by Portia Moore
Mel turns towards me, looking as frustrated as I’ve ever seen her—and that includes the funk I was in after I broke up with Jackson. “But what if I don’t? What if I’m just not the kind of girl that has a ‘dress moment’?”
“You might not have that ‘start to cry while looking at yourself in the mirror’ moment, but you’ll know when you find something that makes you feel really beautiful. And that’s all that matters.”
Melissa smiles weakly. “Thanks, Maddy. This is just harder than I thought it would be.”
Despite my encouragement, the second store doesn’t net us any really good finds either. We make our way to the third one, and the first dress this associate puts her in is a pretty, plain white silk dress with a high neck, sleeveless, a low back, and a skirt that sweeps the floor in a short train. I see Melissa pause as she looks in the mirror, then she glances back at us. “I think I like this one.”
“Okay, that’s a start!” Both my mother and I chime in at the same time.
“The first one you liked is one without lace or any embellishments,” I add, “so maybe try some more like that.”
The next one is a stiff, plain duchess satin, with a sharp V-neck, cap sleeves, and a full skirt…and it has pockets. “I do think I like the plainer ones more,” Melissa says, turning both ways in the mirror. “I even like the full skirt on this one.” She purses her lips. “But maybe it’s too plain? I want something that stands out a little, I think. I’m just not crazy about lace or things that sparkle.”
I am starting to feel a little buzzed by the time this saleslady hands me my glass of champagne—the fourth one this morning—and warm and light and happy at the same time. This is fun!, I think to myself. Much more fun than I thought it would be. I’m able to forget all of the things that have been worrying me, as well as the family conflicts we’ve been having lately.
There’s a few more dresses that Melissa immediately hates, and then she comes out in the fifth one, her face glowing as she turns towards the mirror. “I think this might be the one,” she whispers.
It’s beautiful.
The sleeves are off the shoulder; three staggered layers of thick, stiff white satin that bypass each other over her bustline to create a neckline that’s sexy but restrained. It’s almost architectural and the sharp, stiff lines are in direct contrast to the rest of the dress. The plain white bodice is fitted and buttons trail down to the waistline, which then flares out into a wide, draping white skirt that pools around Melissa like a luxurious lake.
The saleslady brings her a fingertip-length veil, sliding the comb carefully into Melissa’s thick, curled hair, and the tulle flows around her shoulders and arms, the softness of it beautiful against the austere whiteness of the dress.
“It’s definitely the one,” Melissa says, her eyes glistening. “Wow…I can’t believe this. I can’t believe I’m about to cry over a dress. This is ridiculous…”
My mom is full-on crying, which was always expected, but even I’m a little misty. “You deserve it,” I say firmly.
“Shit! I didn’t even look at the price tag.” She glances at it and grimaces. “This is…a little above my budget.”
“I’ll pitch in,” my mother says quickly. “I can’t do a lot…but this is definitely the one, sweetheart. You should see your face.”
I’m thrilled for Melissa, but less thrilled that it’s now my turn. For all of her indecision about what she wanted out of her own dress, she’s the exact opposite when it comes to ours.
Melissa has styles picked out, but not colors. “You don’t know what your wedding colors are?” The saleslady who asks this looks very close to exasperated. “You can’t really choose dresses until you know that.”
“I just want to choose a style. They can get it in the right color later, can’t they?”
The saleslady exhales slowly, shaking her head. “Not everything comes in all colors. You really need to know that, first.”
Melissa looks nervous. “Um…let me text Greg?”
This turns out to be useless, as Greg has absolutely no opinion about color palettes for their wedding. She looks at me next, throwing her hands up in frustration. “I have no idea, Madison.”
“Well, your favorite color is purple, right?”
Melissa nods. “Yeah, it is.”
“And you want a spring wedding?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Silver or gold?”
“Um…silver.”
“Lavender, white, and silver. It’ll be crisp, clean, and classic, just like your wedding dress, and you can find gorgeous flowers. I’d say actual lavender, lots of greenery, and white and lavender roses. There’s your bouquet, too.”
Melissa sighs. “Madison, you’re a lifesaver.”
“I just know color palettes and, just so you know, I hate lavender too, so now you know I love you. Let’s try on dresses.”
“I want straight, fitted sheath dresses in the chosen color. Cap sleeves, V-neck.”
“Don’t you think maybe adding some texture to the bridesmaid dresses might look good, considering how smooth and plain yours is?”
Melissa purses her lips. “You just don’t want to wear a satin sheath dress, do you?”
“It’s possibly one of the least flattering things on me that you could have chosen. But,” I say quickly, seeing her eyes narrow, “it’s your wedding, and if that’s really what you want, I’ll wear it.”
“What would you pick out?”
I’m surprised by how much of my opinion Melissa seems to want, but it seems as if wedding planning really has thrown her for a loop. All my life she’s been the organized, Type-A personality sister, but she’s out of her depth here, and I’m surprising myself by how much of this I’m coming up with on the fly.
