Thirteen
Today was dress day. It was going to be a trying day.
Because Maddy’s mother believed that wedding dress shopping was as close as most people could get to a papal coronation.
And what did Maddy believe? She believed she looked terrible in white. It washed her out.
The boutique was fancy, or trying to be. Soft music played at a volume designed to make people cry gracefully. Racks of white dresses stretched across the room. A raised runway led away from the changing rooms in a way that said, ‘Strut or else.’
Her mother clasped her hands together. ‘So beautiful,’ she whispered, as if entering a cathedral.
Adam was perched nearby with a cup of tea, placed there by a sales assistant, smiling encouragingly. Neither of them believed the thing about bad luck, and it seemed sensible to get a look at each other’s duds, he said. Maddy could tell he was trying.
‘Bring on the frocks!’ he said, a touch too loudly.
Maddy smiled at him. She felt hollow.
Her mind flashed, absurdly, to the feel of Eva’s jacket beneath her cheek a week ago. The way Eva had held her, sturdy as an oak tree. No matter what she’d said, she was simply good at all of this. Even down to being able to read a stressed bride’s breaking point. Quite a skill. So comforting…
The stylist—a woman named Petra with a blonde French twist and very white teeth—clapped her hands. ‘Let’s start with silhouettes! Maddy, tell me what you’ve imagined for your big day.’
Maddy opened her mouth without hope of any sense coming out. Luckily, her mother jumped in. ‘Something timeless. Elegant. Traditional but modern.’
‘Of course,’ Petra said warmly to the absolute nonsense Kelly had spouted.
Maddy’s eyes flicked to Adam. He gave her another encouraging nod, this time adding a thumbs-up.
What would Eva do in this situation, she wondered. She’d advocate for Maddy if needed. She’d make Maddy admit what she wanted. If only to herself.
Maddy decided there was one thing she did want to say. ‘I… just want to feel comfortable,’ she said finally.
Petra beamed. ‘We’ll find that.’
The first dress was vast, just enormous. Tulle and lace and some kind of scaffolding holding it all up. ‘You’ll need my help with this one,’ Petra said, ushering Maddy into the changing room where she waited for Maddy to take her clothes off.
Maddy looked at Petra. ‘Umm…
Petra smiled. ‘I’ve seen it all.’
Hints were not Petra’s strength then. Just the ability not to gag, no matter what you looked like in your undies.
Maddy got undressed, feeling like Petra was going to give her a cavity search. Once she was down to bra and pants, Petra zipped her into the first monstrosity while Maddy tried to avoid eye contact.
As the zip hit its zenith, Maddy’s body felt locked in. Shouldn’t she be able to move properly? One wrong move and she’d break a rib.
Petra ushered her out. ‘Off you go.’
Maddy shuffled out and stopped in front of the curtains.
‘All the way!’ her mother said.
Only after Maddy had pushed herself to the end of the catwalk did her mother’s eyes begin to shine. ‘You look like a princess,’ her mother breathed.
Christ, there was that word again. Why did everyone act like that was the most exciting thing you could be? It didn’t look that fun to Maddy. Meghan Markle, for example. She hadn’t had a very good time being a princess, had she?
Maddy stared at herself in a nearby mirror. The woman reflected back was objectively bridal, she supposed.
Adam smiled. ‘Oh, darling.’
Her mother pressed her hand to her chest. ‘Oh, Maddy.’
Oh, brother.
Maddy stood for as long as she could plaster a smile on her face before saying, ‘I think I’ll look at another.’
Back in the changing room, as Petra fussed with the next option on the rack, Maddy pulled out her phone.
She hesitated only a second before opening Eva’s contact. She snapped a photo of herself in the enormous gown and typed:
Dress day.
She didn’t expect a reply. In fact, what the hell was she even doing? Eva wasn’t contracted for dress opinions. Nor was she Maddy’s friend. This was too far. Maddy had overstepped.
But the phone buzzed almost immediately.
You look like you’re being eaten by it.
Maddy let out a startled, involuntary laugh. Petra looked around sharply.
Another message followed.
Can you move in it?
Maddy smiled as she tapped out a rapid response.
