The Less Than Perfect Wedding (10 page)

"Hi," I greeted her back, holding out my hand. "I'm Danielle - I have a wedding dress appointment in a few minutes?"

The woman gave me another sigh, not even glancing down at my outstretched hand. After nearly fifteen seconds of her simply staring at me, she finally turned away, pulling out a large, rather disorganized looking appointment book from behind the counter, below the cash register. She flipped a couple pages, glanced up at me, back down at the book, and then finally closed the book and pushed it aside. "Yes, everything seems to be in order," she commented, still sounding rather grumpy.

I exchanged looks with Claire, her rolling her eyes at me. "There are a few more people still on their way," I spoke up, when the woman didn't seem to be making any sort of further move to help us. "Can you check back in five minutes?"

The woman looked at me, and then turned on her heel and headed off towards the back without commenting. "Wait!" Claire shouted out. "We didn't get your name!"

The saleswoman called out something over her shoulder that I didn't catch, and then turned around the corner and vanished. Claire turned back to me. "Did you hear her? Did she say Shacklett?"

"I thought she said Shattle," I confessed. "I couldn't hear that well."

"It sounded like Shuckle to me," Sally offered.

Claire sank into one of the plush armchairs in the front of the shop, rubbing her forehead with one hand. "Whatever. When your mom and sister get here, we'll just knock things over until she shows up again to yell at us."

The three of us sat and waited for ten more minutes until my mother finally made her way into the store. Still gazing out the window, I spotted my younger sister as well, also emerging from the car and loitering for a minute in the parking lot before entering. "This place is so out of the way," my mother complained, her mouth opening as soon as she entered and saw that I was sitting inside. "Why we couldn't pick a place that's closer to our house, I really don't know."

"Because this place has the best suggestion," Claire immediately retorted. She and my mother exchanged glares, their eyes shooting daggers, and I knew right then that this would not be enjoyable.

Fortunately, my mother was the first one to back down. "Well, your sister's on her way," she finally said, plopping down on another of the chairs at the front of the room and crossing her arms. "She'll be inside in just a minute."

As my sister was finally done with whatever she was doing in the parking lot and heading towards the front door, I saw a long, massive sedan pull into the parking lot - Judy was here! Bustling out of her car with her ever-present big fur coat hanging lightly off her shoulders, Judy arrived at the front door with just enough time to hold it open for my sister to enter, and then followed her inside.

I couldn't help but observe the wildly different manners by which the two women greeted me. Susan gave me a brief moment of eye contact before sweeping her gaze around the shop, taking note of who was here, and then settled down sullenly into one of the chairs. She clearly looked as though my mother had been the driving force behind her presence here. Judy, on the other hand, immediately swept me up into a bear hug, crushing my face into the fur of her coat.

"Oh, Danielle, I'm so happy for you!" Judy espoused loudly into my ear as she squeezed me. "This will be so much fun!"

"Thank you," I wheezed, finally managing to fight my way free. "I'm happy that you could make it, Judy."

After releasing me, Judy turned and gazed around at the other members of my bridal party, still wearing her wide grin. "So, let's get this started!" she cheered. "Where's the sales lady? Let's get this party going!"

Claire and Sally glanced towards the back room, where the employee had been last spotted. "Shacklett!" Claire yelled out.

We waited, but no one appeared around the corner. "Shattle!" I tried next.

Still nothing. We both turned towards Sally, who stood up from her chair, set the binder down on the seat behind her with great care, and then took a couple apprehensive steps towards the back of the shop. "Shuckle?" she called, her voice wavering slightly.

An instant after Sally's call, the woman finally popped around the corner, her mouth still twisted down into a puckered frown as she surveyed us. "We're all here," I spoke up. "Can we see some of the dresses?"

For a moment, I could have sworn that the tall, gaunt woman (Shuckle, I supposed?) was considering turning me down, kicking all of us out of the shop so she wouldn't have to deal with the inconvenience of selling her merchandise. But after a long sigh, she waved me back, and I headed towards the back of the shop to pick out some gowns to try on.

*

I had never been one of those girls that spent their childhood poring over wedding magazines, trying to pick out the perfect outfit, the perfect flowers, the perfect location, the perfect dress. This didn't mean, however, that I didn't have a pretty decent of the sort of dress that I was after. I wanted something simple, elegant, obviously white, and I was going for a sheath style. As a child, I had stumbled upon a picture of a Victorian ball, all the women in poufy outfits, and had instantly decided that I was never going to wear anything that ridiculous.

A bit of online searching had revealed a dizzying array of different styles and price ranges for wedding gowns. My mouth fell open in horror when I realized that some of the "pretty dresses" I had found after following a labyrinth of links cost more than my car! There was no way I was going to spend that much on a stupid white dress that I'd only wear a single night of my life. I was going to find something comfortable that didn't make me look too bad, something that I could move around in without falling flat on my face, and something that wouldn't require my first-born in payment.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem that finding that perfect dress would be as easy as I had hoped. Heading towards the fitting areas in the back of the shop, we passed by rack after rack of pristine white dresses. I could discern no sort of pattern in their distribution, at least from the ones turned at the ends of the racks to be visible to me. I supposed that we would have to rely on the uncertain help from Shuckle, who had scurried off ahead of us, quickly disappearing into the wedding-themed jungle.

We eventually arrived at a back area, after pushing through the myriad of dresses, and found several couches laid out around a slatted door, probably leading to a changing area. Judy immediately flopped down on one of the couches with a sigh of relief. "Lordy, this shop is bigger than I expected!" she exclaimed as she sank into the couch cushions.

