Don't Let Go

by Sheryl Wright

  To swap out the oldest of Georgie’s wardrobe, demote her middle-aged clothing and put all the new items away hadn’t taken as long as Tyler had planned. When they were done, she surveyed the room to be sure it was exactly as Marnie wanted it. It was Stella though, who had maintained Georgie’s living quarters these past five years, so it was her approval that mattered most. “I think that’s everything,” she told her. “Does it pass inspection?”

  Stella snickered, giving Tyler an affectionate shove. “Ah now girl, the top sergeant himself would get down on his knees and weep to have a closet like this! Well done!”

  “I take it that’s a good thing,” she said with a smile, asking the question that had been bothering her since first touring the place. “Does it strike you odd that everything is gray, blue or black? I mean there’s not a lot of color anywhere in her wardrobe. When we were placing the order I kept thinking we should find a couple of striking pieces, something a little brighter. I mean,” she added, a little uncomfortable now that she had mentioned anything, “she’s a very attractive woman, and she dresses well, but a little on the drab side.”

  Unfazed by the comment, Stella pointed to the tall cubbyhole shelves that held Georgie’s shoes and boots. “Tell me what you see.”

  Not wanting to miss whatever she was being shown, she studied the shoe rack for a long time. “Well, they’re all black except for the cross trainers and the Top-Siders.” Stella encouraged her to keep going and she started looking for commonalities. “Okay, let’s see…well first we have these ones. They look military, so I’m going to guess they go with her uniforms…I’m sorry Stella. I know you’re trying to help me connect the dots but I’m not getting it.”

  “Pick up a pair and put your hand inside.”

  That confused her, but she did as directed, selecting a pair of white Top-Siders suitable for use on a sailing yacht. They looked new, like everything else, but in her hand she realized the soles had been worn smooth with steady wear. A little reluctant to stick her hands in her boss’s shoe, she reached in gingerly and was surprised to find an index card folded inside. “I don’t understand. What is this?”

  Stella took it from her, unfolding it. “Back in the day our Georgie was one snappy dresser and you’re right, that girl can wear any color and make it look good. Sadly, those days are gone,” she lamented. “Nowadays, she can’t remember what things go together. Before we got this organized, we couldn’t trust her to figure out what to wear from one day to the next. I swear she used to walk in here and put on the first thing she found. It used to send Lou through the roof! Anyway, now I’ve got it all organized and she’s got her little cheat sheet here and everything.”

  Taking the little index card back Tyler read it. “Oh I think I’ve got it. Tell me if I’m right? So the top line identifies the item which in this case is Footwear: Top-Siders. Beside the UOD it says Civ-Casual. Civilian casual?” At Stella’s nod, she read the next line. “‘Worn with pants: socks are optional. Worn with shorts: do not wear socks!’ I had no idea.”

  “That’s all right. I’m not sure anybody really understands how difficult the touchy-feely side of life is for her. Sometimes the kids call her a walking computer. Marnie’s boys are the worst. God I love those two dearly, but it’s really not fair to our girl, and I know it hurts her deeply. She might not know how to match up her shoes with her clothes anymore or figure out what colors go together but she’s still a person, she’s got feelings, and it makes me mad as all get out when the kids forget that.”

  Tyler folded the card, putting it back where she found it, returning the shoes to their place on the rack. Overwhelmed by what she’d just heard, and more than a little curious, she reached into the breast pocket of one of the older suit jackets. She found another folded index card. “UOD. What does that mean?”

  “Uniform of the Day. And before you ask she didn’t make it up, it’s just air force jargon. Military acronyms came back to her first, before anything, and we found it was the easiest way to communicate with her. In the morning before she dresses, she reads that personal schedule you maintain for her. The items you enter create the codes that go on these cards. Marnie had Skippy add a widget to her schedule program. From the moment she steps out of bed until the end of the day, she relies on that schedule. Uniform of the Day is simply the way she understands how to dress for her scheduled activities.”

  “So…if it’s a business day she comes in here and picks out…” Checking the card in her hand she read from the UOD line: “Business-Standard. Are there other classes of business wear?”

