Page 24 of Betsy
“Who knows her better than you? I bet you can pick out a gown that will make your mom cry.”
Sierra’s button nose scrunched. “We want her to cry?”
I steered her toward a wall of gowns whose hems almost grazed the ground. “We most certainly do. Molly.” I looked over my shoulder.
Molly held up her cell phone. “Jocelyn and I are already on it.” She pulled a lace-covered number off the rack and held the phone out. After a minute, she returned the dress.
Amanda was covered.
I went back to where Sierra stood struggling to separate the densely hung gowns so she could look at one.
“So,” I said. “What kind of dress do you think your mom would like?”
She bit the corner of her bottom lip. “Well, I know a lot of people want to feel like a princess on their wedding day.”
“Some do. Does your mom?”
Her shoulders lifted then fell. “I think she secretly wants to feel…” Her eyes darted around the room. She rose on her tiptoes and cupped a hand around her mouth as if she were sharing a secret. “Sexy,” she whispered as her plump cheeks turned a deep scarlet.
I looked into Sierra’s eyes and grinned. “I couldn’t agree more.”
We bypassed the ballgowns and headed to a section of dresses that would only be described as slinky. Form-fitting numbers that were more fit for a princess of the ocean than one living in a castle. I pushed all the gowns to one side, then slowly went through them one by one. I paused on a pearl-white gown with a feminine floral lace overlay, a key-hole back, and the illusion of a plunging neck line.
Sierra’s breath caught, and I looked down at her. “This one?”
She nodded.
“I think so too.”
Molly also had a dress draped over her arm as we approached the dressing room from opposite ends of the boutique.
“What did you find?” she asked.
The hem of the dress fell to the floor as I held up the top by the hanger. Molly’s eyes widened.
“You?”
She lowered her arm, and the skirt of the dress cascaded to pool on the carpet. I reached out and fingered the material. Satin. Without a bead or flounce or applique in sight. The thing would probably feel like air on. Perfect for Amanda.
Molly and I grinned at each other.
“Are you guys done yet? It’s getting cold standing here in my underwear,” Amanda complained.
“Here you go.” Molly thrust the dress past the curtain.
“I’ve got yours too, Nicole.”
Nicole’s hand shot out, and I put the gown in her open palm.
“I can’t wear this!” she shrieked a moment later.
“Yes, you can. I’ll help with the zipper.”
“It’s not the zipper I’m worried about!”
“Please, Mom,” Sierra begged. “I picked it out for you.”
Nicole sighed. “I’ll try it on for you, but you might want to start looking for another dress. Maybe one a little, uh, bigger.”
