23. Sea of Taffeta
CHAPTER 23
SEA OF TAFFETA
J ia
“What about this one?” Ari pulls out a blindingly white gown with flashy sequins across the bodice. It’s so loud a passing satellite could see it from outer space.
“Nope, don’t think so.” I stare out into the sea of taffeta and tulle in the bridal showroom in the hottest part of the garment district and curse my best friend for having convinced me to go on this little outing.
I should have just bought some random white dress online and called it a day. Who needs a fancy ballgown for a fake marriage? I’ve barely seen my fiancé since I moved into his penthouse… thankfully. Marco was gone this morning when I awoke, and I stopped by the boutique before meeting Ari and Yéye for this shopping disaster, thereby avoiding all potential proximity. If all goes well, I hope not to have to see that man until I’m forced down the aisle. Even better if he doesn’t show up at all, but somehow, I doubt that is going to happen. After yesterday’s argument on my bed, I’ve determined I need to stay far away from him, despite the way my stupid body reacts whenever he’s around.
Yéye clears his throat, drawing my attention from the onslaught of thoughts twisting my insides. He sits on the upholstered couch watching the action from afar. He insisted on attending this farce, probably to ensure I came home with a dress.
“At least try one on, Jia.” Arianna rifles through the never-ending racks, and all the white blurs across my vision.
Besides my obvious reluctance to marry the Italian mob boss, finding a gown with long sleeves is difficult. They are all either too conservative or too old-fashioned, too frumpy or too traditional. The scars on my arms only make this arduous process ten times worse. I wish Nanay was here, I wish my father hadn’t been such a monster, and most of all, I wish I wasn’t getting married!
Yéye shuffles over as if he’s noticed my impending meltdown and places a calming hand on my shoulder. “Is there truly nothing here you like, bǎobèi ?”
I shake my head, tears brimming in my eyes. God, what is wrong with me? I feel like I’m spiraling, like my entire life is slipping from my control.
Get it together, Jia . Sweeping the tears from my eyes, I delve into the racks beside Arianna once more, adamant on finding something at least semi-decent. What does it matter anyway? Clearly, this will never be the wedding of my dreams.
One of the sales ladies darts by, and grandfather stops her with a quick wave of his wrinkled hand. “Please bring the dress now.”
The skinny blonde drops everything and nods. “Yes, of course, Mr. Guo.” Then she scurries across the showroom and disappears through a door marked Alterations .
I spin toward my grandfather and lift a curious brow. “What dress, Yéye ? ”
“I had your grandmother’s wedding gown shipped here when I made the arrangement with Mr. Rossi.” He shrugs, a sly grin on his lips. “Just in case…”
A strangled sound erupts from my throat as the timeworn black and white photo surfaces to the front of my mind. Then to my nǎinai in her elegant gown, looking the picture of sophistication at her own arranged wedding. She used to carry the old picture with her everywhere, tucked in her variety of purses.
Emotion tightens my throat, and I try my best to swallow down the ache. “Thank you,” I finally whisper.
“She would have been honored for you to wear it, bǎobèi. I believe she kept it in the hopes that one day she could pass it on to you. She loved you so very much.”
My grandmother had only sons, and I was her only granddaughter. As much as I loved my mother, I would never wear her wedding gown with the knowledge of what a terrible marriage she and my father had. But Nǎinai loved Yéye, and he adored her. If it hadn’t been for my grandparents, I never would’ve known what a happy marriage looked like.
“And I loved her,” I barely manage.
Grandpa awkwardly tugs me into his chest and delivers a surprising display of public affection. Even Ari’s eyes go wide over his shoulder.
The blonde saleswoman rushes by with gowns haphazardly flung across her arms. She pauses just long enough to catch her breath. “Mr. Guo, room three is ready for your granddaughter, and the seamstress will meet you there to make any alterations needed.”
“Very well, thank you.”
“Ooh, yay!” Ari claps her hands. “I can’t wait to see you in your grandma’s dress.”
