Chapter 8
Tallulah
More than a week had passed since Jamison came by my store, and my relationship with Blossom had improved. When I went home after my conversation with Jamison, she met me at the door and gave me a big hug, exclaiming, "Thank you, Mom!"
It took me a moment to understand why she was so happy. Apparently, before I arrived at home, Manuel had called and let her know Jamison had stopped by my store and, in her words, we were friends now.
No comment.
Today, she and I were going dress shopping, and her cousin, Keke, was meeting us at the store. We had a tight window since Blossom was getting married in less than three months, but the boutique we were going to had a reputation for performing miracles.
Blossom's father had agreed to pay for her dress and had given her a generous budget to work with. All we had to do was find the perfect gown.
Today I was driving Orange Julius, my vintage Volkswagen bus.
After we finished dress shopping, I was going to drop off a few boxes I had in the back before we went to lunch.
Years ago, I'd converted it into an environmentally friendly vehicle.
The original internal combustion engine had been removed and replaced with an electric motor and battery, along with a complete interior overhaul.
The vehicle originally belonged to my parents, and they had taken out the back rows of seats years ago, but I'd had the front and second rows reupholstered in crisp white leather, and the dashboard and gearshift updated.
My ex-husband had thought it was a waste of money to redo the old bus, but I had a deep attachment to it and couldn't let it go.
Every summer, from the age of thirteen until I graduated high school, my parents took my brother and me on the road, and we traveled the country in this beautiful orange and silver bus.
Because of those road trips, I had visited all 48 contiguous United States and had fond memories of the places I had seen and the people I had met.
I pulled into the plaza where the boutique was located. "We haven't talked about what kind of dress you want to buy. Do you have an idea?" I asked Blossom.
"I'm not sure. I like a few dresses that I saw with an A-line skirt, but I also like the mermaid design.
Maybe something backless? I know for sure I don't want the ballgown look.
Too big." She wrinkled her nose. "I'll probably know when I finally put the dress on and it's just right.
Did you know which dress you wanted to wear when you married Dad? "
"I did, but I didn't wear the dress that I wanted. His mother talked me out of it," I said.
"You didn't get to wear the dress you wanted at your own wedding?" Blossom asked, sounding appalled.
I slid into a parking space and turned off the engine.
"I didn't, but that was a long time ago.
" I didn't want to dwell on the topic, mainly because I didn't want to relive my disappointment.
I also didn't want to sound as if I was badmouthing her grandmother, though I secretly despised the woman and her domineering personality.
Back then, I had been young and worried about what other people thought.
I had wanted a nontraditional dress, but my ex-husband's mother pressured me into wearing traditional white.
I didn't listen to my mother, who told me I should do what I wanted since it was my day.
I didn't listen to my inner voice, either.
The only person's opinion that mattered was Estelle Nabors—because I knew she didn't think I was right for her son, and I desperately wanted her to like me.
The dress did look great on me, and we purchased it at a huge discount, but I wished I had stood my ground and worn the dress I ached to walk down the aisle in.
It had been an explosion of color—mostly maroon and pink shapes against a tan background. Fluid and flowy with long puffy sleeves, it also had a cutaway center that showed off my legs with each step, and when I stood still, the dress pooled at my feet. To this day I regretted my decision.
Conformity had been my priority during that period of my life.
At my current age, if I ever walked down the aisle again, I was going to wear what I wanted.
I might even try to find my dream dress.
That's the kind of conviction that comes with age and no longer being concerned with what other people thought.
As we strolled toward the front of the boutique, I heard, "Auntie Lulah! Blossom!"
Keke raced toward us in jeans and a bright orange shirt, her natural hair worn in a seventies-style Afro. A few years older than Blossom, she was my brother's eldest child and had driven from Indiana, where she now lived, to support Blossom.
After we exchanged hugs—both girls screaming excitedly as if they didn't talk on the phone all the time—we entered the boutique and were greeted by one of the bridal consultants.
He wore glasses and a suit and gave his name as Jones.
It wasn't clear if that was his first or last name, but we called him Jones since that's how he introduced himself.
Not long after, Keke and I were seated on one side of a dressing room that could accommodate two other families.
We waited in our area for Blossom to exit the dressing room in her first dress.
