Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Nessa
“What a pain!” Nessa groaned. “I’m never going to find the right look.”
“That’s because you’re trying something new,” Liv said with great patience.
"What about this one?" Pulling a hanger out of her closet, Nessa slipped the dress over her head and stepped out from behind the closet door to show Liv, who was lounging in a chair.
"It's cute," Liv replied, but with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm. "I guess."
"What's wrong with it? It's not too bright, not too tight, no sparkles, no slits…" She looked toward the growing pile of bright, sparkly, and/or tight dresses on the bed, some with slits, all rejected by Liv. She'd left space on one side for the pile of potential date outfits. There weren't any.
"I can see your thong."
"No, you can't!"
"Cough," Liv ordered.
"What?"
"Pretend to cough."
Nessa raised her hand to her mouth and the dress hitched up the slightest bit.
"It's pink with white stripes."
"Fine," Nessa sighed, tossing the dress on the pile. Next, she took out a skimpy, sparkly, extremely short, and virtually transparent slip dress and dangled it in front of Liv by its spaghetti straps. "But when I met him, I was wearing this , and he didn't seem to mind."
"That was a private one-night stand. This is a proper date, at a restaurant. Ness, he's a minister! "
"He's also a TikTok fitness guy who posts videos of his workouts and his unbelievable body and has 750,000 followers!"
"But that's not who he is in his hometown, in public. That's, like, his alter ego."
"Very funny, Olivia–his altar ego?" Nessa rolled her eyes but she smiled, then turned and began sliding hangers back and forth in frustration. "But maybe you're right. Is there anything in here that could work?"
Liv came to look for herself and they stood side by side in silence. Finally, she reached out and tentatively touched the sleeve of a navy blue dress that Nessa sometimes wore for work events.
"This?"
But by now, Nessa's confidence in her wardrobe, previously unshakeable, was shaken. Even the nice navy blue dress was perhaps a little close fitting, possibly a little low cut.
"We need to go shopping. For everything. The dress, the shoes, the bag–everything. There's nothing here."
"Where would we go, though? Where do they shop?"
"'They'?"
"You know, ministers’… wives? Girlfriends?"
"Hold up, there–I'm just a minister's date. Does that sound weird? It does, doesn't it?"
"Wouldn't 'date' imply that you haven't already seen each other naked?"
"I guess that was the alter ego. Let's Google this."
"Eighteen million results," Liv murmured as they stood at Nessa's kitchen island, staring at her laptop screen with glasses of cold torrontés in their hands. "There must be something in eighteen million hits… Look, here's an article: 'The Minister's Wife Should Dress Sensibly.'"
"But what does that mean? " The word wife made her shiver.
"Hmm." Liv was scanning. "It says people will tend to judge you by your appearance first, but it also says that poor taste should not be mistaken for being humble."
"Yes!" Nessa brightened. "I have good taste and I'm humble!"
Liv opened her mouth to reply but, evidently changing her mind, closed it again. Scrolling down the page, she read aloud, "'... inconspicuous… simple… sensible…' You were right, we're going to have to start from scratch here–even your sweat pants aren't all that sensible. You know who this describes? Me! I should be the one going on this date."
"Maybe you should," Nessa replied miserably, sliding onto a stool. "Do you have anything I could borrow?" Liv’s idea of fashion was buying clothes at thrift shops when they had ten dollar ‘fill a bag’ sales.
"Sure, if dinner means he's taking you to a homeless shelter to serve it and clean up afterwards. I have just the thing for that. If you're going to a restaurant where someone will be serving dinner to you , not so much."
"You don't think I could have misunderstood about that, do you?"
"Look, here's a site called Grace Notes, for pastors’ wives. Lots of dresses. How about this one?" Liv pointed.
"It's covered with tiny flowers."
"I know! Very demure."
"It's peach." Her tone of voice was identical to the one she would have used if she'd said, "It's poop."
"Flattering to all skin tones, it says."
"I don't know if I like him enough to wear that where people will see me."
"You liked him enough to sleep with him, but not enough to wear an ugly dress?"
"It's like I'm pretending to be somebody I'm not! That doesn't seem like a good way to get to know each other."
"Could you think of it as cosplay?"
"And I'm Laura Ingalls Wilder?"
"You're not even trying."
"If I wore, like, a four-inch spike heel, maybe that would lighten it up a little? The collar is too high for a necklace–what kind of earrings would you put with this? I have some big crystal drops that would draw attention up and away from this… flowered peach slipcover?"
"The website shows it with low beige pumps, kind of a chunky heel, and pearl studs."
"Of course it does." Nessa sighed. "Let's just order it, all of it. Two-day delivery. I'm pretty sure this website doesn't offer any freebies to influencers. I do really like him, and Mamie was right–I can fit into his world, even if this is what it takes."
