Page 9 of The Stranger in the Mirror

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Blythe

Blythe put on her pearl studs and regarded herself in the dressing table mirror. The fine lines at the corners of her eyes and the slight frown line between her brows were a little more obvious than last year, harbingers of the aging that in a few years would make her the proverbial older woman who “must have been a real beauty when she was young.” Lots of her friends were getting Botox and fillers. That was fine for them, but it wasn’t something she was interested in. She’d been blessed with great skin, and wore no makeup beyond a touch of bronzer, a sheer pink lip gloss, and on special occasions, a coat of mascara. There was a certain lightness about her, reflected in the natural fibers she favored, her loose, wavy hair, which never looked “done,” and her lithe, athletic body. Here, this all said, was a woman who was comfortable in her own skin, who made other people comfortable when they were with her. It was one of the things Ted had always loved about her, he said.

Blythe glanced at her watch and saw that they had to leave in a few minutes. She called up the stairs to Hailey, who had spent the night at the house. “Are you almost ready, honey?”

“Coming,” her daughter called back.

They’d arranged to meet Addison at Chantal Morgan Couture for their 10:00 a.m. appointment. When Blythe first proposed the outing, Addison had demurred, saying she didn’t want to spend a lot of money on a wedding gown she’d wear once and mentioningthat a coworker had suggested she check out Rent the Runway. It wasn’t that Blythe turned her nose up at frugality, and she knew a lot of young women used and loved Rent the Runway. Fine. But a wedding dress was special, and she hated the idea of Addison renting one when Blythe was willing to buy her any dress she wanted.

Hailey came bounding down the stairs, her short blond hair still damp. She was tall and slim, like her mother, and wore a navy-blue jumpsuit that accentuated her height even more.

Blythe grabbed her handbag from the hall table and headed out the door. “Let’s go. Don’t want to be late.”

“This is so exciting.” Hailey settled into the car and buckled her seat belt. “I can’t wait to see what dress she picks.”

“I wish Addison had even a quarter of your enthusiasm,” Blythe said as she pulled out of the driveway.

Hailey turned to look at her mother. “Addison doesn’t let her emotions show much, Mom. You know that. It doesn’t mean she’s not enthusiastic.”

“I guess I don’t understand. This is supposed to be one of the happiest times in a young woman’s life. She should be brimming with excitement. Certainly Darcy would be,” Blythe said, keeping her eyes fixed on the road.

“Mom.” Hailey said the word like a reprimand. “You have to stop this. Gabriel’s not marrying Darcy. He’s in love with Addison. I don’t know why you’re having such a hard time with that.”

Blythe flexed her fingers on the steering wheel but said nothing. Hailey was right about Addison. She might not have had Darcy’s joie de vivre, but why would she, given all that she’d had to overcome? If Blythe were being honest, she had to admit that Addison possessed an inner strength, a courage even, that was admirable. It was unfair to compare her to Darcy. “Have you andAddison talked aboutyourdress?” she asked, changing the subject.

“She just said to pick something I’d be happy to wear again. Not a froufrou bridesmaid dress, thank goodness. But I’ll wait and let her choose hers first.”

Blythe didn’t reply. Hailey was to be Addison’s only attendant. It bothered Blythe that in the two years Addison had lived in Philadelphia, she hadn’t gotten close enough to anyone else to include in the wedding. She wondered what that said about Addison’s ability to connect with people.

Blythe was able to avoid sensitive topics for the rest of the short drive, and when they walked into the salon, she was pleased to see that Addison was already there and talking to Philippa Morgan, the owner.

“Ah, here they are,” Philippa said as she and Addison turned to welcome them. “Hello, Mrs. Oliver. Addison and I were just talking about what kind of style she has in mind.”

“Please call me Blythe. This is my daughter, Hailey.” She stepped forward to give Addison a quick hug. “Hello, my dear.”

“Thank you for arranging this, Blythe,” Addison said. “I appreciate it.”

“Wonderful,” Philippa gushed. “May I get you coffee or tea? Perhaps some water?”

“Nothing for me,” Addison said.

Blythe waved her hand. “Maybe later. Why don’t we get started?”

“Perfect. Well, as I was saying, Addison and I had a few minutes to talk about the styles she’s interested in seeing, so why don’t you and Hailey have a seat while I take the bride-to-be to the dressing room?” The owner turned to Addison. “All long-sleeved, right?” She waited for Addison’s nod and then said to Blythe, “She’ll be out in a jiffy to model for you.”

After a few minutes Philippa swept back into the room with a flourish. “Here is the first dress for you to see.”

When Addison stepped up onto the dais in a Carolina Herrera silk gown with a cascading train in the back, both mother and daughter gasped. She looked stunningly beautiful in the elegant, form-fitting dress.

“Oh my,” Blythe finally said. “I’m not sure she needs to try on anything else.”

“It’s fabulous,” Hailey chimed in. “You look amazing.”

“I... I don’t know,” Addison said, turning around and looking at her reflection from different angles. She stepped down from the pedestal and went to Blythe. “It’s so expensive,” she said softly. “I didn’t even want to try it on, but Philippa insisted.”

“She was right. It’s perfect for you.”

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