Читать книгу You’ll Find Me in Manhattan - Jill Knapp - Страница 9

Four months later

“I don’t know how I feel about this one,” I smoothed the silky bodice with my right hand, while trying to wrap the alarmingly long crystallized train in my left. “It’s a bit too much dress for me.”

The room was cold and I shivered while standing in the gown. Although it was only the end of May, the manager of this establishment had the air-conditioning on the highest possible setting. Which made it pretty darn uncomfortable to stand in a sleeveless dress. If only to make this afternoon with my mother more pleasant.

As soon as I caught Amalia’s eye, she grimaced. I could tell from that one look that she completely agreed. The train had to be somewhere near four feet long. Too long even to just take pictures in! I didn’t even want to check the price tag. Then my eyes fell on to my mother, who was already making her way over to me.

“Well, darling, it is your wedding day,” she spoke in a stern voice through a tight, fake smile. She tucked a piece of her short brown hair behind her ear and looked me square in the eyes. “When else will you get to dress up like a princess?” She crossed her arms in front of her, challenging me. I had no idea why she cared so much.

I lowered my eyebrows and shook my head. I didn’t really feel like that was entirely the point of finding the right wedding dress. I was standing on a small podium in front of a giant mirror with two supporting mirrors on each side, allowing me to see this giant, glitter-covered cupcake from every angle. I hadn’t even booked the venue for my nuptials yet, but my mother had insisted that we grab the first appointment we could get at Wedding Atelier on Madison Avenue. Apparently, the average bridal gown called for three alterations, taking anywhere from three weeks to three months in between visits. I made a mental note to really watch my weight during this next year. You can always take the dress in, but you certainly can’t add more material.

I still couldn’t believe I would be getting married and graduating from my Master’s program in the same year. A smile tugged on my mouth as I remembered Alex’s perfect proposal to me on New Year’s Eve. But just as quick as it brushed my lips, the smile faded and the anxiety of school nestled its way back into my chest. I was hoping that working with Dr. Greenfield would help prepare me for what I was going to do after graduation. Or at the very least, guarantee one letter of recommendation. I had narrowed down the application process to three Ph.D. programs, all in New York. I tried to talk to my mom about how overwhelmed I felt, but instead of lending an ear, she convinced me to get the wedding planning out of the way so I could focus on school when it was all sorted out. I could tell she was much more interested in my wedding than my career path. She finally gave me enough anxiety on the matter that I caved and reluctantly agreed to let her come with me. I played the “maid of honor card,” asking Amalia to come along as a buffer.

“I understand it’s my wedding day,” I emphasized the word my. “I just don’t think this is the right dress for me. I want something a little less,” I paused, searching for the right word. “Overwhelming.”

I looked to Amalia for help, and with the smallest nod I knew she completely understood what I was talking about. She walked over to the sales associate that had been helping us and whispered something in her ear. I wondered if she was trying to come up with a plan to have my mother kicked out of the store.

My mother let out an exaggerated sigh and downed the rest of her complimentary champagne. She then turned to a different sales associate and gently shook her empty champagne flute, indicating that she’d like a top-off. I shook my head and wished my dad could be here instead of her, but she had insisted this was a “woman thing,” and wouldn’t have it any other way.

A beat later, Amalia and a dark-haired sales associate came strutting over to us holding a rack of more suitable and demure wedding gowns. I felt a smile tug on the side of my lips, while my mother’s morphed into a purse.

“That one,” Amalia pointed to lace-covered gown and the sales associate quickly held it up and smiled, patiently waiting for my approval. I eyed the gown. It was nothing short of magnificent. There were slim, tank-like sleeves that were completely made of Chantilly lace, the neckline fell into a sweetheart style, but not too plunging. The rest of the gown was silk with an overlay tastefully covered in the same lace as the sleeves, and the train was even a manageable length.

“May I see the back of the dress?” I took a step off the podium and walked closer to the gown.

The back of the dress was low-cut. Stylish with a hint of sexy. I wouldn’t be able to wear a bra with the gown, but most brides had one sewn in anyway. From the waist down to the beginning of the train were about thirty satin-covered buttons. I put my hand on my chest, unable to speak for a moment. I felt a small stream of tears flow into my eyes as I imagined marrying Alex in that dress, and didn’t even try to stop them from coming out. I hadn’t put on any make-up out of fear that I’d somehow manage to smudge some on the dresses and owe fifteen thousand dollars in gowns.

“I’d like to try that on,” I whispered through a sniff, feeling a slight rush of excitement. Amalia winked and smiled back. “Can you come into the dressing room with me and help me with the buttons?”