Not really.
Then it’s not a good dress, Eva replied.
Maddy wished she were here.
Petra held up another. ‘Ready for the next one?’
***
Dress Two was sleeker. It was a satin affair with a dramatic train and long sleeves that made Maddy feel a dash Victorian.
She walked out again.
Adam tilted his head. ‘That’s elegant.’
Maddy smiled and turned carefully so they could see the back. Her mother would want her money’s worth, emotionally speaking.
Her mother nodded. ‘Very sophisticated. Could be the one.’
Then she retreated to the changing room and, before Petra could unzip her, angled the mirror and took another photo.
Dress Two, she sent.
This time, the reply took thirty seconds.
Better. But you look like a high-end vampire who died in the eighteen hundreds. Which is fine if it’s what you’re going for.
Maddy pressed her lips together to stop herself laughing again.
Not as such, she typed.
How do you feel, though? Eva asked.
Maddy paused, trying to find a diplomatic review. In the end, she just tapped out the truth.
Silly.
The typing bubble appeared almost instantly.
Then say no to the dress.
Maddy grinned as she texted back.
My mother likes it.
Great. She can get herself one, Eva said. And you can get something YOU like.
Out in the main room, her mother’s voice floated through the curtain. Adam laughed politely at whatever she’d said.
They moved through dresses methodically. Lace that scratched. Sequins that glittered too brightly under the lights. A ballgown so heavy that when Maddy turned quickly, she almost fell over.
Each time she stepped out, she performed. Each time she went back inside, she sent Eva a photograph.
Too much?
Is this insane?
Do I look washed out?
And each time Eva responded with precise, thoughtful, and occasionally dry responses.
You’re disappearing.
How does it feel to breathe?
That colour’s not right for your skin tone.
It became a rhythm. Step out and smile. Step back and close the curtain. Text Eva.
It wasn’t that the dresses were all terrible. Some were kind of okay. One made her waist look good. Another gave her a kind of regal height. But the only opinions that seemed to matter were arriving in text bubbles on her phone.
Halfway through, Petra handed her an ivory dress with minimal embellishment.
Maddy pulled it on and stared. She didn’t look like a bride in a film. She looked like herself. But formal.
She stepped out thinking, This is it. They’ll have to see that this is it.
But there was a small pause.
‘Oh,’ her mother said. ‘That’s… simple.’
Adam leaned forward. ‘I like that one, but not as much as the first one.’
Back in the changing room, Maddy didn’t even hesitate before taking a photo.
This one, she wrote.
There was a longer pause this time before Eva responded.
There you are.
Maddy stared at the words. They meant more than she could explain.
***
Maddy walked back out in her civvies. Her mother was saying something about a veil while Adam nodded.
‘Well?’ her mother said, looking up. ‘What’s the pick?’
Maddy perched on the edge of one of the velvet chairs. She could almost hear Eva’s voice in her head. Just be honest. For crying out loud, it’s going on your body.
‘I think… I liked the last one,’ Maddy said.
Her mother blinked. ‘The plain one?’
‘It felt like me,’ Maddy said quietly.
There was a small silence.
Her mother drew in a breath. ‘I still think you should wear proper white on your wedding day.’
Maddy thought of the rows of blinding white fabric, of herself disappearing into them.
‘Mum,’ Maddy said with a head tilt. ‘Come on. I’m in my thirties, and Adam and I live together. You surely can’t think…’
Her mum started touching her neck anxiously. ‘It’s just a tradition.’
Adam looked between them. ‘We don’t have to decide this second.’
Petra, hovering diplomatically, nodded. ‘It’s often best to sleep on it.’
Jesus, there was that phrase again. Sleep on it. If she heard it one more time, she was going to start flinching at the sight of a pillow.
‘All right,’ her mother said at last. ‘We’ll sleep on it.’
Adam squeezed Maddy’s hand. ‘We’ll sleep on it.’
Maddy knew then that she wasn’t going to get her pick.
As they gathered their things and her mother wittered on about choosing a veil, which Maddy categorically didn’t want, Eva’s last text lingered in her thoughts.
There you are.