Chapter 10
ten
O nce the tree is placed in the corner of the living room, wrapped up in white twinkling lights and bogged down with years’ worth of handmade ornaments, it looks great.
Mom places the last armful of gifts under the tree, throwing my father a “don’t you even think about it” look that even I can read. He notices but still eyes the perfectly wrapped presents like a jewel thief casing their next job.
“Oh, hon. Leave your dress out for the masquerade so I can steam it,” she says, turning to me on the couch.
“Uhm, about that. I may have forgotten my dress,” I answer sheepishly.
“Forgotten? Or purposefully left it lying on your bed back at the house so you would have to go to Mercy’s?” she asks.
“I mean—she does always have the best vintage gowns.”
“You owe me ten, dear.” My mom ignores me, looking over her shoulder at my dad.
He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. “Thanks, peanut. I was saving that for raffle tickets.”
“What is going on?” I ask, looking between my parents.
“Your mother had a feeling you’d pull this.”
I suck in an offended gasp.
“Oh please, you do this every year, Koda. Let us old people have our fun.”
“I can’t with you two.” I finally laugh at their ridiculousness.
“What do you think? Black and lacey or red and sparkly?” Jennifer asks, holding out the two dress options.
“You can’t go wrong with the black, but it’s Christmas Eve; you should pick the red one.”
“But everyone will be in red!” She pouts.
When I step out of the dressing room, she holds each dress up to her front and switches back and forth while she looks in the three-way mirror.
“Not everyone,” I say.
Her eyes fly to mine in the mirror, and then she’s whirling around to stare me down. “Holy shit,” she whispers.
“I know, right,” I agree, just as stunned by how this vintage dress fits perfectly to my modern-day curves and long legs.
“You totally have to get that,” she insists.
“Oh, they’d have to pry it out of my cold dead hands.”
“Do you girls need anything?” Mercy asks before stepping into the changing area at the back of her shop.
When the curtain pulls back, she halts in place. A low, long whistle presses between her lips. “Damn, girl. Look at you. Glowing like a star.”
Mercy’s not much older than us, but she’s a local who decided to stay rooted and open her vintage clothing boutique. I don’t know how she manages to keep up the business, but being the last town before going through the mountain pass probably helps.
“I know! You always have the best pieces, but I’m pretty sure fate stepped in and made sure this dress was available for me. I think I want to be buried in it.”
“Better die young, then. I don’t think your granny self would look quite the same.”
“Morbid.” I laugh. Brushing my hands down the smooth champagne-colored silk.
Reeling in my self-obsession, I give Jennifer my full attention. “You know, with your coloring, you should go for jewel tones; something emerald or deep navy would look stunning.”
Her eyes scrunch tight, scrutinizing the two options still clasped in her hands.
“Wait!” Mercy shouts with excitement. “I’ll be right back.”
The whirlwind of a woman is gone and back before we can hang up the two dresses Jennifer picked and get me undressed. She’s just pulling down the tiny delicate zipper when Mercy swings back through the curtain, a fabric dress bag hung over her arm.
“Okay, I haven’t even looked for comps on this one yet. It was an online blind mass purchase, but I think it’s exactly what you need.”
She hangs the dress up, unzipping the cover painstakingly slow, before finally pulling the floor-length gown free.
“Woah.
“Wow.”
We say in unison. Mercy pulls the dress off the hanger and hands it over to Jennifer. Her face lights up when she holds it against her body, and there’s no question she loves it just as much as I love mine. I was right. The dress is a deep emerald, and it's perfection against her fair skin, peppered in freckles and rich auburn hair.
“Well, try it on!” I encourage her since she’s stuck in place.
“Right! Let’s get you out of yours, and you can help me get into mine.”
The gown looked just as gorgeous on her as on the hanger. With our purchases carefully bagged and paid for we walk down the sidewalk from Mercy’s to The Cafe Nook, the town’s coffee shop, at the other end of Main Street.
“It looks like you two lucked out at Mercy’s. Getting ready for the Masquerade?” Kathleen, the sweet owner, asks.
She sets the two steaming cups at our table with the small plates of pastries we ordered, plus a couple we didn’t.
“Kathleen, they’re perfect. I don’t know how she does it, but it’s magic.”
Kathleen laughs, giving us a knowing smile, before disappearing back behind the counter to ring up another customer.
“Okay, dress, check. Shoes?” Jennifer asks.
“I brought a simple pair of heels with me. They should work.” I tell her.
“Boo. Maybe my mom has something I can borrow.” She pouts. “Now, the question is your place or mine to get ready?”
I look at her across the table like she’s lost her ever-loving mind before we both crack up loudly. “Yours, obviously,” I say with a laugh.
“Obviously,” she confirms. “Soooo,” she says with a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Are we ever going to talk about what happened after the bar the other night?”
“He told Luke!?” I squeak and duck my head, looking around to see if anyone’s staring us down.
“Told Luke?” she asks, confusion written all over her face. “About what? I was talking about you two kissing in the middle of the street, ignoring us after you made us streak through the snow. What are you talking about?”
“Zach and I sort of, kind of, maybe, hooked up.”
“Like hooked up? Or hooked up?”
“Well, we’re not fifteen anymore, so hooked up,” I tell her, eyes wide, to get my point across.
“You bitch, we’ve spent the entire afternoon together, and you’re just telling me this now? Spill. I want every single detail.”
I let the floodgates open, sharing more intimate details than I ever expected I’d be willing to share, even with one of my oldest friends. By the time I’m done reminiscing and answering her million and one questions, I’m flustered from reliving that night.
“I always knew he’d have a big dick,” she says with a dreamy twinkle in her eyes. “It’s always the tall skinny guys that are hung like a damn horse.”
I brush off her very true statement. “We should probably get going if we want to make the movie night,” I say, pulling me from reliving that night in my head.
“Right.” She looks down to check her watch
I look out the window noticing the sky outside has already darkened, even though it’s hardly past four. “Did you drive or walk?”
“Drive. We can leave our dresses in there and head to the lodge unless you need to stop back at your place first?”
“Nope, I’m good. Let’s go!”