15. Quinn
Quinn
“I can’t decide if I want something short and cute or something long and elegant,” Allegra says as she sifts through white dresses at Tie the Knot bridal parlor.
“What did you wear the first time?” I ask and it’s obviously as soon as the question leaves my mouth that I am distracted.
Allegra looks over at me. “Really?” she asks. “The Queen of Matrimony doesn’t remember what her best friend wore to her wedding? My only wedding, by the way.”
“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” I say, mentally kicking myself.
She has only been married one time because Dustin was and is her soulmate.
We are here, not because she is getting married again (that wouldn’t make any sense) but because she and Dustin are renewing their vows, even though it’s only been five years.
Some people might find that frivolous, but honestly, in today’s day and age and with the current divorce rates considered, every passing year is a triumph and something to be celebrated.
I am elated that they are doing a vow renewal, even if I am currently mentally somewhere else.
“This last wedding took it out of me,” I say, even though it’s a lousy excuse.
“I can’t imagine why. You’ve only signed a contract with Lucifer himself. I don’t care how good the hors d’oeuvres are, it can’t possibly be worth it,” she says as she pulls out a high-low.
“That’s cute,” I say.
“It is…but it’s a little fluffy for my taste,” Allegra says, putting it back.
“I do remember your wedding, Allegra,” I say. “Your gown was Vera Wang, if I remember right.”
“It was. And I think I was something simply this time. Something I don’t have to wear a bra with,” she says, pulling out a very understated yet elegant satin gown.
It’s gorgeous, though very much something I personally would wear a bra with. But Allegra has always been a freer spirit than me.
“Are you going to try anything on?” She asks, plucking another similar dress from the clearance rack.
She knows me too well. Despite the fact that I am not getting married (soon, anyway) or even in a relationship for that matter, I never pass up an opportunity to try on gowns.
Because why not? I snag a very sparkly, very princess-like, very expensive dress off the New to the Floor rack and also a moss green and white floral bridesmaid’s dress because I need something to actually wear to Allegra’s renewal.
Once we are in the fitting room (a large one where we can help each other), we start stripping down, me to my bra and panties and her to just her panties. The girl is really planning on going natural.
“So what did he do this time?” she asks as she pulls the first of her gowns off the hanger.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Reid. What did he do to have you drifting off to space today?” she asks.
I let out a sigh. “The better question is what didn’t he do,” I say. “He’s just so…he didn’t follow the rules.”
“Rules?” she asks.
“I told him he needs to stop being so annoyingly grim at the weddings. For one, he wanted a date for appearances. And nobody likes a wet mop on their big day. Yet everything that comes out of his mouth is negative,” I say, starting with the green and white dress.
It’s mid-length, whimsical, backless, and perfect, and I don’t even have to do more than one spin to know I’m buying it.
“Again, I’m not surprised. Can you zip me?
” she asks, turning around. The dress is perfect, floating around her tall, thin frame like a halo, as if it hardly touches her skin.
With her long, natural chestnut-brown hair, she looks like she walked straight out of Rivendell in The Lord of the Rings.
The only thing she’s missing is a crown and maybe Aragorn.
Speaking of that…
“What are you doing?” I ask as she takes a screenshot of herself.
“Showing the dress to Dustin,” she says.
“You can’t do that!” I say, swiping her phone from her hand. “It’s bad luck!”
“Lordy, Quinn,” she laughs, gently reaching for the phone, which I do not give her. “It’s a wedding. It’s a renewal. It’s not like we can jinx it.”
“It’s still bad juju,” I tell her. “And anything can be jinxed. Let it be a surprise.”
Allegra sighs but indulges me and turns back around so I can unzip it.
“I know he’s a divorce lawyer,” I say, going on with my own problems, “But I just can’t imagine anyone not having at least a thread of romance in them.”
“Maybe he’s been burned,” she says. “Maybe he used to be a hopeless romantic and the love of his life broke his heart into so many shards that it’s irreparable.”
I scoff. “Yeah. Right. And maybe my prince charming is about to walk through the door of the parlor just waiting to sweep me off my feet and carry me off into the sunset,” I mutter, stepping into the princess gown.
“I’m just saying,” she goes on, trying on another dress that is almost identical but with some light beadwork and a longer train. “That amount of disdain is usually the product of some kind of damage. Which one do you like better?”
“You’re right,” I say. “I bet his mom dropped him on his head when he was a baby. I like this one better. It’s fancier.”
“I kind of like the lack of luster in the first one…” she says, and I knew that would be her answer. She’ll get the first one, match it with a dainty solitary necklace, maybe some dangly earrings, a whisper of makeup and look like gold. As Allegra can do.
Meanwhile, I turn for her to zip my dress up. Once it’s all tied together, I stand in front of the mirror. And we both stop.
“Wow, girl,” she says.
“Yeah…” I whisper, and as much as I hate it, I know I’m about to get emotional. “These are the kinds of dresses I tried on before…”
“I know,” she says as we both remember what happened.
“Speaking of jinxing,” I say. “Maybe that’s what happened.”
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“I used to go to bridal shops all the time, trying on dresses before he even proposed…” I say.
“That didn’t jinx it,” she says gently. “Mark fucked it up.”
I crack a shaky smile, only because Allegra does not say ‘fuck’ often.
“But girl, you need to see this dress in its full glory,” she insists.
“Why?” I sniff.
“Because it’s beautiful. Because it’s you and this is what you do. You love weddings and all things marriage, and seeing how beautiful you are in your dream dress will just remind you that someday, your prince is going to walk in the door and sweep you off your feet.”
“What makes you so sure?” I ask.
“Because you deserve it. Because you’re always an amazing bridesmaid. You always encourage love. And you’ve literally dedicated your life to helping other people believe forever is possible,” she says, pulling the curtain open. “Now, come on. Come see what I see.”
I follow my friend to the front of the store, and even though we are here for her, she steps aside with a humble smile and gestures for me to step up on the stage in front of the mirrors. And sure enough, it takes my breath away.
Sweetheart neckline. Delicate straps. Poofy skirt made of layers upon layers of tulle and organza. A train that will require no less than three bridesmaids to splay it out before my walk down the aisle. It’s everything I ever wanted.
“Someday,” I whisper to myself before smiling.