Page 11

They continued their leisurely progress down Main Street, stopping to peer into shop windows and take in the displays. Even after three years of living in Fir Tree Grove, Vanessa still couldn’t entirely get over how completely transformed the town was, or how all-out everyone went. She loved it, but she didn’t think she’d ever entirely get used to it.

“We should definitely hit Threads and Needles,” Imogen suggested as they approached the clothing boutique that was one of their favorites. “Didn’t you say you needed some new things for the final stretch?”

Vanessa nodded, wincing slightly. Clothes shopping had become more necessity than fun once her pregnancy had progressed past a certain point. In the early months of her pregnancy, shopping for maternity clothes had felt like a fun adventure, an excuse to explore new fashion and experiment with styles she’d never considered before. But now, in the final weeks before her due date, clothes shopping had become a frustrating exercise in trying to find anything that would fit her dramatically changed body while still making her feel remotely like herself.

The bell above the door of Threads and Needles chimed cheerfully as they entered, and Vanessa was immediately greeted by the scent of holiday potpourri and the faint smell of wool. She and Imogen browsed the racks, and she collected a handful of items that she immediately liked, although she was wary as to whether or not they would actually fit her.

Her style had changed a lot since she’d moved to Fir Tree Grove. She’d relaxed her tendency to gravitate toward fancy, designer, impractical clothing, although she still liked pieces that were flattering and stylish. She just dressed for function as well as fashion now… and in these last months of being pregnant, it felt like it was only function.

Nothing fit the way it used to, nothing looked the way she expected it to. The styles that were meant to accommodate the changes in her body just made her feel shapeless and unattractive. She knew she was doing this miraculous thing, but a lot of the time she just felt unwieldy, and disconnected with who she saw in the mirror.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love her baby bump. It meant that she and Jackson were going to have a much-wanted addition to the family, and that was wonderful. She was thrilled. But she hadn’t expected to feel so strange in her own skin.

She went into one dressing room while Imogen went into another, setting down her cup of cocoa as she started to try on piece after piece. She quickly realized that nothing that she’d gravitated toward looked good on her. The emerald green sweater that looked perfect on the hanger made her feel like she was wearing a tent. A tartan shift dress made her feel like a shapeless balloon. The Christmas-red wrap blouse she’d picked up gapped where it shouldn’t and clung in other places that were unflattering, and she let out a heavy sigh as she looked in the mirror and tried not to imagine how they would have all looked on her before.

She tugged off the blouse and the leggings she’d picked up, and felt tears of frustration prick at her eyes. This was supposed to be one of the happiest times in her life—she was married to a wonderful man who adored her, carrying a healthy baby they’d both wanted. She had a house and a beautiful nursery and everything she could possibly want, and she felt guilty for looking in the mirror and being unhappy over something so superficial.

But more than anything, she just wanted to feel like herself, while also being excited about becoming a mother.

“How’s it going in there?” Imogen called from outside the dressing room, and Vanessa blinked rapidly.

“Great,” she replied, although her voice cracked slightly on the word. “Just… trying to find something that works.”

That was the problem though—nothing was working. Nothing looked right or felt right or made her feel like the confident, attractive woman she’d been before pregnancy turned her body into something she barely recognized. The rational part of her mind knew that these feelings were normal. Most women struggled with body image during pregnancy, and her worth wasn’t determined by how she looked in clothes. But the emotional part of her felt lost and frustrated and oddly grieving for the person she’d been before.

Having tried on a handful of other items she’d grabbed, without success, she emerged empty handed and discouraged, and Imogen gave her a sympathetic look.

“No luck?” she asked, in a tone that suggested she’d also been where Vanessa was.

“I think I’m just having one of those days where nothing feels like me,” Vanessa admitted, trying to keep her tone light despite the disappointment that was threatening to overwhelm her.

“Well, we’ll look around a little more,” Imogen said encouragingly. “Something’s bound to catch your eye.”

They browsed the floor for a little longer, with Vanessa touching a number of items that she knew she would have loved before and felt sure wouldn’t look right at all now. She was about to give up when she made it to the back of the store and saw a rack of truly outlandish Christmas sweaters, in the novelty area.

The sweaters were all obviously jokes, ranging from one decorated with reindeer wearing sunglasses, to pom-pom Santa Clauses in various ridiculous poses, and Christmas trees covered in actual lights.

One sweater in particular was too ridiculous to be believed, a massive, forest green monstrosity covered with appliqué snowmen, glittery snowflakes, and what appeared to be actual jingle bells sewn along the hem. It was easily the most insane piece of clothing she’d ever seen, so aggressively ugly that it was honestly impressive.

Without really thinking about what she was doing, Vanessa pulled the sweater off the rack and held it up against herself.

“Imogen,” she called, her voice suddenly bright with mischief, “what do you think about this one?”

Imogen looked up from the jewelry display she’d been browsing and immediately burst into laughter at the sight of the sweater. “Oh my goodness, Vanessa, that thing is absolutely hideous. It’s like someone decided to put every Christmas decoration in the world onto one piece of clothing.”

“Exactly,” Vanessa said, grinning for the first time since they’d entered the store. “It’s perfect.”

Before anyone could talk her out of it, Vanessa disappeared back into the dressing room with the ridiculous sweater. When she emerged a few minutes later, Imogen was staring at her with amused disbelief. The sweater was enormous even by maternity standards, completely shapeless and covered with so many decorative elements that it was impossible to focus on Vanessa’s actual body underneath.

But something had happened when she put it on. For the first time in months, Vanessa didn’t feel hyperaware of how every bit of clothing was laying on her, of how it was pinching and pushing and squeezing all the wrong places, or what anyone was thinking when they looked at her. Of course whoever saw this would think it looked awful and ridiculous, because it was. It wasn’t her making the sweater look bad, it was the sweater itself.

Also, it made her laugh, and that felt good.

“I love it,” she announced, doing a slow turn so Imogen could appreciate the full effect. The jingle bells along the hem created a soft chiming sound with every movement, and the sequined snowmen glittered in the boutique’s lighting.

“You can’t be serious,” Imogen said, laughing so hard she could barely speak. “That sweater is a crime against fashion. It’s so ugly it’s practically offensive.”

“Which is exactly why it’s perfect,” Vanessa replied, striking a silly pose as she modeled the sweater for Imogen. “I’ve been trying to find clothes that make me look like the person I was before I got pregnant, but that person doesn’t exist anymore. So why not embrace being someone completely different for a while?”