Page 22 of Desperate Vows

“I’m not sure,” I answered. “It’ll have to be something that requires little to no alterations. I’m getting married a week from Saturday.”

Shanna’s eyebrows hit her hairline. “Wow, that’s fast. All right. Um…” She walked around me. “Size two?”

“Yes.” I wasn’t surprised she knew my size.

“Do you have any idea what style you’re looking for?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“All right then. Follow me. With your size, we’ll have a fair number of dresses to try. The only challenge will be your height.”

Shocker. Not! “Okay.”

Thea, Helen, and I followed Shanna to the back of the store and into a room filled with dresses. Most were white, with a few black, red, and even a purple mixed in.

“Why don’t you three look around while I get a dressing room set up? I’ll be back in a moment.”

I nodded and said, “Thank you.”

Thea walked to one of the racks and began sifting through them. “I must admit I’m surprised you don’t have an idea what kind of dress you want.”

I fought with dresses, trying to look at them. None of them were appealing to me. Too beaded, too heavy, too much. “My mom and I talked about it a couple of times. My father caught us, and…” It was best I didn’t dwell on that. “I didn’t think about it much when I was growing up.” I hoped that would be the end of it and was delighted when they let it go so easily.

“Well, it’s your day, so this choice is yours,” Helen grunted as she pushed an especially full gown to the side. “This thing would swallow you whole.”

“I want something simple. No beads, no heavy satin, or super long train.” I sighed, thinking about one of the times Mom and I talked about my wedding. “I thought I’d get married on the beach. Somewhere warm and tropical. I was going to meet someone, fall madly in love, and be swept off my feet. We’d run away together, and I’d never see Chicago again.”

The room went quiet, and I realized I said all that aloud. My cheeks burned with embarrassment. For six months, I’d watched every word that came out of my mouth to make sure I didn’t say something I shouldn’t.

“I’m sorry.” I looked at Helen and then at Thea. “That was just an old conversation with my mom. Dreams change.”

“It sounded nice,” Thea replied.

I waved her off. “Like I said, a silly conversation from long ago.”

It was quiet for a moment, and we went back to digging through the dresses. Thirty minutes later, I was in the dressing room with five dresses to try on. It was daunting, and none of them really felt like me.

I didn’t spend my time trying to be the opposite of my father on purpose, but we were—opposite. He wanted champagne. I wanted a soda. He wanted baked Alaska. I wanted a cheeseburger. I couldn’t really have the wedding I wanted because his friends and associates would be at the wedding. It had to be as grand and elegant as it could be in the limited time that I had.

Those thoughts were running through my head as I tried on those gowns. None of them worked. None of them. They were either frumpy, too revealing, or just uncomfortable. My hope of finding the one was waning. I parked myself on the little ottoman where I’d draped my clothes and sat down in my bra and panties.

My phone went off, and I grabbed it. It was a text from Lucas. Seriously, have I huffed something without my knowledge? First, Thea showed up and spent the day doing wedding crap, and now a text from Lucas?

Hey

Hi.

What are you doing?

Dress shopping.

Find anything?

I won’t cry. I won’t cry. I won’t cry.

Not yet.

I’m sure whatever you wear will be beautiful.

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