Anchor - M. Mabie Page 0,41
was looking for. It wasn’t exactly ivory, but instead a light buttery ever-so-pale yellow. It was form-fitting with a little mermaid flare at the bottom.
“I love it, but what I love and what looks right on me, might be two different things,” I said insecurely. I went from not having a dress yet to praying the one we’d found, within only ten minutes of searching, would work.
I’d been having a good healthy streak of luck. There was no way it would be that easy.
“Try it on, sweetheart. Let’s see,” my mom said calmly. “There’s only one way to find out if it’s the one.”
I hated dressing rooms. They were always too small. The mirrors lied. There were never enough places to put all the shit you suddenly realized you were packing around like a mule. Regardless, my mom was right, I had to try it on.
I undressed and carefully folded my clothes, again totally not-typical behavior. I was nervous and stalling. I wanted it to look good. Better than good. After taking the plastic off and feeling the fabric, I really fell in love. It was smooth and flirty with a sweeping, open backline to match the deep cut in the front.
Slipping my bra off, I said a prayer to the wedding gods who I’d never spoken to before.
Please let this son of a bitch fit. Please let it fit. Please. Please. Please.
After a quick internal pep talk, I slid it over my head and it fell down my body. No resistance. No snags. No hang-ups.
I turned around to face the mirror again and there I stood: Casey’s bride. My hand cupped my mouth and immediately I began to cry.
I felt beautiful. I felt overwhelmed. I simply stood there—vanity damned—and pictured his expression when he saw me in that dress. It wasn’t until I heard Micah at the door that I snapped out it.
“What’s it look like? Did it fit? Show us, dammit.”
I pushed the door handle down and opened it, knowing she’d see my tears, but I was defenseless to make them stop.
“Oh, shit. Wow,” she said on an exhale, as she backed up giving me room to come out. I heard my mother talking to a sales lady and I walked to her voice. Something inside me wanted her to tell me it was perfect. I needed her acceptance.
She dropped the shoes she was holding and her hands clasped together in front of her heart. The look on her face was even more than I wanted. More than I needed. It was all the confirmation I could have ever dreamed of.
“Oh, Blake,” she mouthed silently. She walked slowly to me, her eyes glassy and her head tilted to the side. “Spin around.”
I did as she requested and my hands flew out to both sides as I turned one and a half times, stopping for her to get a good look at the back, before I faced her.
“That’s the first time you’ve ever looked like a bride.” It was like she knew those were the exact words I needed to hear. I looked at Micah and she was smiling so big her dimples could have held water.
After we examined it in every light, and I wore it with shoes, we bought it on the spot.
Sometimes you find the perfect thing unexpectedly right off the rack. And if life had taught me anything, it was that just because it came out of nowhere, with no effort, didn’t mean it wasn’t meant to be. Kind of like how I found Casey.
With dress shopping done so quickly, my mom and Micah decided we should do even more shopping since our retail mojo was working in our favor. I went with it.
We took a break for iced coffees and I checked my phone.
Casey: Your dad is a fucking hustler.
Casey: Why didn’t you warn me? I thought we were a team. He wiped my ass with the first nine holes and just made me look bad for fun on the second.
Casey: I hope you’re having fun. I think we’re all meeting at Cory and Micah's for dinner. I’ll let you apologize for the humiliation and shame I’ve been subjected to later. I think I’ll take a blow job. The start-to-finish kind.
I giggled and wondered if all couples talked to each other like that. Then decided I didn’t want to know. I liked thinking it was only us. I quickly sent him a message back.
Me: Hahaha. Sucker. Warren domination. I didn’t know we could use