  “Of course,” she said, smiling. “The military is much like old Uncle John, the family tailor. You met him. Anyway, according to those two experts, there are always three levels of dress, with three forms of that dress. To begin with we have casual, standard and formal.” Stella led her down the row to where Georgie’s military uniforms were organized. “Here we go. Think of these combat uniforms—what do they call them, battle uniforms—as casual clothing. You know, something to wear when you don’t want to worry about getting dirty. I’m not a fan of the potato sack look but our Georgie pulls it off. Although to be fair, as a pilot, most of her days were spent in these flight suits. The tan is for desert duty and the sage is everything else. Now, this here jacket and skirt would be considered standard dress. She has slacks to go with it too. Her suits from old John are almost cut exactly like this uniform. And let me tell you, when that girl wears her blues, it never fails to bring a tear to Uncle Henry’s eyes.”

  “Wow, I see the similarity now. It’s a bit on the plain side, at least compared to some of the other services, don’t you think?”

  Stella smiled at her assumption. Pressed and hanging, Georgie’s uniforms were void of any of the military accoutrements she had earned. Pulling a nearby drawer open, she carefully removed several items, setting them out for Tyler to see.

  “Oh my God! Are all those hers?”

  “Yes indeed. Our girl’s a bona fide hero!”

  Tyler examined the four and a half rows of ribbons, the command and unit badges along with her Master Aviator wings. “I had no idea. I think I may cry if I ever see her wearing this.”

  “Oh you’ll see her wear it! And yes my dear, you will cry. Our girl’s a giant in uniform even if air force blues are a little on the plain side,” she offered with a wink. Removing one more item from the drawer, she unwrapped the mounted set of medals. They matched the same order as the ribbon set but included the actual medals. Stella handed them over. “Go on, take a good look now. You recognize any of these?”

  Tyler took her time, cradling the set as if they were most precious. “I think I’ve seen the one on the top.”

  “That’s the Purple Heart, sweetie.”

  “And the rest?”

  “Hmm, I only know a few. Oh this one here is the Air Force Commendation. And these ones with the stars means she’s received more than one of that type.”

  “What about this blue striped one, it has a V on it?” Tyler asked.

  “Oh that’s for Air Force Achievement and the V is for Valor, but don’t be looking to me for the story. That’s Georgie’s department.”

  “I can see her marching around in this, being all formal and in charge.”

  “That girl’s always carried herself well. It’s probably the only reason she can pull off her mess kit. It’s the air force’s idea of formal. I think it’s a horrendous sack to put on a beautiful woman but the military hasn’t come by my door to ask my opinion,” she added with a grin. She pulled out the waist length blue jacket with silk lapels, holding it up for Tyler. “Now this is worn with a white shirt, silk neck tab and a blue satin cummerbund over an ankle-length skirt.”

  Tyler recognized the style of a military tuxedo but had to agree with Stella on the adaptation to the female form. “I’m curious, Stella. What do you think of the tux?”

  Judging by the wicked grin she received, it was a good bet Stella approved. “Now I’ll be honest with yo
u, a tuxedo for a woman is not my first choice but for Georgie, I think you did terrific. Oh, and that green vest! Girl, you nailed it! I can’t wait till tomorrow night to finally see our Georgie out of those air force blues. And you,” Stella said. “I assume you picked up an appropriately lovely dress for tomorrow night?”

  “Me? Oh no. I’m on duty, so I’ll just be in a regular dress; it’s not like anyone will notice me.”

  “What?”

  What Tyler didn’t say was that after a year unemployed she couldn’t afford something new and had decided to make do with her standard little black dress. But flippant as she was, the truth of it was written on her face. Thankfully, Stella was both kind and perceptive.

  Retrieving her cell phone from her back pocket, she sent a quick text message before looking to her young friend. “First of all honey, a girl like you will always be noticed! Second, you’re not just Georgie’s right-hand man. Because of her…limited social graces, you are the de facto host for these events and that means you gotta get all dolled up!”

