Chapter Twenty-Six #2
The wedding gown featured her great-grandmama’s lace, nylon, and spandex longline bra as Hallie’s sleeveless corseted bodice.
She’d commissioned a local seamstress to add fabric to conceal her body while showcasing the nineteen sixties lingerie.
From there, she’d added a layered skirt from one of her mama’s old wedding dresses to the cinched waist of the corset, showing off her tiny frame.
The seamstress brought it all together, then raised the hemline in front by a foot for a dramatic high-low appearance.
Hallie wanted thigh highs and garters to peek as she walked, or perhaps thigh highs with small white bows at the tops.
She’d also dreamed of adding sprayed edges to the skirt in shades of purple and black but knew that would never fly with Bryce or his family.
Another point that saddened Tessa for Hallie’s sake.
A door opened at the side of the room, and a mass of white rocked forward.
Tessa performed a double take before recognizing the shimmering ball as Hallie.
She wore a corseted gown with long sleeves in a thin layer of illusion tulle that ran from her wrists to her waist, effectively covering her grandma’s lingerie.
The hemline on her high-low skirt had been lowered, or filled in somehow, hiding Hallie’s legs and stockings.
Assuming the thigh highs were under there at all.
“There she is,” Mrs. Haymaker said. She approached the mirrors to wait for Hallie’s sullen arrival. “Isn’t this better?” She motioned for Hallie to spin and face the waiting group.
The attendant reappeared and rushed forward to meet them. “It’s lovely,” she said, smoothing a palm over the sheer coverage of Hallie’s arms and along her side. “Exceptional.”
“As I said,” Mrs. Haymaker announced, nodding to underscore her words.
Hallie stared at the attendant’s shoes.
“Darling, chin up,” Mrs. Haymaker commanded. “You’re a bride. Shoulders back.”
One of the sisters, whose name Tessa had already forgotten, moved closer. “Your friends are here, sweetie.”
Hallie’s gaze snapped upward and darted toward the door, finding Tessa and Kate in a nanosecond. Then her pretty hazel eyes filled with tears. Spawned by rage, frustration, or heartbreak, Tessa wasn’t sure, but based on the state of Hallie’s beloved wedding gown, all were appropriate.
Tessa waved.
Kate locked her arm with Tessa’s at the elbow, likely to restrain one, or both of them, from running to Hallie’s rescue.
“Smile, darling,” another of the older women said. “You look as if you’re going to cry.”
“Do you regret what you’ve done to your hair?” a third woman asked.
“Marcy?” Mrs. Haymaker asked the attendant. “Let’s have some champagne. I think we need to loosen the nerves.”
Marcy turned and left.
“I don’t drink,” Hallie said, but it was too late. Everyone had moved on.
At the mention of nerves, Mrs. Haymaker, her friend, and her sisters spoke at once, sharing tales of their own prewedding memories and anxieties.
Kate tightened her grip on Tessa. “Tell me they know she doesn’t drink and just forgot?”
“They must,” Tessa said. “She’s been dating Bryce for eons.”
“Did you hear what that one said about her hair?”
Tessa nodded.
The women closed in on Hallie, tugging and fussing at the gown.
Drinks arrived, and Hallie waved away the champagne, asking instead for water.
Tessa bit her lip, hating how helpless their usually fiery friend appeared.
Together, she and Kate moved slowly forward, until the older women took notice and parted, making room for them to reach Hallie.
“How can we help?” Tessa asked.
Hallie’s gaze flickered to the group of women, chatting among themselves. “They hate my hair and want to make all these changes permanent,” she said quietly.
Kate tugged gently on the illusion tulle, and it rode up at Hallie’s waist.
Tessa breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever happened to Hallie’s gown, it could still be undone. “Do you want me to say something?”
“We can help you take this off right now,” Kate said, still gripping the overlay.
Mrs. Haymaker carried a flute of champagne to Hallie.
Tessa bristled. “Hallie doesn’t drink.”
The woman glanced at Hallie’s midsection. Her lips formed a small cat-that-ate-the-canary smile. “I see.”
“I’m not pregnant,” Hallie said. “I just don’t drink.”
Her soon-to-be mother-in-law blinked, stunned.
Was the word pregnant too direct?
One of the other women smiled at Hallie. “Will you stay home with the children, when the time comes?”
Mrs. Haymaker reanimated at that. “She’s already stopped working.”