I look through a handful of dresses on the rack and pull one out. The sample is a horrid peach color, but the fabric swatches hanging next to it confirm that it comes in lavender. It has the cap sleeves and V-neck with fitted satin bodice that Melissa wanted, but the skirt is A-line, with soft layers of tulle. It buttons down the back, and I think in the right color might actually be pretty, despite my feelings about purple.
“How about I try this on?”
“Okay,” Melissa relents. “But if I don’t like it, we’re going with my original idea.”
The saleslady helps her back into the wedding gown she chose, so she can see them side by side, and when I emerge I stand next to her in front of the three-way mirror. I’m far from glamorous, with my hair in a ponytail and only mascara for makeup, but the effect is exactly what I thought it would be. The texture of the bridesmaid’s dress sets hers off even more, and I see her smile ruefully. “For once I guess I have to concede that you were right, Madison.”
“It’s the only time it’ll ever happen, I’m sure. Can I get out of this now?”
“Yeah, go ahead. I’ll find out where Mom wants to go for lunch.”
The dress is more expensive than I hoped for—four hundred dollars—but I figure the combination of Melissa’s happiness and the fact that it’s a reasonably flattering dress is worth it. I tell the saleslady I’ll call to put in an order in the next few weeks, and we head over to the lunch spot, a little café that I’ve never been to before.
I order a turkey avocado panini and a side salad, and we settle into our booth. “I’m really glad I was able to come this weekend,” I say, glancing at Melissa and our mother. “This was way more fun than I expected it to be.”
“I didn’t really think I’d find a dress this soon, but I’m glad I did. There isn’t all that long until the wedding, considering.”
“So, have you thought about who you’re going to have walk you down the aisle?” my mother asks, and silence falls over the table for a moment. The elephant in the room has awoken and I see my mother instantly wince after realizing where this conversation may go, since she just opened the door.
Melissa clears her throat and I set my glass of water down, feeling my stomach start t
o churn a little.
“I was thinking about Greg’s dad. It’s not a big deal to me.” Mel recovers quickly but the door is cracked open now. I stay quiet, however. Today isn’t about me or him or anything that will piss Melissa off so I fill my mouth with some of the salad on my plate.
“Madison.” My mom’s tone has dipped a bit and I know she’s about to bring up what I had made up my mind not to.
“Are you still set on meeting with Robert?” she asks, quietly. Mel’s eyes widen a bit but she doesn’t speak. It’s my turn to clear my throat.
“I actually did already,” I grunt out and both their eyebrows shoot up to their foreheads. Mel looks squarely between uninterested and anxious.
“You didn’t say anything,” my mom says, her voice slightly raising.
“There was nothing to tell. We didn’t really get to talk.”
“What happened?” Mel interjects, more interested than someone who says she didn’t want anything to do with him.
“You know me, I sort of lost it on him and there wasn’t really a conversation of course,” I say half joking. Mel rolls her eyes.
“Typical,” she huffs.
“Why do you care? You said you didn’t even want to have anything to do with him,” I fire back.
“Because it’s just like you to act first and think later.” She shakes her head indignantly; I frown.
“I’m really trying to be nice to you today and you’re making it really fucking hard.”
“Girls!” my mom interjects tightly and we both stop.
“I need to tell you both something,” my mother says quietly, and the churning in my stomach starts to form into a knot.
Melissa glances at me and I flush.
“Things were very complicated between your father and I,” she starts.
“Mom, you don’t have to explain,” Mel tells her and I fight everything in me to not tell her to shut the hell up and let Mom finish.
“No Mel, I should have had this conversation with you both a long time ago. It was selfish of me not to and for that I’m sorry.” I relax a little in my seat as I see Mel’s back stiffen. My mom lets out a long sigh before dipping her head.
“Your father wasn’t a great husband. To be completely honest, he was terrible.” Mel reaches for my mom’s hand and holds it. I want to do the same but I decide to let her finish first.
“We were young. I don’t think he was ready for marriage, but I became pregnant—and not long after, I was pregnant again—and the issues we had in our relationship, much to my dismay, didn’t magically become fixed. If anything, they were amplified.” She lets out a dry laugh.
“Your dad cheated. I forgave him but it kept happening, until he finally admitted he was in love with someone else.”
My chest feels as if it’s getting tighter.
“I was furious, of course. I had stayed with him through the cheating, through the fights…I thought he’d grow out of it eventually, that we could make things work. It wasn’t as if our entire life was terrible; we had you girls and we both loved you so much. I thought we could make things work for you,” she says, her voice becoming lighter but at the same time tighter. I bring my hand to hers now, seeing the pain and hurt in her eyes. She squeezes my hand before letting out another breath. My eyes dart to Mel but she’s not looking at me at all, just Mom.
“Then he told me that he had a child with her.” I hear Mel’s breath hitch but I figured it had to be coming, knowing that Kristen isn’t that much younger than Mel and me.
“I was furious. Beyond furious. I never hated someone as much as I did your father in that moment.” Her voice is deep and croaky now and she takes a sip of water.
“He told me that he was leaving me to be with Jennifer.” She rolls her eyes as she says her name.
“What an asshole,” Mel spits angrily. My mom’s lips press together in a thin line.
“I’m not proud of what I did next,” she says hesitantly. I start to bite my lip.
