Paige #2
Despite the backhanded compliment, and not saying so much outright, I now know she actually likes the dress I picked out for the ceremony.
The reception dress is plain, and I liked that about it.
It is a fitted sheath of ivory silk with a straight neckline just below my collar bones in the front and dips to a V at my mid-back, with long sleeves.
I felt incredibly elegant in that dress when I tried it on and thought it would be an excellent option for the dinner and dancing portion of the night Mama has planned.
I sigh quietly and reach for the third garment bag, unzipping it and pulling out the knee-length fitted dress that hugs my hips and makes me feel so very feminine.
It has a squared neckline that shows just a hint of cleavage, and long sleeves made of lace very similar to the one used on my ceremony dress.
I loved that it was less formal, and very sexy in the way it hugs my curves, while still being demure enough for the occasion.
“This is not at all what I would have picked for you,” Mama finally says, taking a step back from the wardrobe and looking at all three dresses in turn once more.
That’s an understatement. The dresses she has on hold are all ballgowns with full skirts and flounces. Mine are all simple and stunning.
“But they aren’t the worst options. They’re just not the vision I have for you and this wedding. They’re all form-fitting. You looked so beautiful in a ballgown, like a princess.”
That is a huge compliment from Mama. She hasn’t outright forbidden me to wear any of them, which means she approves even if she would prefer her own choices.
“The ballgowns didn’t feel like me. I loved all three of these dresses because they made me feel beautiful and sophisticated.”
“But did you feel like a bride?” Mama’s face shows true concern for once, and my defenses lower.
“Yes, Mama, I did. Especially the ceremony dress.”
I feel a smile taking over my face as I look at the dress. It really is stunning. I reach out and run my hand over the lace tiers of the mermaid-style skirt, remembering the moment I tried it on and knew it was the one. I was giddy in that moment, my own breath short as I took in my reflection.
“The lace pattern is very similar to Nanny Fairchild’s wedding dress.
The fit works really well for my body type, and the lace on the straps, being flowers and leaves, is such a sweet detail.
It gave me secret garden vibes that would be right at home in Elysium.
I felt like a fairy princess as well as a bride, honestly.
” I look over at Mama and the smile slips off my face. “What’s wrong?”
Mama is weeping. Big tears slide down her cheeks as she covers her mouth with her hands.
I take a step toward her and wrap my arms around her shoulders as they begin to shake with silent sobs.
I make comforting noises as I hold her, not sure what happened just now, but wanting to make sure she’s okay.
Mama does not cry. She may shed a furious tear or two from time to time, but this is unabashed emotion, unlike anything I’ve seen from her.
Mama takes a few deep gulping breaths and her sobs slow, then stops. She pulls away from my embrace and pats at her cheeks delicately, which does nothing to stem the flood of tears that has ruined her makeup.
“I wish I could have been there with you when you tried it on. I missed out on something special and will never get that experience again.”
“You didn’t miss a thing. We had our shopping trip to try on dresses and remember, you will be the one helping me get ready. You will see the dress on before anyone else does. Even before Hayes sees it.”
Seeing my mother break down like this alters a part of my brain that considers her the most stubborn and unaffected person I know.
She really cares, despite all of her controlling instincts.
Or maybe it’s because she cares so much that she wants to control all parts of my life?
Either way, I know she cares, and I also know a little distance in our relationship would do us both wonders.
“Very well. Let me freshen up in the bathroom.”
The unexpected emotion makes me want to dig deeper into her psyche and find out who this new, weeping woman is. “Mama, can I ask you a question?”
“You just did, you silly thing, but go ahead.” It’s never a simple response, always a critique.
I falter, wanting to dive into the whys of her actions and the difficulty she brings to my life but not wanting to put her on guard and turn this into a fight.
“Do you think I am capable of living my own life, without constant input and direction from you or Daddy?” I ask, phrasing it as delicately as possible.
She walks into the ensuite bathroom, and I follow hesitantly, keeping my face placid and open so as not to rile her up. It really is a tricky situation, though I feel like we may be able to get to a place of trust and openness. Someday. I hope this is the start.