A smile lifts the corners of my lips, and for the first time since this arranged marriage bomb dropped, I’m excited. Ari tugs me to the dressing rooms, and Yéye follows a few measured steps behind.
When we reach room three, a buzz of excitement has my heart pumping faster. I step inside the chamber, and there, hanging from the wall is my nǎinai’ s dress. The endless lace stretches from the sophisticated high neck to the sheer long sleeves and intricate, sweeping train. Seeing it in person after so many years of staring at a grainy, worn picture is surreal.
I step closer and hesitantly reach for the delicate lace. Nǎinai was married at nineteen so this gown is over sixty years old, and still the fine fabric not only seems intact but in perfect condition. There’s no yellowing, no frayed edges.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper.
“Absolutely perfect!” Ari stands behind me, admiring the smooth lines of the gown.
The embroidery along the arms is sheer, perfect for our summer wedding, but the brocade appears elaborate enough to cover my scars. To this day, I’m uncertain if my grandfather knows of the tortures I suffered under my father’s hand. Forcing away the dark thoughts, I turn to the exquisite gown. Now, to see if it fits. The curve-hugging bodice was tailored for my petite grandmother, and though I’m far from tall at five foot four, I have a few inches and a couple pounds on her.
Right on cue, after a quick knock, a woman pops her head into the dressing room. “Hello! I am Olga, and I will be assisting you today. Would you like any help with the gown?”
My head bobs. I’m scared to touch it, terrified I’ll remove it from the hanger and it’ll disintegrate in my fingertips.
Yéye stands and dips his head in my direction. “I will give you a moment.”
The seamstress rushes in before I can reply to grandpa, then pauses in front of the dress. “It’s truly superb. They simply don’t make gowns like this anymore.”
My smile grows wider, and I begin to relax as Olga carefully removes it from the hanger. As she does, I take in the daring deep-V of the back. Wow, Nǎinai, you little vixen.
“How many days until the wedding?” the woman asks as she signals for me to undress.
My heart’s happy pitter-patter halts as I quickly count. “Three.” The answer pops out on a sharp exhale. I can’t believe it’s nearly here, and I don’t know a single detail about the event. Marco’s assistant has coordinated the entire affair, and whenever she’s reached out for my opinion, I ignored her. Maybe that was a mistake. The only thing I do know is that the ceremony will take place at St. Patrick’s Cathedral and the reception at the Waldorf. Since Marco’s brother owns a penthouse at the hotel, he was able to secure the last-minute venue. I’m sure it cost him more than just money.
“So soon!” Olga squeals as I step into the dress on autopilot, covering my arms until they’re hidden beneath the lace.
“I can’t wait!” Arianna claps her hands again.
I shoot her a scowl, and she tamps down on her excitement. Though I didn’t share all the dirty details with my friend, she knows this is a marriage of convenience and nothing more. Still, she’s ridiculously thrilled about the whole debacle.
As the lacy fabric brushes my skin, goosebumps ripple across my flesh. I hazard a quick glance at the mirror over Olga’s shoulder as she pulls the gown up my torso. Oh my God, I’m really doing this. I’m getting married…
“Go open the door!” Ari calls out from the elevator bank. “We’ve got the dress…”
Nǎinai ’s gown was like magic. It molded perfectly to my form, as if it had been made for me. Even the seamstress couldn’t believe that not even a single bit of alterations was needed.
With the tight deadline for the wedding, we really lucked out. And now with my grandma’s dress in hand, at least something would feel real about this arrangement. Maybe Yéye and Ari were right and I need to give this marriage a shot. My grandparents had been happy, perhaps there is hope for the mob boss and me after all.
As I approach the entrance to Marco’s apartment, my steps lighter than they have been in a while, I find the door ajar, and voices drift out into the hallway.
One voice, a female, sounds vaguely familiar, but I can’t quite place it.
I inch closer and the talking stops, the silence now overpowered by the increasing tempo of my pulse. What the… I whip the door open, and a furious scream lodges in my chest.
Marco leans against the kitchen counter with the realtor’s tongue jammed down his throat.