We traveled up an escalator, past the children’s department, and into the thick of women’s wear. The stretchy sheen of what Arden called athleisure soon gave way to an entire section of ball gowns.
“Oh wow.” Arden had stopped in front of a mannequin wearing a blindingly red dress. Sequined flowers climbed all over the bodice. She spun to face us. “Do you guys want to try things on? Just for fun.”
Lydia checked the price tag. “No.”
Ignoring this, Arden appealed to me. “Which one do you like, Mary?”
“The blue one is pretty.” I pointed at a misty confection of silky skirts with a gauze overlay.
“Totally.” Arden slid two off the adjacent rack and handed the hangers to me. “Sometimes the sizing is wonky for gowns, so you’re better off trying a couple of different ones.” She narrowed her eyes, studying the other displays. “Let’s see. For Lydia, I’m thinking—”
“Dusty rose,” Lydia interrupted, raising her arm to point. “That one.”
We followed her deeper into the formalwear section, where she grabbed a flouncy pink dress with a bow. “I’m only trying this on because I already have the bra for it.”
“Very practical,” Arden agreed. “Now, Terry can probably rock anything, but if you want my opinion”—she paused, giving Terry time to nod—“I think purple is your color.”
As we weaved in and out of the racks in search of a purple dress, Arden trailed the tips of her fingers along the diaphanous fabrics. “I bet they got to wear dresses like this all the time in the olden days,” she said dreamily.
Not exactly like this,I thought, contemplating the exposed midriffs and thigh-high slits.
When the four of us assembled in front of the triptych of mirrors in all our finery, the results weren’t quite as transformative as I’d hoped. The hem of Terry’s dress pooled around her feet. Lydia’s was the right length, but the straps didn’t fit over her shoulders. The waist of the blue dress hit me mid–rib cage, as if I’d grabbed a child’s size by accident.
“Anton would pass out if he saw this.” I made a futile attempt to smooth the waterfall of fabric shooting out half a foot above my hips.
“Too bad we didn’t get to meet him,” Arden said, pouncing on the mention of Anton. “Have you known each other long?”
“A couple of years.”
“And is he dark-haired or blond—”
“Just ask her,” Lydia cut in, before Arden could finish. “Mary, are you into this guy or what?”
“Um, no. He’s like a big brother. Who is also gay. And he was in the Peace Corps before college, so he’s pretty old. As intwenty-four.”
“Gross,” Lydia grunted, holding up the top of her dress as she strode back down the carpeted aisle. “It would be like hooking up with Gandalf. Not that Gandalf is a scoundrel. I’m sure he’s great if you’re super old and don’t mind being left alone a lot. The elves are a whole other story,” she called through the dressing room door. “Those bitches need to be taken down a few pegs.”
“Okay. I get it.” Arden rolled her eyes. “Just trying to keep an open mind.”
“Your dress looks great,” I told her, both because it was true and as a sop to her pride.
“Yeah?” She took a few selfies from different angles before checking the time on her phone—something she’d been doing at regular intervals since our arrival.
“Are we done here?” Lydia called over the door of her changing room.
Arden sighed. “Fine. It’s just nice to look ahead sometimes. Think about the future. You never know when a special occasion is going to present itself. A little pre-shopping can go a long way.”
It sounded awfully specific for a general rule of thumb, but then again Arden often spoke that way.
Terry emerged from behind her own swinging door in record time. It probably helped that she’d kept her jeans and shoes on under the dress. “Where to next?”
Arden checked the time on her phone again. “Let’s start making our way to the food court.”
Once we emerged onto the second floor of the mall proper, storefronts stretched to infinity ahead of us, with annexes branching in multiple directions. It felt a little like I imagined one of those really tall hedge mazes on a country estate, only without the fresh air and natural light to ease the sense of entrapment. We made a slow circuit of the upstairs, looking into the stores we passed but never entering. All the while, Arden kept surreptitiously glancing at her phone.
“Why are we going so slow?” Lydia asked from behind me. “I think those mall walkers just lapped us.”
“Mary needs time to soak up the atmosphere,” Arden scolded.
