, “No.”
Next, I tried on a black cocktail dress with a hint of cleavage.
“Vivian, are you going to a funeral or to see the brainchild of Lin-Manuel Miranda?” Abi asked.
I took in her salmon-pink dress with a huge drape over the shoulders. “Are you a Golden Girl?”
Rachel laughed, but then we took in the lace minidress that barely covered her butt.
Before we could comment, she said, “I know, I know!”
I surveyed my choices. They were all matronly. Except the red one that consisted of a sparkly bustier with a gauzy skirt.
“Matron, my ass,” I muttered. “ But I’ll show them how silly I look in things like this.”
Only, Abi didn’t even crack a smile. Instead, she said, “That’s the one.”
“But—”
“Ooo, Vivian, where did you find those boobs?” Rachel asked.
“This was supposed to be a joke, y’all.”
“Nope. That’s your look,” Abi said. “You don’t wear enough red.”
My heart squeezed in on itself. If ever there were a dress that was the opposite of anything Mitch had ever picked out, it was this dress. I would keep it. I would wear it.
I took in Abi, who wore a shorter turquoise number that clung to her every curve in a very flattering way. “And I think that’s your look.”
She smiled. “Thank you!”
“What about me?” asked Rachel as she twirled in a navy-blue dress with a halter top and a low-cut back.
“Perfect!” Abi and I said together.
“I don’t know. I really liked the lime one,” Deborah said.
Abi and I both gave her a look.
“Blue it is!”
From there we went over to the area with the shoes. Abi quickly picked out a pair of silver Manolos and strutted around the room to show them off.
And then promptly sat down and took them off.