"Pretty," Keke murmured, inclining her head toward the other end of the room, where a group of four women and a little girl were oohing and aahing over their family member's pick—a column dress with a sweetheart neckline.
"I'm not crazy about the sleeves, but the rest of the dress is beautiful," I commented.
"Agreed." Keke wiggled her butt on the seat. "These chairs are so comfortable," she remarked.
"I wouldn't mind stealing one on the way out," I said out of the side of my mouth.
"It should fit easily in the back of Orange Julius," Keke said, giggling.
She sipped the non-alcoholic sparkling cider Jones had provided for us. There was also a small tray of grapes, strawberries, and cubed cheeses.
She leaned toward me. "So what do you think about Manuel?"
"I haven't seen much of him, but so far he seems like a nice young man." I kept my answer polite because I knew how close Keke and my daughter were.
"Such a PC answer, Auntie."
I smiled. "I don't know a whole lot about him, so I'm reserving judgment."
"Is he going to get my girl a ring?"
"Blossom said they're going ring shopping later today, so yes."
She sighed. "He should have surprised her. He better not be acting cheap with my cousin."
"How much did she tell you about him and his family?" The girls talked regularly, which was why Keke was here in the first place. Though Blossom had half-siblings, they were much younger and lived in Georgia. She and Keke had a closer, more sisterly relationship.
"Not much. I was surprised when she called and told me she was engaged. Daddy said you were surprised too." She cocked an eyebrow.
"Understatement of the year," I said.
We both laughed.
"As long as she's happy..." Keke said.
I nodded, unable to argue with such a profound statement. "What about you? Seeing anyone?"
"Nothing serious. I have a couple of guys on my roster."
"Excuse me. Does Asher know about this?" I asked, referring to my brother.
"Heck, no. You know how Daddy is. He's chill about everything except when it comes to his kids. Then he turns into a conservative, protective caveman." She rolled her eyes.
My brother could be a bit much at times, but as a parent, I also understood his point of view.
Before I could comment, Blossom came out in her first dress. I knew she had other dresses to try on, but this one already took my breath away.
Keke gasped.
With Jones holding her arm, Blossom carefully stepped up on the bridal pedestal to show off the floor-length mermaid design. The off-the-shoulder neckline skimmed her collarbone and was effortlessly flattering.
"What do you think?" She appeared to be holding her breath.
Keke glanced at me and then back at her cousin. "I love it," she said.
I nodded, struggling to speak because of the lump in my throat. This was happening. My little girl was a grown woman and getting married.
"You look beautiful," I finally managed.
Her face broke into an appreciative smile.
Jones made a few remarks about the fit and places where they could tailor the dress, but overall, we all agreed Blossom looked amazing.
The second dress she tried on was lovely but didn't match the breathtaking beauty of the first one. Neither did any of the others she tried on. By the fifth dress, the three of us knew she was wasting her time. The first gown was "the dress."
While Jones checked to see if they had Blossom's size in stock, she put it on one more time to confirm this was truly what she wanted for her wedding day. Standing on the pedestal, looking at herself in the mirror, her face broke into another smile. "This is the one."
Jones reappeared, and we all looked at him expectantly. He shook his head regretfully.
"If you have to order her dress, will she have it in time for the wedding?" Keke asked.
Jones clasped his hands in front of him and spoke directly to Blossom. "You're not giving me much time to work with, you know that, don't you?"
"Yes, I know," she whispered, her brow wrinkling with worry.
I had the impression Jones was enjoying the tension of this moment.
"We don't have your exact size in stock, and ordering the dress from the designer and then making alterations will take months.
You'll be married by the time your gown is ready.
But I have an idea," he said, shoving his glasses higher on his nose.
"This is our sample gown. If you're willing to buy it, we can start alterations next week. "
I held my breath as the room went still, the mirrors reflecting our faces as we all turned our eyes on Blossom.
"I'll take it!" she exclaimed.
Jones's mouth curved upward slightly. "Then I better get to work," he said.
I couldn't take my eyes off my daughter. So sure. So fearless. So excited. For a brief moment, my chest tightened as I envisioned everything that could go wrong.
Then I brushed aside my fears, reminding myself that I had done all I could to raise her well and couldn't protect her forever. At some point, she had to fly on her own.
I wrapped my arms around her and Keke, joining in as they joyously squealed and hugged each other.