a sales rack that displayed some longer dresses—I guess to clear the inventory for spring. It took me only a second to spot the perfect one.
It was a strapless, icy-blue silk dress that fell all the way to my ankles. The color was mystifying because it looked white or blue, depending on how exactly the light hit it. Empire cut, the bodice looked almost like a swimsuit top as the material flowed from the back, to over the breast, culminating in a bunching at the cleavage that released a flow of mild ruffles down the front. The effect was breathtaking and made the front of the gown appear layered, while the back still looked sleek and sexy. I cringed, knowing I had to have this dress, but also that it would probably cost a small fortune. I found the tag and slowly turned it over, keeping one eye closed as I looked. It was on sale for $299. My breath caught and I almost let out an audible scream. It was perfect!
The purchase of my dress changed the entire mood of my long drive home. Instead of thinking about Jake, I sang at the top of my lungs like Issy and just enjoyed every song I heard.
Parker called when I had two hours left, and we chatted the rest of the way. He was already back at his parents’ house and made me blush when he said that it was the first time in his life it felt a little empty because I wasn’t there. He told me that his parents adored me and couldn’t wait to have me come visit again. It made me feel so good that people as wonderful as Frank and Amy would enjoy my being there.
However, despite the wonderful conversation and the gold mine I found at the mall, my stomach knotted tighter and tighter as I got closer to my hometown.
I pulled into my driveway, feeling a sense of dread as I looked up at my childhood home. Everything about it screamed middle class, from the one story brick façade that matched every other house on the block, to the SUV parked in the driveway. I never minded that our family was average in every sense of the word, but I knew it always bothered my mom, and she had spent years and years trying to “keep up with the Jones.”
I took a deep breath before getting out of the car. The moment I hated most was about to come. My mom would give me a big hug, look me up and down and would do one of two things. She would either comment that I had lost weight or would not say anything at all and give me a sad look. It was like she had a weight radar. If she thought I had gained weight, she would quickly mention how she and my sister were exercising in the morning and that I should go with them.
I weighed this morning, just to prepare myself for what was coming. I was three pounds heavier than the last time I was at my parents’ house, which normally would have put me in a shame spiral right to the kitchen, but to my good fortune, Issy was still home, and I had managed to get out of the apartment without an episode.
I grabbed my suitcase and walked in the front door with a smile plastered on my face. “Happy” was really the only emotion allowed in this place.
My small cocker spaniel was the first to greet me at the door. She wagged her tail and waited for me to give her all the attention she was craving. My mom was next. She came in for a big hug and then held me back so she could check me out. I cringed as she stepped back making room for my dad, not saying a word.
My dad gave me his usual stiff hug and patted me on the back. He was relatively uncomfortable with affection and that was really all he could manage. It was no question whom I favored. I not only looked like my dad, but had so many of his personality traits that my mom would often joke that she was simply a vessel.
My dad took my bag and put it in my room. It still looked the same as it did in high school—cream-colored walls with purple curtains. My double bed had a purple comforter with soft cream flowers on it, and while it