The sales lady emerged from the back room of the bridal shop with a garment bag. “The designer got started on the concept we discussed. They’ll take it in this week. There will be a few more fittings afterward.”
Velma frowned. When they were kids, they’d talked about wearing their grandmother’s gown in their own weddings. Their mother had worn it, too. Every once in a while, their grandmother let them try it on and pretend to be brides. Velma loved that dress.
Their grandfather, Pops, had given the gown to Claire for her wedding.
Claire was updating it. Making it modern.
Velma paused, blinking away the dryness clouding her vision.
They could still let it out again someday when Velma got married. Put it back the way it was. That would be okay.
Not all changes had to be permanent.
“Let me get the room set up for you.” The sales lady ducked into the dressing room marked with a glittery number two on the door.
“This is exciting.” Claire lifted her plastic champagne flute in illustration, but her enthusiasm was absent. “Trying on dresses. Drinking fake champagne.”
Claire had been off all day. Distracted. Not chatty.
“Everything okay?” Velma asked.
Claire released her breath as the sales lady dropped the tape. “Everything’s peachy.”
“She hasn’t been herself all week,” Heather called from the dressing room where she tried on yet another option for their bridesmaid and maid-of-honor dresses.
Velma hated trying on clothes, so she was happily delegating the task of finding their bridesmaid gowns to Heather.
“Dean and I had a talk, and I’m still figuring it out.”
“What’d you talk about?” Heather hollered over the top of the dressing room door marked with a glitter-encrusted number four.
Claire’s face went blank. “Kids.”
In Velma’s Dean Dreams she had planned on three kids within the first few years of marriage. That way they could get the diapers done all at once. Those were steps five, six, and seven of the five-year plan. The free spirit in Brek probably didn’t want children and—holy crap, she did not need to be thinking about Brek’s babies.
“Dean doesn’t want kids.” Claire sounded defeated. “He wants to travel. Maybe move to Europe.”
Whoa. Europe was not a house in Aurora.
“Don’t you want kids?” Velma was certain she did.
“I don’t know.” Claire lifted a shoulder and stood still while the sales lady continued with her measurements. “I never thought much about them. I don’tnotwant them. But it’s Dean, and he’s the most important thing in my life.”
Velma dropped to a white tapestry chair. “I can’t believe Dean doesn’t want kids.”
Really, with a face as handsome as Dean’s, procreation should be mandatory.
Next thing she knew, Claire would be telling her how Dean’s financial portfolio was all high-risk and not diversified.
“We’ll figure it out.” Claire flipped through a veil catalog. “I want to have fun today. I need to shake it off.”
“What do you think?” Heather emerged from the dressing room in a short, tight purple tube dress that only fit women without any curves. In other words, it wouldn’t work on Velma.
“I love it.” Claire perked up at the sight of the dress.
“It’s the best, isn’t it?” Heather’s eyes lit up.
“Totallythe one. Velma, this is going to look awesome on you.” Claire was genuinely excited about the dress.