“I care about you so very much,” she starts, grabbing a tissue from her vanity and patting her eyes.
“It can be… difficult… to allow you to have free rein of your life with everything that could hurt you. I’ve seen how the world wants to eat up sweet things like you, and I want to protect you from that.
I have failed over and over again to keep you from being hurt, so my instinct is to build a wall around you and make sure you stay within my defenses.
” The fierceness of her protective instincts forces its way into her features, pulling down the corners of her mouth and furrowing her eyebrows.
“Isn’t growing up about making mistakes so you can learn from them?” I hedge quietly.
“Why should you have to make any mistakes if I can keep you from getting hurt and teach you the lesson you would have learned anyway?” she retorts.
“Sometimes it takes learning it for yourself for the lesson to stick, right?”
She flattens her lips and looks like she’s about to argue, so I continue.
“What I really mean is, I don’t want to make mistakes, exactly, I just want to be free to choose for myself what happens in my life, rather than always being told what to do or how to do it.”
Mama sits on the bench at her vanity and drops her face into her hands, looking wearier than I think I’ve ever seen her. She sighs deeply and drops her hands, one arm staying on the vanity and fingering a strand of pearls lying on a silver tray with her perfume bottles.
“There are many parts of this world I wish I could shield you from. There is so much evil that would tear you apart. I’ve spent your entire life worried about what could happen and doing everything in my power to protect you from the worst of it.”
“You’ve done a great job of that,” I say, settling onto the bench next to her and nudging my shoulder into hers.
“No, I haven’t.” Her voice breaks on the word and my heart goes with it.
“Despite my best intentions, you were still assaulted in high school during the one party I let you attend, and now you’ve gone off and married someone much too old and just all wrong for you.
I couldn’t stop the worst from happening to you despite my best efforts, and it breaks my heart anytime I think of my failures.
” A tear tracks down her cheeks and she makes no move to brush it away.
I wrap my arms around my middle and fight through my own rising anxiety at the mention of the trauma.
“What happened with Garrison in high school was awful. It ruined a part of my life and took an innocence from me that I’ll never get back.
But it also taught me to be wary of other people’s intentions.
It kept me out of trouble for the rest of high school and college because I knew better than to hang with that crowd or even try to date.
As hard as it was to go through that, maybe it saved me more trouble down the road, which is valuable in itself.
I’m squeaky clean for this generation, and you don’t see that much. ”
She huffs out a bitter laugh. I can feel the tension radiating off of her through the closeness of our shoulders on the bench.
I want this to be the end of the conversation, but I know there is more that must be discussed before we can ever move past her betrayal.
I inhale deeply and fight the tremors from coursing through me.
“Still… You made a mistake wanting to arrange a marriage for me with Garrison for your own benefit. You completely disregarded my safety and peace of mind so you could get what you wanted in the end. That wasn’t done out of love, Mama, and you have to accept that it changed our relationship irrevocably. ”
Mama’s chin drops, tears falling down her cheeks again.
“Maybe I was too lost to my own ambitions to see it clearly at the moment. Your father and I have had many discussions over the last few weeks about what I kept from him and how I could have thought it was beneficial to set you back in Garrison’s path,” she says with unusual trepidation.
“I may have been… wrong… to think that Garrison would have changed or not to have fought for you when it happened all those years ago. You’re right, I made a mistake, but more than that, I wasn’t protecting you at all.
Even when I’m trying to protect you, I just end up hurting you.
I’m a failure.” Mama’s voice is weak and stammering when she usually oozes confidence.
Admitting fault does not come easily to her, and to have messed up so epically and having to own it now is the antithesis of her typical cool confidence and bravado.
“As for marrying Hayes—I hope you can see that I am head over heels in love with the man, despite any objections you have. Being with him has taught me to value my opinions and desires, to know my worth, and to ask for what I want. He’s incredibly caring, loving, and protective as well, and he makes me feel cherished beyond anything else. ”