Chapter 17 #3
Magnolia stared at her reflection in the trio of mirrors surrounding the pedestal. "It is fun." She said that as if she'd only now realized it. "I have to remind myself it's really just a big party with a random assortment of sacred choreographies to make it difficult but also awesome."
"Don't forget about the embedded patriarchal structures and unattainable social standards," I added with a laugh because we weren't dismantling the marital-industrial complex today. Just kicking a few rocks at it while drinking champagne.
"Right? God save me if I accidentally use my third cousin's colors from her wedding nine years ago or the same first dance song Rob's sister's maid of honor played when she got married.
Don't get me started on some of the traditions.
I know they have significance to some people but, dude, I arrived at this point through some majorly non-traditional paths and a lot of that stuff feels uncomfortable to me.
I'm too old for someone to give me away, you know?
And it's not about my dad because he's awesome and he'll do anything I ask.
" She met my eyes in the mirror. "My father is walking me down the aisle but I couldn't hang with any of the 'who gives this woman' language in the ceremony.
I give myself. No one else has that right. "
I felt that in my bones. So much that I couldn't respond for a moment for fear of a blubbering flood of words falling from my mouth. Instead, I took a sip of the now-flat champagne and nodded. "That's fair. I get it."
"Thank you for not telling me I'm a selfish wench for not wanting my father to essentially hand off ownership of me to my future husband in front of three hundred people," she replied.
Though there was a part of me that didn't get it, not because I wanted to be given away but because it hadn't crossed my mind anyone would wrestle with the degree to which their father would be involved in their wedding ceremony.
I couldn't sympathize with Magnolia too much as I still didn't know what an ordinary father-daughter relationship looked like.
To my mind, it was much like wondering how I'd handle an extra toe.
You'd paint the nail of course but did you play it up with a ring or anklet or live life like it didn't exist?
I didn't know the answer to that one but I nodded along with Magnolia just the same.
"These are good problems to have. I'm aware of that," she continued.
"I'm fortunate to have all this and I shouldn't whine about being given away or abandoning all my anti-diet mindsets to squeeze into this dress.
I'm surrounded by blessings and I get to marry my favorite guy in a few days and my life is good. "
"But a cheeseburger would be real nice right about now."
Magnolia pointed at my reflection. "Bingo."
From the other side of the shop, Diana called, "Zelda? Zelda, where did you go, dear?"
"We're right here, Mom," Magnolia replied. "Just turn around, take a few steps away from all the white and fluffy stuff, and—there you go. See? We didn't go anywhere."
Diana shot her daughter a huffy glare. "Zelda, I found the most unbelievable dress for you."
"I already found one," I said. "With the spaghetti straps and the full skirt? Floral print, no back?"
"That's for Magnolia's wedding," she replied, clearly amused at my confusion. "This is for your wedding."
I wasn't even drinking the champagne and I choked. "What?" I asked between coughs.
A sales assistant appeared beside Diana, a pool of silvery fabric spilling over her arms.
"You have to try it on," Diana insisted.
My stomach was both in my throat and on the floor. "Oh, I can't—"
"Mom, you're being pushy."
"It's not pushy when it's helpful," Diana replied. "What would it hurt to try it on? We're here and we have time, and who knows? It might look like a secondhand beet sack."
The sales assistant's eyes popped at that comment. "I'd be happy to help you if you'd like to step into a fitting room," she offered in a tone that said ma'am, this is no beet sack.
"What would it hurt, Zelda?" Diana asked again as she crossed the room toward me and tucked my hair over my ear in a move that was so purely maternal it cracked something inside me. "You're not required to like it. If you hate it, you hate it. You can't hurt my feelings."
"That's false," Magnolia said as the pair of seamstresses guided her off the pedestal. "Don't believe her."
Ignoring her daughter, she set her hands on my shoulders and smiled like this moment, us here in the dress shop, was the highlight of her day. Like I was the highlight. "If you love it then that means you know what you like when the time is right."
When I hesitated—because there was no obvious right choice ahead of me—the sales assistant grasped the hanger and held up the diaphanous gown for me to see. "It is lovely," she said.
Diana was right about it being unbelievable.
The skirt was full but delicate, lacking the volume of Magnolia's.
Embroidered petals and leaves blanketed the top layer of the moonlight fabric.
Wispy, raw-cut tulle elbow-length sleeves and a deep v-neck made it sexy and bohemian all at once, like it was meant to be worn without shoes or undies.
"Okay," I heard myself say.