"Nessa, you're gorgeous no matter what you wear, because it's what's underneath that matters. Matt will see that."
"Thank you, sweetie, that's…" Nessa started, but as Liv's words registered, her face lit up. "Liv, good point! Once we get home, it's what's underneath that matters!"
"That is not what I meant!"
Nessa just smiled.
As she combed over the website, she clicked with a grim determination, willing herself to make the right choices that would meet Matt’s approval.
The shopping cart was full of nothing she’d ever actually wear in real life, but hey, the same was true of the four bridesmaids dresses that littered her closet. Who knew you could make a dress look like shiplap ?
And if her date went well, she might wear these plain, boring-as-cardboard dresses again. In church. In a pew, staring adoringly at her minister boyfriend as he bestowed wisdom and goodness on his flock.
“Ew,” she muttered under her breath.
“What’s wrong?” Liv asked, scratching the back of her neck, nose scrunched up as she peered at the screen. “Sticker shock?”
“More like letting my imagination run away with me.”
“What?” Liv feigned shock. “You? Never.”
Nessa kicked her lightly.
“Violence from a woman who wants to be her husband’s helpmeet?”
“ Stahhhp! ” Nessa joked back, but the word husband felt almost good. Matt as her boyfriend. Matt as her fiancé. Matt as her...
Life partner?
Nessa was Jewish. More culturally Jewish than observant, but still. Matt knew that, so it wasn’t some big secret. And he was a Unitarian Universalist minister, which wasn’t incompatible, she now knew. If her relationship with Matt was moving fast, so was her acquisition of knowledge about his job.
“You don’t have to dress for the part. You can just be you,” Liv said softly.
“I will still be me. Just… peach me. Peach-and-beige-heel me. I’ll pretend I’m dressing in retro 70s housewife style.”
“Mame could give you great pointers.”
“Mame can never, ever know about this dress.”
“Nessa -- ”
Click.
She did it. Her fingertip saved her – or betrayed her – and purchased the whole shebang.
“Well, now you’re committed.”
Nessa sighed. “He’d better be worth it.”
Liv gave her major side eye. “You wouldn’t go this far for someone who wasn’t. And he’d better do the same.”
“Those chunky heels would look awful on his frame.”
“You know what I mean!”
Nessa did.
And hoped Liv was right.
Her phone buzzed.
“Oh, Natalya. Just like clockwork,” Nessa said loudly, knowing Liv would eat it up. Her bestie, like all good, fierce, loyal friends, hated Natalya for being, well...
For being.
“What does she want now? A kidney for one of your sisters?” Liv raised her eyebrows and did a fair imitation of Nessa’s stepmom. “You haf two. Give Sonia ze good vun. She need eet more.”
While Nessa struggled not to laugh, she looked at the screen. Sure enough, Liv was mostly on the mark:
We saw your new Stanley for next year. Sonia cried with happiness when she saw. You can send for her birthday.
“Let’s see,” Liv said, reading over her shoulder. “Oh, man. She’s so greedy. Buy your own kid a damn water bottle! You can afford it!”
“This version won’t be released for four months,” Nessa explained. “The girls all love getting exclusive stuff.”
“The companies allow it?”
“I always ask. Some do, some don’t.”
“She really does circle your Instagram like a vulture, huh?”
“I like to think she’s paying attention to me.” Nessa could feel something like defensiveness rising up in her, and she fought it, struggling to stay more mature. Liv meant well. “She does Like my posts and reels, and comments nicely on lots of them.”
“Have you ever told Her Highness no?”
“Sure. Twice.”
“Let me guess. She pitched a fit?” Liv gasped. “Or, worse – she had to summon the Kraken?”
Liv knew her dysfunctional family dynamics all too well.
“Yes. Dad actually texted me both times.”
“He speaks!”
“Come on. He’s not that bad. He’s just... busy.”
“Busy ignoring his oldest child.”
“It’s not like that.”
Liv curled her lips in like she was holding back.
Because she was.
“He was reasonable when I explained,” Nessa elaborated. “We talked for like an hour. It was nice.”
“Good. I’m glad he gave you some attention,” Liv said, softening. “You’re so wonderful, and you deserve that.”
“Thanks.”
“And Natalya doesn’t have to always get what she wants.”
“She doesn’t. Didn’t.”
“I’m not sure which part I like more: that Carmine focused on you for an hour, or that Natalya got to stew in her own juices and not get her way.”
Nessa grinned. “Pretty win-win if you ask me.”
“You sure you’re cut out to be a minister’s wife? You seem pretty savage.”
Nessa looked down at the text message and laughed.
“How about I send the peach dress to Sonia, too?”
“Natalya would die,” Liv cackled. “That’s evil.”
“That’s me. The minister’s evil date.”
“No, Nessa,” Liv said, giving her arm a squeeze. “That’s my friend being who she is. Standing up for herself.”