Page 29 of A Class of Her Own

I nodded. “That’s true.”

“It’s like how a lot of people read romance novels.”

I called to two boys to quit wrestling and then looked to Ruby. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see the connection.”

She smiled. “Some people say that romance novels lead to unrealistic expectations. But thousands of people read them and don’t leave their husbands or children to go seek their one true love.”

“Riiiight . . .”

“So, stands to reason that a lot of people woodwork, but it doesn’t take over their entire existence.”

“True.”

“I like to draw blood, but you don’t see me going around trying to stab everyone.”

“Gratefully,” I replied.

“Okay. So, we can agree it’s a fact about him and not a big deal?”

“Yes,” I nodded, feeling that particular mix of slightly confused and also strangely lighter about everything that came from chatting with Rubes. “But you know that it’s really not a big deal to me what he chooses to do with his free time. I’m not sure why I even mentioned it or why it caused any sort of reaction.”

“Because you don’t hate him as much as you thought you did.” She offered me a smile, and then a noise caught both of our attention. “Griffin,” she yelled, her voice carrying above the fray, “tables are for sitting at, not standing on.”

One of my favorite things about being an adult is the ability to avoid things I don’t like. Sure, on occasion I get forced into a situation, but for the most part I don’t do things I don’t want to do. I don’t eat mustard, I don’t accept invitations to go out for seafood, and I don’t try on frilly dresses while standing in front of a mirror and having my four best friends commenting on it.

Yet, there I was, in a bridal dress shop being forced to select a bridal party dress for Lizzie’s wedding—and the color palette was shades of pink. The room was filled with mirrors and painted in white with about two bazillion lights pointing at one pedestal. White couches and chairs, along with a glass coffee table, surrounded the pedestal. The only color in the room came from the clothes we were wearing and from an entire rack filled with hanging dresses in pretty much the same color. I stared at the rack as Lizzie told us that her theme was rose and rosewood, which was, uh, the same thing.

She called me up first, and I lightly touched one of the dresses before pulling my hand away like I’d been burned. “So . . . pink then?” I said.

“No,” Lizzie shook her head. “Rose and rosewood. Two different colors.” She pulled out two dresses in very slightly different shades. “See, this lighter one is rose, and this darker one is . . .”

“Rosewood,” I replied with more sarcasm than I’d liked to have.

Lizzie looked up at me with a squinty-eyed expression that her future children would fear. “Just like your heart is currently being shades of burnt and ash.”

Stifled laughter came from the rest of the ladies, and a smile tugged at my mouth. “Dibs on rosewood,” I said.

Lizzie nodded and sorted through the rack before pulling out a gown and holding it up to me. “This gown would look nice on you. It’s got straight lines and fitted sleeves. You’ve got the body for it. Try it on.”

I took it out of her hands and moved to a dressing room while exchanging looks with Hailey and Aryn. Ruby, who had been next in line, was busy with Lizzie. Hailey gave me a thumbs up, and Aryn shrugged while she mouthed ‘good luck’ to me. Well, at least I’d be making Lizzie happy, I supposed, even if my soul was hissing like a vampire in the sun at the thought of wearing pink.

I put the gown on and zipped it as far as I could without help. Turning side-to-side in the mirror, I had to admit that the cut suited me. If only it had been a navy blue or deep green. I’d have even supported a rich purple. But this made me feel like a package of smarties or a pixie stick. People I knew would be at the wedding. People who would be astonished to see me like this. I pulled a face in the mirror.

“Are you ready, Mer?” Lizzie called excitedly.

I groaned under my breath, reminded myself how much I adored that curly-headed lady, and swept the door open. “Yep.”

“Come stand on the pedestal,” Lizzie directed.

I did my level best not to meet anyone’s eyes as I crossed the room and climbed up onto the raised platform in front of a half circle of mirrors. I blinked a few times as the beams of light tried to burn my eyeballs out of their sockets.

“Um, do I really need to stand here? Isn’t this reserved for wedding gowns and brides?” I asked.

Lizzie’s eyes met mine in the mirror. “It’s for whatever I want it to be for.”

Okey-dokey. I nodded. Lizzie walked around me a few times, stepping up next to me to finish zipping the dress, before moving back down to circle again. After her third pass I looked to see how my friends were reacting. They were all smiling at me. Hailey looked like a proud mom. Aryn looked amused, and Ruby had glowing hearts for eyes.

“It suits you,” Lizzie pronounced.

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