19. Maggie
NINETEEN
MAGGIE
“This is the dress?” Alyssa said, eyebrows hiked to her hairline as I arm-wrestled the wedding dress out of the closet to show her.
“Yep. This is the dress my monster-in-law just had to try on despite how many times I told her no.” I draped it over the guest bed because it was easier to spot the damage from this vantage point.
That’s why I invited Alyssa over after I ran into her at The Trailhead Café—to see the train wreck for herself.
Although, the invitation might’ve been partially motivated by the desperate desire to keep my mind off Luke and that insanely hot kiss. And his asshole-level reaction after we nearly got caught.
He’d been icing me out ever since, which would feel less hostile if I could simply stay out of his way.
But that was all but impossible since the planning and construction of the Legion’s parade float was happening inside the Legion Hall—the same place I agreed to meet Phil to help him with his VA paperwork.
If it’d just been Phil, I could’ve been in and out within an hour. But Phil brought friends, and no matter how uncomfortable it was to have Luke hovering in the background, taking charge of the whiteboard the group was using to brainstorm, I refused to turn down any veteran who needed my help.
Since yesterday morning, I’d assisted eight vets with logging in to their online accounts and resetting passwords.
I helped four of them request their medical records, and filled out forms to enroll another five in VA healthcare.
And this hardly scratched the surface of what they needed help with.
I could spend my entire vacation parked at the Legion Hall with my laptop and still not accomplish everything they needed.
In hindsight, however, I wish I’d picked the library or a café with Wi-Fi to meet them. Somewhere away from Luke Mason wielding power tools and that grumpy scowl.
“This is such a beautiful dress,” Alyssa said, sighing. “Or . . . was.”
“Nope. No pity, remember?”
She nodded, patting the satin as if to flatten it. But it was no use. The dress would never function properly again.
“Did I mention Monster-in-Law offered me five hundred dollars to try it on for five minutes?” I said, dropping into the sitting chair.
“She sounds like an absolute peach.” Alyssa ran her fingers over the beading, or what was left of it anyway. “How did you not toss her body into the bottom of a lake after that?”
“It was tempting, but I couldn’t leave Ellie motherless while I served a life sentence.”
I leaned forward, hugging my pup around the neck. She licked my cheek once.
“What are you going to do with it now?” Alyssa asked.
“I don’t know.” I let out a heavy, defeated sigh, because this really was the million-dollar question.
“I picked this dress out with my mom and sister.” I stared at the gown, envisioning the way it once looked, before that awful woman got ahold of it.
“When I decided to move across the country to live with Jason, I made a detour to Lansing on the way. Mostly, I wanted them to be part of helping me pick out the dress without having to ask them to fly across the country twice. I hadn’t met Luanne yet, so I didn’t invite her. Apparently, she took that as a slight.”
“It can’t be repaired?”
“I took it to three of the best seamstresses in Seattle, and all of them said it was too far gone.”
“Did you get any of that in writing?”
“I might have an email from one of them. Why?”
Alyssa’s phone rang before she could answer. “Sorry, got to take this. It’s my grandma.”
She stepped into the other room, leaving me alone with the tattered gown and my rampant thoughts.
Ellie crawled into my lap, and I hugged her tight.
This dress was supposed to be part of my epic love story. One for the books we’d someday tell the grandkids.
Now, it was nothing more than a pile of battered silk and tulle, much like the dreams I once had.
“Hey, I’m sorry to bail, but I need to head to the museum.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, Gram’s just overwhelmed. Golden Days stuff.”
She offered me a smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. I hated that my immediate suspicion was that she was lying. I could handle keeping secrets, considering how briefly we’d known each other, but until now, I felt certain neither one of us had outright lied to the other.
Ellie crawled out of my lap and hurried out the door, returning quickly with a sock.
“What’s this?” Alyssa asked, accepting the gift.
“It’s an Ellie thing,” I said, omitting the part where my dog offered socks to those she felt were under some type of distress. I didn’t want to tip Alyssa off that I was on to her lie. “You have to keep it, or you’ll hurt her feelings.”