“I’m going back to work,” Hallie said. “I’m looking for something better suited.”
“I recommend having children first,” Mrs. Haymaker said. “It’ll be harder to get your figure back if you wait much longer. None of us are getting any younger, and time is such a cruel thief. Am I right?”
Her friend and sisters nodded sagely.
Kate’s jaw dropped. “I beg your pardon.”
Hallie grabbed Kate’s elbow and towed her toward the fitting room door. “Help me get out of this?”
Tessa hurried along behind, unwilling to stay with the wolves in Chanel.
Soon enough, they’d returned the dress to Marcy without a signature on the changes. Hallie promised to call later to give a verbal approval, after she’d had time to think.
Back on the sidewalk, they waved their goodbyes to Mrs. Haymaker and her entourage.
“I don’t hate the illusion tulle,” Hallie said. They moved slowly toward a nearby café. “You guys want coffee?”
“Yes,” Tessa and Kate said. Tessa also wanted to scream that Hallie was making a huge mistake, but her place was to support, even if she didn’t understand, so she held her tongue.
“I really wanted the high-low front with the thigh highs. We compromised for what you saw in there. Maybe I can wear my boots instead of heels.”
Tessa looked over Hallie’s head at Kate, who glared at Mrs. Haymaker’s taillights in the distance. Hallie’s days as an independent woman were numbered, and as her closest friends, they were stuck on a razor’s edge.
“If you’re happy, we’re happy,” Tessa said finally.
Hallie leaned against a stone half wall outside the café. “No, you aren’t. You’re trying not to push me off the proverbial cliff I’m on.”
“We’re on,” Kate corrected.
Hallie smiled. “I can’t end an epic relationship a week before the wedding just because the butterflies are gone and his mother’s an overbearing boomer.”
Tessa bit her tongue again, because anyone absolutely could break off any relationship over any reason they chose. In fact, no one needed a reason at all. Also, Hallie had an abundance of legitimate concerns, not just the two she mentioned.
Hallie looked at Tessa. “How did you know it was time for a divorce?”
Tessa groaned. “There were lots of things that added up over time. The final straw was when it became clear that I was expected to champion his career, but he never championed mine. That’s how I knew that we weren’t equals in his mind, and I couldn’t stay with a partner who thought of himself as superior. ”
Hallie nodded. “I get that. Leaving is such a big move, especially now. I’ve packed up my whole house.”
“But you haven’t sold it yet,” Kate said.
“I think I’m just really hoping for some kind of sign,” Hallie said.
The café doors opened, and a group of women strode onto the sidewalk, carrying shopping bags and disposable cups. A small redhead froze, then broke away from the pack.
“Hals?” Eloise called. “What are you doing here?” She waved at Kate and Tessa. “Hey! You’re all here. Girls’ day out? Me too.”
Hallie’s eyes bulged, but she didn’t speak.
“How’s that for a sign?” Kate mused.
“A gleaming red one,” Tessa said.
Eloise’s smile faded a bit. She looked nervously from Kate to Tessa, then back to Hallie. “Well, hey, I’m glad I ran into you, because I didn’t get a chance to say something before— Thank you for telling Quinn to go to hell for me. I should’ve done it myself.”
Hallie brightened. “Oh, it’s no problem. I should’ve done it years ago.”
Eloise laughed softly. “I walked out about five minutes after you.”
“Really?”
Eloise nodded. “I quit and left him to handle everything on his own until the next shift arrived. I’m sure I’ll never see my last paycheck, but it was worth it.
I don’t want to work anywhere it’s acceptable to treat others the way he treated you.
I watched it happen to you, but you stuck up for me, and I’m so sorry. ”
Her clutch of friends waited impatiently. “El!” one woman called.
Eloise lifted a finger to her friend, asking them to give her one more minute. “I wanted to call and tell you, but I realized I don’t have your number. How is that possible?”
“We can fix that,” Hallie suggested, extending a hand in her direction.
Eloise gave her phone to Hallie and waited while she added herself to the contacts.
“Text me, and I’ll save your number,” Hallie said.
“Right.” Eloise thrust a thumb over her shoulder. “The crew awaits, but maybe you and I can grab lunch or a coffee sometime?”
Hallie nodded rapidly as she watched Eloise turn and head back to her friends. “I would fucking love that,” she whispered, though Eloise was too far away to hear.