When she emerges in the black dress, the transformation is striking. Not just in the way the dress fits her, though that certainly commands attention, but in how she carries herself, like she’s reclaimed her armor.
“Much better,” she says softly, more to herself than me as she eyes herself in the mirror.
I maintain my position against the counter, watching as she gathers her composure along with her things. “The black dress was always the right choice.” Because it washerchoice.
Her eyes meet mine, gratitude softening them, and fuck if I wouldn’t trade anything for another look like that.
She smooths her hands down her dress. “Thank you. For everything.” A smile threatens. “Though you really didn’t need to buy me multiple brands of tampons and pads.” Now, she allows the smile to settle in place. “It tells me you’ll be great when Luna’s older and needs her father’s help surviving period hell.”
“I seriously doubt that shopping for supplies for you is enough training for a teenage daughter’s period hell.”
She rolls her eyes but there’s amusement there too. “Only you would use the word ‘training’ when it comes to raising children.”
We’re interrupted when the bathroom door is pushed in and two wedding guests enter, sisters who are friends of my parents, both in their sixties.
The older sister comes to a halt as she assesses Amelia and me. Then, with an arrowed, brow, she greets me, judgement threading its way through every letter of my name.
She thinks I’ve fucked Amelia in here.
It’s a fair assessment based on some of the shit I got up to in my early twenties that became gossip fodder in Manhattan. A Black son not following in his father’s or older brothers’respectable footsteps was a hot talking point that my parents were never happy about, but not one I ever cared to change. Watching buttoned-up socialites cast disapproving looks my way always amused me. Particularly since I knew what some of the husbands in New York were getting up to behind their wives’ backs.
However, the way Amelia straightens lets me know she’s not finding this as amusing as I am, so I take charge of the situation to put things right.
“Deborah.” I push off the counter and move toward her. “This isn’t what it looks like. Amelia had a dress malfunction and required my help.”
Her expression tells me she’s not buying a word of what I said. “I can imagine.”
“I can see you don’t believe me, but?—”
“I got my period,” Amelia blurts. “And it . . . well, my dress was ruined.” She holds the garment bag up. “Gage came to my rescue and brought me a new dress.”
Compassion immediately fills Deborah’s face. “Oh, dear, we’ve all been there.” She shakes her head. “Periods were the bane of my existence, and as I got older, they only got worse. Actually, they were horrendous, often flooding my underwear and staining my outfits.”
“Right,” I say, glancing at Amelia. “I’ll leave you to it.”
Her eyes crinkle with enjoyment. “What? You don’t want to stay and further your period training?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her I’d happily further my period training if it was just the two of us here, but I don’t want to utter those words in front of one of the biggest gossips in this city. “I’ve got years before I’ll need that training.”
The last thing I see before I leave the bathroom is a smile gracing Amelia’s face. It’s warm and genuine, and it leavesme wondering just how many layers she’s hiding behind that carefully constructed facade.
3
Gage
I return to the family table after leaving Amelia and making sure Luna and Sarah are still safe on the dance floor. Ethan, my youngest brother who just got married, sits next to his wife who’s five months pregnant, his hand resting possessively on her thigh while she talks excitedly with our mother about their upcoming honeymoon.
I take the seat next to him and lean in to say quietly, “Mom hates that you guys are going away for a month. I think she had plans to help Madeline decorate the nursery.”
Ethan turns to me, grinning. “I’ve no doubt she’ll let herself into our condo and decorate without Maddie.”
“You gave her a key?”
He shakes his head. “Fuck no. Mywifegave her a key.”
Our brother, Hayden, overhears. “From what I’ve heard, they’re besties now.”
“That’s pretty accurate,” Ethan agrees.