I followed the assistant—her name was Stacy, she reminded me—back to the fitting room where I'd tried on everything else Diana had selected for me.
There was something sacramental about stepping into a dress designed for one specific moment in a woman's life. It was a threshold, one I hadn't expected to cross any time soon.
This is just part of the fun. This is what mother-daughter shopping excursions are all about. It's just a dress. It doesn't mean anything.
I continued telling myself this as Stacy zipped and buttoned and laced me into the dress.
She made noises about the color being a good complement to my skin and the style flattering my shape.
I didn't dispute those points but that had more to do with me tracing the narrow raw silk sash at my waist and trying to reconcile the quiet in my head where there should've been noise. So much noise.
I'd never thought much about my father giving me away because I'd never thought much about getting married.
My life was a landscape dappled with exits rather than commitments.
I abandoned things like it was my purpose for existing.
I packed up. I walked away. I didn't look back. At least not when anyone was watching.
Choosing a person, a place, a future—that wasn't something I knew. The champagne and the wisteria and the nearly sheer layers of star-glow fabric were for someone else, someone who'd earned herself a wedding gown.
And that wasn't me being tough on myself. No, my future was a giant question mark, an ongoing diet of figuring it all out and fixing myself up. I was in no condition to slip on a dress and wonder who'd walk me down the aisle.
When I stepped onto the pedestal and Diana launched into a string of squeals and coos high enough to summon forest animals, I had to force the words "it's just a dress" into my mind. Had to tell myself this was a game of make-believe, not the first spike of wedding fever.
It's nothing. It means nothing.
"Okay, Mom," Magnolia said from beside her on the sofa, out of her gown and back in her sundress and sandals. "You were right about this."
I shifted to get a look at the translucent back and Diana seized that opportunity to say, "You love it. I can tell."
Because deflecting was my best friend, I replied, "Oh, well, I don't know. It's very pretty but it doesn't…and I can't…and—"
Putting an end to my word salad, Diana cut in, "Yes, you can." She pushed off the sofa and moved closer to the pedestal, gathering the short train and letting it flutter behind me like a shimmering fog. "You can, my dear, and you know. Your face says it all."
Yet I couldn't say it all, not until I understood what I was saying. I pressed my fingers to my lips.
"I wish I could pull off boho," Magnolia said. "It just looks so effortless and cool on you."
I forced a laugh because it was the only thing I could do to stifle the keening pressure to know what was happening to me, to understand everything about this immediately. "You looked effortless too, I promise. And classic, which is just as good as cool. That dress was meant for you."
She locked her fingers together around her phone. "By that logic, this dress was meant for you."
That wasn't the direction I'd expected this to take. I wasn't prepared to slip on the one this evening and I didn't know how to put my feelings about this in the proper order.
I turned back to the mirror, again surprised to find myself in the reflection. Stacy tucked a headband behind my ears and put a bouquet of silk flowers in my hand while she explained something about the fabric or the designer. I didn't hear much of it.
The boutique's door chimed as it had several times since we'd arrived.
I noticed a spot of shine on the gown's bodice and realized several of the embroidered petals were studded with seed pearls and gems. I liked the subtle sparkle of it as much as I liked the open back, the drapey sleeves, the airy fabric that seemed to weigh nothing. It was all of my things, all at once.
Who knew there was a dress for me and all my me-ishness? One unique and funky and also achingly romantic? It shouldn't have made sense, shouldn't have looked like a dream come to life. And it shouldn't have found me now when it was the last thing I needed.
"Yes. Hello. I'm just here for my—"
My attention snapped to the deep, demanding voice on the other side of the shop and found Ash staring at me, his lips parted and a slight twist of confusion on his brow.
"Zelda." He sounded breathless.
"You can't be here," Diana cried, advancing toward him with her arms raised like she was trying to chase a raccoon away from her kitchen garden. "You can't see the dress—"
"Not now, Mom."
Ash crossed the shop, Magnolia and Diana watching him as he rounded the pedestal to stand between me and the mirror. I sensed a hot flush climbing up my chest and neck, settling at my cheeks.
He didn't say anything as he took in the dress, the headband, the bouquet. Then, he cupped my flaming cheek and leaned in for a kiss almost as airy as this gown. "Now this is what I mean when I say I want you in a Zelda dress."
Behind us, Diana let out a cheer and Magnolia said something about not letting it go to her head but neither of us paid them any attention.
Ash leaned in, dragged his lips up my neck, and asked, "How quickly can you get out of this? I need to know for right now and the next time you wear it for me."