Susan sighed but took a seat on the couch as well, making it obvious that she was picking the furthest seat from the dressing room. If she wasn't going to be the center of attention, she clearly didn't want to be in the group at all. Claire plopped down front and center, giving me an encouraging smile, and my mother settled into a nearby armchair. Sally was still doing her best to not get too close to my mother, perhaps fearing a spontaneous bout of yelling, and she eventually settled in on the same couch as Claire and Judy, her big wedding book still clutched to her chest.

Once again, there was no sign of Shuckle. I started to turn around and look for her, my mouth opening, but before I even had the chance to speak, she came popping out from between two aisles, springing up like a Jack-in-the-box. I had no idea how she was able to move so quietly. "And what would we like to see?" she asked, staring hard directly into my eyes.

I tried to look past her piercing stare. "I was thinking about something simple, maybe a sheath style?" I asked, remembering the words from my internet searches. I remembered how the full, gigantic, awkward dresses were typically labeled as ball gowns. There had also been a category called "mermaid" or "trumpet," where the dress flared out for the hips and then came in tighter at the knees, but I couldn't imagine managing to stay on my feet in anything like that. I'd look like a lamp, and go toppling over like one as soon as I tried to take a step!

"Lace?" the woman retorted. It took me a minute to realize that it was supposed to be a question.

"Um, not too much," I replied. Her eyes were still staring at me, as if she was attempting to break into my thoughts by force, presumably to read telepathically what dress I really wanted. "Again, something simple."

"Straps?"

I shrugged; I really didn't have a preference. It was really just a dress! I again found myself thinking. Can't I just try on a few, find one that I liked, and then buy it?

Out of nowhere, Shuckle materialized a flexible measuring tape, which she wrapped around my various body parts without even a word of warning. I'll admit that I definitely tensed up when she lunged forward towards me without a warning, but instead of wrapping the flexible tape around my neck, she simply pulled it around my bust, waist, and hips. After mentally noting the measurements, she clicked her tongue at me, and then disappeared off into the wilderness of dresses around us.

I turned to Claire, opening my mouth to make some comment about the sales woman's weirdness, but she was back before I could even speak. This time, the flutter of the dresses she bore under her arms betrayed her, and I managed to turn back around to meet her before she was at my shoulder unseen. She thrust the dresses in her hands out, into mine.

"Try these," she ordered, pointing towards the dressing room. Without much choice and feeling cowed by the commands, I nodded, and stepped in through the slatted door.

The dressing room was at least pleasantly roomy, with several hooks to hold the other dresses and my street clothes. The other three walls all sported mirrors, giving me a trio of views of myself. Through the slats of the door, I could still hear everything that was going on outside as clear as if I was standing in the middle of the couches and armchairs.

"Aren't there supposed to be drinks and things at this?" That was my sister's voice complaining. "Shouldn't we all be having champagne and cheering every time she comes out or something?"

"Danielle didn't want this to be a big thing," replied Sally, kindly attempting to cover for me. Honestly, I hadn't even thought about it. I'd assumed that there would be champagne or something on hand, maybe a cash bar over in the corner of the boutique. My assumptions had clearly been wildly inaccurate. Sex in the City lied to me! I thought briefly before I turned my attention back to squeezing into the first of the dresses that had been shoved into my arms.

"Whatever." My sister again. "At least I came prepared. I'll be back."

I could hear a set of retreating footsteps as I wiggled my arms through the straps and attempted to reach behind me to somehow zip up the of the first dress. I wasn't too hurt by her leaving. I had done the proper thing and had invited her; what Suzy chose to do after that was totally up to her. Finally managing to get the dress at least covering all the important bits, I turned and stepped out of the dressing room.

As soon as she laid eyes on me, Judy burst out in clapping. "Oh, you look amazing! So beautiful!" she enthused, gushing with pleasure.

Claire and Sally were both nodding, but just as I had predicted, there was a frown glued to my mother's face. "I don't know," she said, in that wheedling little tone of voice that she used for needling insults. "It just makes you look a little . . . Hippy, doesn't it?" Her hands dropped down to her own, considerably wider, hips to emphasize what she meant.

I glanced down at myself. I wasn't quite sure what my mother was talking about. Sure, the dress showed off my hips, but wasn't that the point? Having a narrow waist and a nearly hourglass figure was one of the few things I was actually quite proud to be able to show off. Perhaps this was intended to make me feel bad about myself, but if so, it had missed the mark.

Just as I turned to head back into the little dressing booth, Susan came running back up, a bottle clutched in each hand. She glanced at me, her eyes sweeping over my new outfit in white, and then returned her attention back down to what she had brought to the party. "I got drinks!" she announced.

I just sighed and kept on heading back into the booth, the dress forcing me to take small steps to avoid possibly causing any tears in the fabric. Judy, however, clearly hadn't yet figured out our family dynamic. "Susan, what do you think of this dress?" she trilled to my younger sister. "Isn't it lovely?"

Susan took another quick glance at me, shrugged, and went back to pulling the seal off of one of the bottles. "Yeah, looks like a wedding dress," she gave in. She reminded me of the kid at the back of the high school class, the one that everyone knew was destined to drop out before the end of the year, when called upon by the teacher. She had to say something, but she'd do her best to get away with the bare minimum. And no matter how much we pushed at her, Susan wouldn't say anything much better.

Still, Shuckle kept on disappearing and returning with more handfuls of white cloth and lace, and so I began the longest day of clothes shopping I have ever experienced. I remembered back when I was shopping for a prom dress in high school, doing my best to find something that toed the line between "making all those boys jealous of my 'womanly gifts' on display" and "oh my god, Becky, she's totally being a slut". I had thought that finding that perfect dress was hard. But that was a cakewalk compared to this.

*