Amalia touched her fingertip to her lips, pretending to contemplate this task. “I do believe that is a job for the maid of honor,” she pretended to brush some dust off her shoulders and laughed.

The red-headed sales associate with the champagne bottle came back to fill up my mother’s glass. She slowly sat back down on the plush couch and crossed her legs. “I’m not sure how that will look, but by all means try it on. We haven’t anything better to do today.” She checked her Movado watch and then looked back up at me.

I pressed my mouth into a tight-lipped smile, growing more impatient with her callousness. “Oh, if I’m keeping you, Mother, please don’t feel obligated to stay.” Before I could gauge her reaction, Amalia grabbed the long train of the sparkle disaster I was still wearing and motioned for me to follow her into the dressing room.

Once we were alone, I let out a small grunt. This was supposed to be a wonderful moment, and my mother was nearly ruining it.

“You’re mom’s kind of a handful,” Amalia muttered with wide eyes. Her phone buzzed in her jean pocket, but she ignored it.

“Do you need to get that?” I answered as she helped me out of the first dress. I took a step back and admired the perfect gown I was about to try on and allowed myself to do a little dance in my bra and underwear.

Amalia laughed. “Nice moves. But you should save it for your honeymoon. And, no, I don’t need to get it, it’s probably Michael. He knows I’m with you, maid-of-honor duties and all. I’m having dinner with him later.”

“So this is really happening, then?” I asked as I held my arms over my head so she could help me into the dress. “You and Michael are officially dating?”

Amalia stood on the tiny stool in the dressing room and helped pull the gown over my head, after which she motioned for me to turn around so she could get started on the exuberant amount of buttons.

“Leave it the girl in the wedding gown to ask me if Michael and I were really happening!” she rolled her eyes. “I think your wedding is a much bigger deal than me and Michael going out to dinner.”

“It’s a big deal!” I teased. “While I may be getting married at the age of twenty-five, I still find the idea of you and Michael having a genuine relationship more shocking.”

“Well, don’t die of shock just yet,” she started. “We were taking things very slowly the past few months. Only seeing each other once a week, if that. Now we are up to twice a week, so it’s a bit of an improvement. We didn’t want to dive right into anything, especially after the heartbreak I put Hayden through.”

I nodded, holding the top of the dress up in my hands as she continued to button. “You mean, after you literally ran away from him?”

“Yeah, I’d prefer not to relive that brief act of insanity,” she looked down at the floor for a moment, her eyes threatening to tear. I wondered if any part of her still had feelings for Hayden. Or if she possibly loved him and just couldn’t admit it to herself. I put a hand on her shoulder and she shook her head while offering me a small laugh. She smoothed out her black, cable-knit sweater and held her head up higher. “Anyway, won’t you be twenty-six by the time you tie the knot? That’s not too young. Plenty of people get married when they’re even younger than that. Just not here in New York.”

“I guess not,” I shrugged. “I wonder what it’s like out there in the real world.” I tried to imagine getting married in my home town in Rhode Island, and how different it would be. I would most likely be having an outdoor wedding, not in a five-star hotel.

“You mean outside of New York?” she raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” I played with my hair, twisting it around in my fingers. “I’ll bet it’s so much easier.”

“What’s easier?” she chuckled while cocking her head to the side.

“Everything,” I mumbled. I let go of my hair and let out a sigh. “It’s too bad I love living here too much to ever find out. I wouldn’t even consider applying for doctoral programs outside of a thirty-mile radius.”

Amalia nodded and then diverted her eyes to the ceiling. She offered me a small smile. I could tell she wanted me to be happier. I was standing in a bridal boutique surrounded by champagne and wedding gowns. But my mother’s presence weighed on me too much to truly enjoy the moment.

“But back to Michael,” she began with a heavy breath. “More than enough time has passed and he and I are ready to give this a real shot. Which means our first nice dinner together tonight at Café Grazie,” I could hear the smile in her voice without even turning around. “Now I just have to figure out what to wear.”

The more I thought about the idea of her and Michael dating, the more I disliked it. I knew I had to be a good friend and keep my mouth shut. Especially if I wanted her to continue helping me with my wedding-planning. Coyly, I kept the conversation about him going to hide my disdain.

“Oh, well maybe we can find you something here! I’m envisioning something in the magenta family,” I shot her a look.

“That’s a great idea!” she answered, with mock enthusiasm. “But no tacky bridesmaid dress. I’m going to go all-out! When he shows up, I’ll just open the door to my apartment in a wedding gown.” She cleared her throat and then starting talking in a robotic voice. “Michael, marry me. Beep.”

“And then I will officially know two people who have literally run away from their significant other,” I shook my head.

“Three if you count yourself, Miss NYU alumni mixer.”