  “But…” Before Tyler could formulate a protest, her own cell phone went off. The sound of Darth Vader’s March was partially swallowed up by the room. Still she kicked herself when she realized Stella knew exactly who that notification was from.

  “Better read it. One should not keep Darth Marnie waiting…Dark Side and all that,” she said with a grin.

  Embarrassed, Tyler checked her phone.

  Joanne’s Boutique in Williamsville. GO NOW!

  “Okay…”

  Stella simply laughed, giving her back an affectionate rub. “Don’t you worry, I’ll keep an eye on our fearless leader. Head on over there and get yourself a pretty dress. Joanne will put it on the company account for you. After all, this goes to your expenses. You’re not to be out-of-pocket for these things. You remember that, sweetie.”

  Tyler was stunned. “You know?”

  “Of course I do girl. Oh, I may not have a fancy title like those other buggers, but when it comes to taking care of our Georgie, I’ve been the chairman of the board since day one. Well,” she amended, “day one was the military. Day two was that tramp, Margaret. Day three we got our girl back, and I’ve been on duty ever since. It’s a real relief to have you on the team, Tyler. You can’t know how much of a difference you have made for Georgie. You truly have!” She all but dragged Tyler from the room and all the way to the elevator. “Now, I will see you tomorrow night and not one minute earlier. Is that understood, young lady?”

  Tyler laughed, pressing the call button. “Thank you Stella. Thank you so much.”

  In the dressing room at Joanne’s Boutique, Tyler’s head snapped around at the sound of her sister slurping the last of her chocolate shake. “Kira! Stop behaving like a brat. I can’t believe you brought that in here.”

  “What? I’m pregnant,” she said as explanation while patting her belly. “Everyone knows I’m eating for two.”

  Shaking her head, she sat down beside her on the dressing room bench. “This is kind of weird. Just waiting for someone to bring you dresses. Don’t you think that’s weird?”

  “Will you relax? This is just how these classy places work. I don’t understand what you’re so strung out about. You were just complaining the other night that you didn’t have something nice to wear tomorrow.”

  “I have nice things to wear.” But she was right. Tyler had complained about her limited wardrobe. She had several dresses but they seemed to come in two varieties, the ladylike, wear-to-faculty-dinner-parties-type dresses and what her sister had described as the slightly slutty, party girl dresses. The only thing in her closet remotely formal was the fuchsia-colored bridesmaid’s gowns both she and Kira had endured for their cousin’s wedding.

  Moments later the shop owner herself carried in several gowns and hung them on the display rack. Tyler judged her to be about the same age as her, Marnie and Lori. Italian-looking and with a wicked sense of humor. She secretly wondered if Joanne was another of the DiNamico cousins.

  “Why don’t you two look these over while I go grab one more?” She retrieved Kira’s empty shake and headed out without comment.

  Standing and stretching, Kira began rifling through the small selection. “You must admit the woman pegged your size, but most of these are on the plain side.”

  “What do you think?” Tyler held out a simple black dress. Well, it was long, so that satisfied the formal aspect but frilly details had been added to the back of the dress and all down the arms. “I’m not sure this works for me.”

  “It’s ugly as sin. Besides, the last thing you want to do is decorate your backside and your arms. They’re your best features. You shouldn’t hide them.”

  “Better than my face you mean?”

  “Noooooooooo,” she dragged out like a dramatic tween, then, almost whispering, she hissed, “I meant over your boobs, you pumpkin head!”

  “Hey, just because the baby business is suddenly giving you big boobs doesn’t mean you can pick on mine.”

  Kira laughed at that. “Well, Mom says after she finished nursing you and me she pretty much went back to being flat as a board.”

  “Hardly! Our mother is not flat-chested.”

  “Not now.” She added, “She blames Megan for making her a C cup.”

  Holding a dress in front of her, Tyler asked, “What about this one?”

  “Oh my God!” Kira snorted. “That one’s worse than the other.”

  “That’s what I thought.” She hung it up, feeling pretty miserable with their prospects. “I shouldn’t have left this so late. I just really thought I could get away with something simple.”

