Page 4 of The Ties that Bind
“I know, I know,” Maggie placated me. “Oh, there’s my mom!” She pulled into a spot next to a smiling, waving woman. Mrs. Delphine looked so similar to her daughter. They shared long, wavy, dark hair, blue Creole eyes, and a smile that crinkled their eyes and cheeks. Only their skin tone was a little different; in Maggie’s mother, you could see a hint of Maggie’s grandma. “Is Grandma not coming, Momma?” Maggie embraced her mother.
“She says she’s too old for long drives and she wants to save her old bones for your wedding,” Mrs. Delphine laughed. “Really, she’s just on the last couple chapters of a book and couldn’t tear herself away.”
“That’s fine. Grandma has a dress for every occasion,” Maggie laughed.
“Exactly.”
Maggie isn’t the only one who’s nervous,I realized as I watched the mother and daughter. This had to be a little stressful for them both, just because of the closeness of the wedding date. Most brides liked to shop for a dress several months in advance and get one made for them personally - a one-of-a-kind dress that would transform them into the vision of the bride they had always dreamed they would be. Maggie wouldn’t have time to order one specially made for her, so she would have to find one that she loved as-is and upon which the bridal salon could perform minor alterations.
I knew we would find the right dress, though. Maybe not at this specific salon, but that was just fine - I had another two lined up. Somewhere, somehow, we would find the right gown.
We walked in, signed in at the front desk and were immediately asked to go ahead and follow a saleswoman who introduced herself as Janet, even though we were about ten minutes early. She shook all of our hands and smiled through the introductions, appearing genuinely excited for the whole group.
“Have you been dress shopping before, Maggie?” she asked the bride-to-be.
“No, actually,” Maggie told her.
“That’s perfect! I absolutely love so many of the designer dresses we have here, and I can’t wait to tell you all about them. I already have a few in mind for you to try on.”
The saleswoman could clearly tell that Maggie was nervous, because she kept up a conversation mostly with herself, talking about bodices and skirts and exuding confidence in her job and the prospect of finding Maggie a dress. She knew how soon Maggie needed the gown and quickly took charge in the spacious, comfortable dressing room. “I could go on about gowns all day, but I think we should just cut right to the chase and try one on. Let me take a few quick measurements and we’ll get started!”
Abigail and I chatted with Maggie’s mother while Janet gradually drew Maggie into the conversation, asking questions about the groom and wedding. Then, it was time for Maggie to try on her first dress. Janet brought it in, and we all had to stifle gasps. Suddenly, imagining Maggie wearing this beautiful designer gown made the wedding feel so much closer.
Maggie changed inside a smaller, curtained dressing area in one corner, and when she stepped out…
“You look incredible,” I breathed, breaking the silence before Maggie could look any more like she might bolt back into the safety of the curtains. It was so odd, the usually bold and direct Maggie nervous about something as simple as trying on a dress, but now I realized that she was only nervous because of how much this day meant to her. She was getting married! Of course, she would feel nervous.
“Really?” Maggie asked, regaining a little of her confidence as Abigail and Mrs. Delphine both nodded and offered their own opinions about the dress.
Janet stepped forward and adjusted the sleeves and bodice a little, then gave a nod of agreement. “I have to say, I expected this one to look fantastic on you which is why I wanted you to try it on first, but it compliments your body type even better than I hoped! How does it feel? Do you like the style?”
“Actually, I love the style.” Maggie gave a little swirl of her skirt, watching it sway in the two large mirrors in the corner. “And it feels…good. Amazing. ”
“The skirt is just a hint too long. It would need to be taken up a little. And I know when you made your appointment, you said you would prefer to have shoulder straps, and these sit a little wider for a wider neckline. How do you feel about that?”
“I…like it, actually. I was afraid the dress might not feel like it would stay up, but it does and I feel supported,” Maggie decided.
“I like to say that you should wear the dress, and the dress should wear you.” Janet smiled. “Okay. How about we start two racks, the ‘maybe’ rack and the ‘um, no’ rack, and try to put a couple dresses on each one?”
“Sounds perfect!” There it was, that enthusiasm and unquenchable happiness that I’d gotten used to hearing from Maggie since she had become reunited with Marty. She had been out of her element, but now she had tried on something and had an idea of what she wanted - a place to start, something to go off of.
Abigail, Mrs. Delphine, and I sat and watched as Maggie modeled dress after dress. Each time she asked us for our opinions, we each gave a quick opinion based on what we knew about Maggie and her style and our own thoughts, but mostly, we let Maggie form her own ideas and consult Janet, who dealt with brides all the time and clearly knew what she was talking about.
Then, Maggie decided that was enough - she had tried on a lot of dresses she liked, as she told us and Janet, and she wanted to let us start picking out our dresses while she did some thinking.
So, it was our turn to be doted on and regaled with flattering compliments, matter-of-fact comments, and ideas for the perfect bridesmaid dresses. More than once, Janet commented on how beautiful Abigail’s hair and my hair both were - bright red and shining black - and also how she loved the challenge of finding a single dress that would compliment both of us at once.
Since we already had colors and themes for the wedding, Janet wasted no time in leafing through a notebook of photos featuring all the hues the dresses came in that would compliment us both. Soon, we had a few on the “maybe” and “uh, no” racks along with Maggie’s potential wedding gowns. Even Maggie’s mom, who turned out to be quite particular, found a couple of dresses she thought would suit the mother of the bride.
Then, it was time for decisions. We could decide on dresses for all of us, dresses for some of us or no dresses at all, in which case we would head to the next bridal salon tomorrow and give their selection a try.
I had been sneaking glances at Maggie while we tried on all the gowns. She had spent whole minutes lingering on each dress, no doubt imagining herself walking down the aisle in each of them. But there was one that I had caught her staring at more than any of the others.
“Do brides usually pick the first dress they try on?” Maggie asked Janet as she touched the soft material of that very dress.
“Actually, they often do,” she said encouragingly. “I picked that one out for you to try based on your style preference, body type, wedding plans and everything else you told me or provided through the appointment booking. This dress was the one I thought would be the best fit for you out of all the gowns we have in stock. All the others are ones I thought you would love too, but this was the very first one I picked.”
“Then…I love it. I think I want it.”