“Wow, you’re right,” I twisted my neck around to look at her. “What’s wrong with us?”

“Living in New York City has ensorcelled us into becoming detached automatons all the while sundering us from the life we used to live. In short, we no longer act like normal people,” she uttered flatly.

“Amen to that.” I could feel Amalia on my back, struggling with each button. I made a mental note to leave a lot of extra time to put on this dress on the day of the wedding. She was taking forever and I was getting anxious. There were no mirrors in the dressing room, so I had no idea how I looked until I was able to step outside.

“Finished!” Amalia announced. “Turn around. Let me get a look at you.”

I slowly turned around and let out a sound that sounded somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. “So?” I smoothed the dress down over my legs, “How does it look?”

“Immaculate,” she said softly. “Alex is going to love it.” She pulled me in for a hug and whispered in my ear, “Olivia, listen to me. Don’t let your mother ruin this for you. You only get to do this once. If you’re lucky, at least.” She backed away, still holding onto my shoulders, and smiled warmly.

I felt tears threaten to pour out behind my eyes. She really was a great friend and here I was bashing the guy she liked, in my mind.

“Okay, missy. Now let’s get out there so you can see how incredible you look.”

The gown’s train was short enough that I didn’t need her to hold it behind me. I made my way out of the dressing room and walked into the main room with the podium. I carefully slid on the two-inch heels I had brought with me, to get an idea of how the dress would look with my wedding shoes on, and the nice brunette sales associate, whose name-tag read Jenna, offered me a veil. It was elegant with just a touch of lace. No glitter of any kind. I bent down so she could fasten it to my hair.

I took a deep breath and finally turned around to face the mirrors. I hardly recognized myself as I brought my hands to cover my mouth. The whiteness of the sheer veil created a deep contrast with my brown hair. The dress fit like a dream. Apart from the length, it would hardly need any alteration at all. My eyes welled with tears and I allowed myself to envision walking down the aisle, holding a bouquet of deep- pink peonies, my father on my arm, as I slowly made my way to Alex, who always looked amazing.

I gently held onto the bottom of my dress and turned to face my mother, who was looking at me disapprovingly. I braced myself for what she was about to say. “What do you think, Mom?” I asked in a small voice.

She stood up and took a step back, taking the dress in. “Honestly? I think it’s a bit bland, Olivia.” My mother grimaced, her green eyes glazing over in a look that resembled sheer boredom.

“I happen to think that it’s lovely,” Amalia shot back at her. I pushed out a heavy breath. Leave it to Amalia to always speak her mind, no matter who was on the receiving end of it. I grinned widely and raised my eyes brows in triumph. Turning back to the mirror I stood up a little straighter, remembering Amalia’s words in the dressing room. This dress was the one, just like Alex was the one. It was settled. This was the gown I was getting.

“Alright, then,” I called over my shoulder to Jenna. “I’ll have this one”

A few moments later, three other sales associates came darting over with small bells and began ringing them. A few of the other patrons in the store began to clap and I couldn’t stop my face from turning at least three different shades of red. Amalia and I were instantly handed flutes of champagne, which we promptly clinked together. I took a small sip, careful not to spill any on the dress.

“To my friend, Olivia,” Amalia cheered loudly. I laughed nervously and she grabbed my hand and pulled it up as I received the applause. To be fair, the associates were probably happier that I was spending two thousand dollars in their store than the fact that I had found the dress of my dreams.

I looked over to my mother one last time. Her attention was currently being held by her cell phone. I felt a pang of sadness. Even with all of the support around me, not having my mother’s approval was painful. I shook my head and took another sip of my champagne, trying to ignore her callousness. She looked up at me one last time, a strange look in her eye.

For a moment there, it felt like pity.

Amalia turned to me and gave me a tight-lipped look that conveyed she had to leave.

“Go!” I laughed. “Have fun on your date with Michael and I’ll see you on Monday.”

Amalia rolled her eyes. “Right, for work-study with Dr. Pain In the Ass.” She scratched her head.

“We have summer in a week,” I offered. “It’s already the last week of May.”

“Don’t you know?” she scrunched her face. “I’m working for him all summer,” she grunted, while synchronously rolling her blue eyes. She always did have a flare for dramatics. “I don’t have much of a choice. I really need the money. Oh well.”

I offered her a small sympathetic smile and she made a beeline for the door. Even through the annoyance of having to work with Dr. Greenfield, her spirits were still high because of Michael. I wanted to be happy for her, but if it was up to me, I would have preferred her to continue seeing Hayden.

I turned and gave my dress a final once-over. It really was gorgeous, just like my fiancé. I couldn’t ask for more. Screw everyone else! I was marrying the love of my life. Now I just needed to set a date.