  “And you can’t? Why is that?” she asked, shuffling back over to the upholstered bench. “I mean, it wouldn’t be a crime or anything.”

  “Well, according to Aunt Stella, I’m supposed to act as the evening’s hostess on Georgie’s behalf.”

  “Hostess?” she giggled. “That sounds funny. Speaking of which…”

  Joanne was back in the private viewing/dressing room. This time she had only one dress, still wrapped in tissue paper. Hanging it on the end of the rack, she tore the paper away to reveal a shimmering slender evening gown.

  From where Tyler was standing, the gown seemed to be black but as she moved closer the light reflected back with highlights of vivid greens, blues, and shimmering black. “Wow!”

  “I know,” Joanne answered. “This was actually a custom order. It didn’t come in until this morning. Lucky for you it came in late, or someone would have snapped it up by now.”

  Even Kira struggled back to her feet to take a closer look. Examining the fabric closely, she asked, “What are these, some sort of sequins?”

  “Tiny glass beads. They’re actually black. It’s the dress that’s made up of several colors, but with the beads over top of it you don’t notice until the light catches it in just a certain way.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Kira said. “Try it on pumpkin head. I have to see what it looks like on you.”

  Taking a deep breath, Tyler began stripping out of her work gear. Unceremoniously dumping her dress boots, she grumbled about her socks and not having on the right underwear.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Kira clumsily sat her heavily pregnant body back down on the bench. Retrieving her oversized purse, she sorted through the quagmire, finally tossing a pair of three-inch heels on the floor. “There you go, whiner, I knew you’d need these. Got you covered…as usual!”

  Tyler slid on the designer shoes, and concentrated on the collar of the dress while Joanne zipped up the side. There was no back zipper because there was no back. She stood transfixed at her own image. If she hadn’t known better she would’ve sworn the dress had been made for her. Every cut and curve followed her long form, softening her looks and adding an air of elegance and something else.

  “Holy smokes pumpkin! Check out your booty in that thing. If Zoe doesn’t throw herself at you tomorrow night, I’m sure all the guys will!”

&nbs
p; Tyler had panic in her eyes as she turned her head to get a better look at her backside, “Oh no no no no,” she stammered, stepping away from the full-length mirror. “This is too…too…”

  “Too what?” Joanne asked politely and with a grin.

  When she didn’t answer, Kira stood again, turning her sister so they were facing one another, communicating silently in their spooky way. Finally she said, “You look beautiful. I know you’re feeling a little shy, sweetie, but you’ve got it, so flaunt it!”

  Tyler was still wide-eyed.

  “Yes your ass looks great in this thing and so does the rest of you. Go on, take another look.” Coaxing her in front of the mirror, Kira prompted Joanne for her opinion, asking, “Do you know what any of the other women might be wearing?”

  “Of course, including myself.”

  “You’re cousins, aren’t you?” Tyler asked.

  Joanne grinned at the pair. “Guilty. And yes I’ll be there tomorrow night. And no you will not be the only woman wearing something this hot. I think it’s perfect.” Just then the doorbell rang in the front showroom. “I’ll leave you two to talk. If you like it, don’t change yet. I’d like to take the hem up just a bit. Unless you’re planning to wear a different pair of shoes?”

  “Those are perfect, if you’d like to borrow them?” Kira asked, pointing to the heels. “Not like I’ll need them. The fanciest I plan to get tomorrow night is my pink bunny slippers.”

  Tyler just nodded, waiting patiently until Joanne was clear of the room and hopefully out of hearing range. “I can’t do this. No Kira, I’m serious. I can’t pull this off…can I?”

  “You can and you will.” Kira gave her arm a squeeze. “Hey. I know you’ve been in a slump lately. Hell, it’s been a hard year for everyone. But I know my other half better than anyone else and you got this. You look fantastic and you know it. So why don’t you tell me what this is really about?”

  Sitting together on the bench, Tyler removed her sister’s Jimmy Choo’s, pretending to be giving them a once-over. “These are nice.”