“You won’t miss it?”
“She has her own stash.”
“That’s adorable.” Alyssa gave her a few scratches behind the ears. “Hey, I might have to postpone that hike. Maybe sometime next week?”
“Sure,” I said, feeling the last shred of hope that I’d finally made a real female friend fade away. Oh, well.
With a promise to text me when things calmed down at the museum, Alyssa showed herself out. Just as well, because I didn’t have the motivation to leave the chair, much less the bedroom.
I stared blankly at the dress for what might’ve been either a few minutes or a few hours, and the memory replayed in vivid detail.
I’d come home early from work on a Tuesday to pick up my dress for my final fitting. In hindsight, I should’ve just asked my seamstress to hold on to it. But having my dress close brought me comfort during an otherwise stressful time.
I hadn’t mentioned the appointment to Luanne or Jason, because I didn’t want to take Monster-in-Law with me. Selfishly, I didn’t want her to see the dress until my wedding day. She’d taken over every other aspect of the special day. I wanted one thing to be all mine.
But when I got home to pick up my dress, I found Jason standing guard outside our bedroom door.
He tried to block me, but I charged ahead like a battering ram.
He didn’t stand a chance and dove out of the way—coward.
I discovered Luanne in our bedroom, desperately trying to pull the dress off.
Later, she tried to convince me that’s how it ended up damaged.
She panicked and tried to get out of it too quickly.
Little did she know, I had the whole thing on video.
The amount of damage didn’t match her story. Not even close. There were long snags, pulled threads, and even small puncture holes in the satin, as though someone repeatedly yanked at the seams. Entire strands of beads were missing, and others were outright crushed.
Finally mustering the strength to stand, I ran my hand over the fabric, mourning the breathtaking gown it once was.
“What if . . .”
Ellie trotted to my side, sitting close enough to my leg to lean against it.
“What if I just tried it on?”
Ellie licked my hand, nudging her head into my palm.
“Just one more time, before I have to throw it away.”
I had to get rid of it before I left Bluebell Springs. The pictures had been horrid enough. I refused to let Mom or Violet see the devastation in person.
I pulled off my hoodie and jeans, tossing them into the sitting chair.
My dog dropped to the floor, groaning dramatically.
When all my layers aside from a pair of coral panties were shed, I moved around the bed to lift the dress by its corset.
Or, what remained of it. Even before I stepped into the garment, I noticed the warped boning.
Because it wasn’t enough that the fabric was slaughtered.
Luanne had to change the actual shape of the dress too.
I tugged it up slowly, wincing every time one of the snags caught.
Oddly enough, the one part of the dress left intact was the zipper.
I had to suck in my stomach and hold my breath, but I managed to pull it all the way to the top, just below my shoulder blades.
I’d picked this A-line gown specifically so I could show off my lone tattoo—another reason I didn’t want Luanne to see it until it was too late to protest.
I moved to the full-length mirror beside the closet and instantly started to bawl.
It was beyond hideous.
“I look like the bride of Frankenstein,” I sobbed, dropping to the floor.
Ellie rushed over, crawling into my lap and pressing her body against my chest. She tucked her head in the crook of my neck, and I held her tight, crying uncontrollably. When I started to hyperventilate, she licked my cheek several times.
I focused on breathing slower, except . . . there was no air getting in.
“Shit. I can’t—I can’t breathe.” The fucking dress was suffocating me. I reached behind my back, yanking at the zipper. But it was stuck. Of course it was. “Ellie. Scissors. Knife. Sharp,” I pleaded, quite certain my dog didn’t know the command for such things.
I tried to leave the room, but the hoop skirt caught on the doorframe. I didn’t have the strength to shove myself through it. Ellie sprinted out of the room just as my vision faded to gray.
If I die in this damn dress, I’m haunting Luanne and her pathetic son.
If I survived, I vowed to never put on another wedding dress again.