Page 47 of Doing It for Love

We pull up to a shop with sleek black and white paneling, and I give Theresa a look that I know I should feel bad about, but I’m too “unbearable” to care. There is no way I’ll be able to afford anything inside those doors.

“Make sure your left hand is front and center,” she says as we hop out of the car. I twist my ring, liking the extra weight, and for two seconds I feel like my normal self. Until we walk in and see one—and only one—rack that says,ON SALE! DRESSES UNDER $999.99.

I’m going to need a bigger candy bar.

—

Theresa covers her huge grin, eyes lingering up and down the bodice of this unbelievably beautiful dress I told her she’s not allowed to like because the tag says, “$First Born Child.”

“It’s hideous,” she lies.

“I knew I shouldn’t have tried it on.” I’m never going to take it off. My fingers tumble down my stomach, over the satin, the lace, the red flowery seams. “Maybe they’ll take a Starbucks card.”

“You’ll just have to save up for it.”

“That and everything else.”

Theresa fixes the veil atop my head, gently admiring the tiny red flowers jeweled along the hem. I flick my gaze back and forth between my best friend and this gown I’ve only seen in my wildest dreams. It makes me look like I’ve been dropped from the heavens. I could be plastered on magazines titled “Goddesses Do Exist!” I don’t want to take off this magical material that has transformed the unbearable shrew into the fairest of them all.

And myass!It’s never looked so awesome.

“Oh, wow,” I hear behind me, and I look over my shoulder to a dimply woman with wild brown hair gazing admiringly at me on my tiny pedestal. “That dress is gorgeous on you.”

And if I hadn’t gone bat crazy before, I do now, slamming my face into my hands and shouting through muffled sobs, “I know!”

Theresa holds on to my shoulders, and I see through my fingers her making a lack-of-money gesture at this poor woman who is now witness to my mental breakdown.

“Goodness, I’m sorry,” she fumbles, adjusting the bright green bridesmaid dress over her arm. “I understand, though. When I got married I had to wear the cheapest gown I could find. It wasn’t the one I wanted, but if it’s any consolation, out of all the things that happened that day, the second-best dress was the least of my problems.”

Oh, that’s justfabulous.My shoulders heave as another wave of crazy sobs cascade through my body. The lady starts waving her hands as if she didn’t mean to make things worse, but sweet mother of pearl, what else am I to expect on what is supposed to be the most epic day of my life?

Theresa continues to rub my arms, trying to calm me down, but there is no way in hell that it’s going to happen. I need Landon. I need cuddles. I need touchy-touchy kissy-kissy.

The woman takes a step toward me, bends down, and fixes the long train. “Did you get this in the winter department?”

Theresa nods for me, grabbing a conveniently placed box of tissues on a table near the mirrors.

“When’s your date?”

I clear my throat, take a Kleenex, and dab at my nose. “January fifteenth.”

Her face brightens. “Well, if you’re not in a hurry…this store always does a winter sale. Every winter bride gets a discount, and all winter dresses are marked down. So knock a couple zeroes off the tag. If the dress is still here, that’s probably what it’ll cost.”

I blink a few times, stare at her as if she’s gone crazy with me. But she just gives me an awkward smile.

“Seriously?” I croak.

She nods. “It’s a way for them to clean out their winter stuff so the spring line can come in. My sister-in-law wanted a fifteen-hundred-dollar dress, waited a couple weeks for the sale, and got it for five hundred.”

I grasp onto Theresa to keep from falling off the pedestal.

“It’s a long shot…the dress may not be here, but it may be worth the wait if it is.”

My eyes narrow, because this all sounds too easy, too convenient, too much like she’s spouting bull to make up for making me cry.

“You’re not just trying to get this dress for yerself, are ya?” Suddenly the Georgia accent I’ve sort of lost over the past few years comes back, and I’m pointing an accusing finger at her. “Tell me this so I don’t buy it, then ya’ll come in and swipe it from under my nose.”

Her big eyes widen with equal amusement and confusion. She looks to Theresa, who’s laughing her ass off and I don’t know why.

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