Page 24 of Our Big White Lie
So we were. She had to park about a block away, and after we’d paid the meter, we walked back toward the shop.
Lynnette’s Bridal Boutique was in a bougie part of town. No, really. It was beneath a stack of expensive condos, and it was tucked between one of those ridiculously high-end realestate agencies and an art gallery that sold fifty-thousand-dollar paintings.Bougie.
At the door, I hesitated. “I’m getting sticker shock already, and we haven’t even walked in.”
Ava laughed, put a hand on the small of my back, and gently herded me inside, which I probably liked more than I should have. Before I could give that too much thought, she said, “I looked on their website. They have stuff we can afford.”
“Are you sure?” I swept my gaze around, taking in the sight of dresses that probably cost more than my car. “I don’t think I can even afford their free coffee.”
She smothered a giggle. “Relax. I promise—they have a good range.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Does our end of the price range include nice stuff? Or secondhand flower girl dresses that desperately need to go to the dry cleaner?”
She rolled her eyes. “Nicestuff. Calm down.”
Before I could say anything more, a tall Black woman in a blue pantsuit approached us. “Good morning! You must be Tori and Ava!”
My brain record-scratched for a second; how the hell did she know?
But about the time Ava was confirming who we were, it occurred to me that we had an appointment in the otherwise empty storyandwe were a same-sex couple. Probably not difficult to guess.
“Well, I’m Lynnette,” she said. “Welcome to the store. Now, you have a few people joining you, is that correct?”
I nodded. “Our moms, her aunt, and my sister.”
“Perfect.” Lynnette gestured for us to follow her. “Carrie will send them back when they arrive.” She nodded toward the receptionist, who gave us a little wave.
Lynnette took us into her office, and we sat down. “The reason I have my bride—or brides, in this case—come before their entourages is that I want to get a feel for whatyouwant. Before anyone else is here to influence anything.”
I grimaced. “Does that happen a lot? People trying to push the bride into something she doesn’t want?”
“Oh.” Lynnette touched her chest and rolled her eyes. “So much. I used to work for one of the bridal chains, and the amount of bullying and badgering I saw these poor brides endure?” Making a face, she shook her head. “That was the first thing I decided when I opened my own boutique—we were nipping that nonsense in the bud.”
“Good idea,” Ava said. “Our moms are pretty chill, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”
Lynnette nodded. “Wonderful. Honestly, I think the worst are usually the bride’s mother, the groom’s mother, or a maid of honor.”
“The groom’s mom?” I scowled. “That seems like a lot of audacity, pressuring her daughter-in-law about the wedding dress.”
“Mmhmm. Luckily, some of them see it for the red flag it is. They tell their men, either get your mom straight, or go get a refund on this ring.”
Ava and I both laughed.
“Smart,” Ava said. “I have a coworker whose mother-in-law is the biggest pain in the butt. And her husband has been making excuses for the woman for like thirty years.”
“Couldn’t be me,” Lynnette said with an emphatic shake of her head. “The one time my mother-in-law stepped out of line, I told my husband, either you deal with this or you can both leave.”
“Did he?” I asked, because I was painfully curious.
She held up her left hand and pointed to the immense rock on her ring finger. “I wouldn’t still be wearing this if he didn’t. And don’t get me wrong—his mama’s great most of the time. There was just some… boundary-setting in the beginning.”
“My coworker should do that,” Ava muttered. “Though after this long…”
“Good luck with that,” Lynnette said.
“Right?” Ava waved her hand. “Anyway. Knowing us we’ll get carried away talking about everything but why we’re here.”
“She’s not wrong,” I said.
