Everyone just shrugs.
“Grandma, you’ve been quiet. What do youthink?” I turn to her.
“It’s very flowy. It’s pretty, but itlooks like you’re trying to hide a bun in the oven.”
“Grandma.”
“Mother.” Both my mom and Kathy yell atthe same time.
“Good heavens, I’m not saying she’spregnant. I’m just saying the dress might give the wrong impression. With howquickly you two got hitched, people will talk.”
“Good, because I’m not.”
“You’re not what?” Jill just can’t keepher mouth shut.
Oh, for the love of— “I’m not pregnant.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” Did everyone hear that?“I’m. Not. Pregnant. Annie is the one having a baby, not me.”
“Do you use protection when you haveintercourse?”
“Mom!” I hiss.
“If you don’t, then you could bepregnant.” My mom shrugs.
“I didn’t and eight months after yourgrandfather and I got married, I had Kathy.” My grandma waves her champagneglass around, smiling at the memory.
I stare open-mouthed at my grandmother,and so do the rest of my family.
“Oh, don’t look at me that way. I’ve hada great life, and I don’t regret one moment of it. My first time was in theback of grandpa’s 1949 Plymouth. It was hot and wild, and I’ve never forgottenit.”
“Well, I’ll be damned.” I laugh. “Gograndma.”
My mom turns back to me. “Let’s try onanother dress.”
The next dress I absolutely love. Theonly problem is it doesn’t have any of my mother’s specified requirements. Ithas the bateau neckline, with macramé detailing. It also has a drop waist, notmother approved, and is sleeveless, also not mother approved. But it has a fullskirt and is a chiffon silk material. I love it, I want it. The question now iswill my family like it?
I walk out and I have a giant smile on myface. “I love this dress.”
“Oh. My. Gosh.” Laura shrieks. “Thisdress screams you!”
“I love it too, little sis. It has avintage feel. It’s very much you.” Annie nods.
I look at my mother because reallyhers is the only opinion that matters, and I’m just praying she approves. “Mom,what do you think?”
She squints. “Did you cut your hair?”
Oh crap, not a good topic. “Err—um, yes,but what do you think about this dress? I really like it.”
“Katie,” she reproves with exasperation.“Why did you cut it? You’ve been trying to grow it out forever?”
“Because I wanted to.” My smile is toobright, my voice an octave too high.
“I like the cut.” Oh shit Olivia,seriously! Not the time or the place.
“The dress, mother.”