“I told him that I never wanted to see him again,” she adds. There’s a long pause.
“That’s understandable Mom, after what he did. He at least deserved that,” Mel encourages her. I let my grip on my mother’s hand go even though she’s still holding mine.
“And what happened?” I ask, hearing my voice shaking. She looks at me with eyes full of tears and something I recognize fully because I see it every day I look in the mirror. Shame and guilt.
“What do you mean ‘what happened’ Madison? He left us, he never came back,” Mel declares indignantly, but my eyes won’t leave my mother’s face.
“Let her finish,” I say pointedly, emphasizing each word.
“Tell her Mom,” Mel urges, but my mom is quiet for what seems like an eternity as tears fall from her eyes. Mel grabs a napkin and hands it to her which she takes.
“He wanted to be a part of your lives,” she says quietly and I take my hand from hers. I glance at Mel, who looks confused.
“I was so angry. I felt betrayed, I wasn’t thinking straight…I thought that since he hurt me he would eventually hurt you girls.”
“Did you really think that?” I ask, a hint of anger lacing my tone.
“At the time, I convinced myself—” I laugh and shake my head, tears springing to my eyes now.
“Mom, I don’t understand. He never came back,” Mel corrects her.
“He did. I didn’t allow him to see you girls. We went to court and I won.”
“That’s so fucked up!” I say, standing from the table.
“I’m so sorry.” She reaches for me and I scowl at her.
“You screwed us up. Do you understand what you did to me!” I yell, and other patrons are starting to look at us but I don’t give a shit.
“Madison sit down, let Mom finish,” Mel urges me but I’m done with the conversation.
“Now—when we’re fucking adults—now there’s a conversation that needs to be had? After all the missed talent shows and graduations and first dates?” My voice is trembling now.
“You have to understand, Maddy, I was torn apart when he left. Your father was my first and only love, and he betrayed me. It was the worst emotional pain I’ve ever felt. I couldn’t bear the thought of having to see him, and when I realized he was actually pursuing the woman he’d cheated on me with…that she would be a part of your lives…it was just too much. I told him no, that he’d given up the right to his family when he’d betrayed them and lied. That I couldn’t trust him, or this other woman. And then he married her…and that sealed it.”
“Did he ever try to get you to reconsider?” Melissa asks quietly.
“I thought I was keeping you from being confused, from a bad influence for a father, from being around the kind of woman who would steal another woman’s man for a stepmother. I told myself I was doing the right thing, teaching you to be strong women who don’t give in to a man who lies to you. But I see now that it had consequences I didn’t think about.”
Melissa’s eyes are downcast but other than that she looks composed, more disappointed than anything. But how is she not furious? How is she not ready to scream at our mother, after finding out that we could have had a relationship with our father all this time, and she kept it from us?
“I don’t think what you did was right but I can understand it a little.”
My mother’s face softens, glad for Melissa’s forgiveness, and I know I could just agree, shove my feelings down, and keep the peace. But I’m too furious to do that. All I can think of is the myriad of bad decisions I’ve made, the mistrust of men, the fear of commitment, of being left, that’s plagued me my whole life! My whole life I’ve believed that my father didn’t want me, that he didn’t love me. And now I find out that that isn’t true.
It’s my mother who’s lied to me.
“This is insane. I’m leaving.” I quickly stand up, shocked by what my mother just laid out at lunch as if it was nothing.
“Madison—”
“I don�
�t want to talk to you right now. All these years, and you never said a word? All these years I thought you were just scraping by, abandoned by my deadbeat of a father, and come to find out you made the choice to shut him out. You kept him away. He might not have wanted you, but he wanted us.” I’m breathless, tears hot and bright in my eyes. My mother looks shocked, reeled back by that last statement, but I don’t care. I shove my chair out and rush towards the door, desperately needing some fresh air.
I gasp for air as I make it outside.
I’m searching for an Uber on my phone when I see them walking toward me.
“Madison calm down,” Mel urges, and I scoff at both of them.
“Mom’s human, Maddy, she made a mistake.”
“She should have owned up to it years ago. Jesus, Melissa, she should at the very least have told us when we were eighteen.”
“Madison I’m sorry.” Mom attempts to reach me but I pull away and storm off down the street.
I manage to keep my composure until I get in the Uber, and then I let the tears slide down my face once I’m safely inside. The feeling of betrayal washes over me until I’m sick with it. Is this how she felt? I wonder as I bite my lip, trying not to sob as the car drifts in and out of Chicago traffic. I text Alex and let him know I’m coming home.
15
I don’t tell Alex what happened until he gets home. I would have called him as soon as it happened but I know he would have come straight to me and tonight he’s working a big event. When he comes in I plan on having my emotions together, to sit and calmly explain what happened but the moment he walks through the door with his easy smile his eyes lighting up as he sees me, I crumble. He rushes to me and pulls me against his broad chest, feeling my own tighten with emotion all over again. He holds me close and rubs my back.
“Babe, what’s wrong. What happened?” he asks leading me to the couch. He wipes my tears with his shirt and rocks me like I’m a new born baby. I finally catch my breath and tell him everything.
