She’s not actually married yet, but Ray took a page from Hunter’s playbook. They figured out that while my mom and I are shy about boyfriends, we’re just fine with fiancés.
I told her she should schedule an appointment after mine and we could try on gowns back-to-back, but she didn’t want to. She said today should be just for me, and she’ll try on wedding dresses some other time.
“Hi,” the consultant says, approaching me with a big smile on her face. “I’m so sorry about that wait. My last appointment ran a little long.”
“Oh, no problem,” I assure her, turning away from the gown I’m looking at.
Mom stands and walks over to me, a hand resting casually on her rounded belly.
Another reason she doesn’t see any point in trying on gowns today.
She and Ray aren’t getting married until after my baby brother is born.
I resist the temptation to rub her belly and focus my attention on the bridal consultant.
“So, which one’s the bride?” she asks.
I raise my hand.
She clasps her hands together. “Perfect. I should have guessed—you’re glowing. But you both are,” she says, with a pleasant smile at my mom’s protruding tummy.
“This is my mom,” I tell her. “She’s here to help me pick out my dress.”
The consultant nods, then turns her bright gaze on the somber guard we have with us. “And is this Dad?”
“No. Um… my fiancé’s family is loaning me a piece of jewelry to wear for the wedding. They wanted me to be able to try it on with the dress, but… it’s quite valuable. It requires a guard. It can’t leave his sight.” I grimace. “Is that okay?”
Probably because this is an upscale salon with an illustrious clientele, she isn’t fazed by the news. “Of course, that’s perfectly fine. We only have to find a dress that pleases Mom, then? No one else is coming?”
“My bridesmaid and flower girl were supposed to meet us here. Unfortunately, the flower girl woke up with a fever today, so they had to stay home. It’s okay, though. I expect this to be an easy appointment. I’m pretty sure I already know what I want.”
“And I’m super easy,” Mom assures her. “Whatever Riley wants, I’ll love. No drama with us.”
“Oh, well, that’s perfect, then. You already have your eye on a certain dress?”
I nod, reaching into my purse and drawing out my cell phone so I can show it to her.
“Oh, that’s a lovely one,” she says, looking at it. “I can definitely pull that for you, but while I’m pulling dresses, maybe I could pull a couple more, just in case it doesn’t look how you’re picturing it? I’ve been doing this for a while, and you’d be surprised how often that happens.”
“Sure,” I say. “I have no problem with trying on more dresses, that’s just the one I have my eye on.”
“Perfect. So, this is the look you like? A-line ballgown?”
I nod. “That tends to be my favorite. If I don’t look like a princess in it, I’m wearing the wrong dress.”
The consultant smiles. “Totally understand.”
“I like sleeves, too, or if not sleeves, some kind of… something. I’m not a big fan of strapless.”
“Got it. And what’s your budget?”
“Her fiancé is loaded,” Mom butts in. “There’s no budget.”
“There isn’t, but I would prefer not to go over $5,000,” I tell her.
“Perfect. So, tell me a little bit about your wedding. When is it? Do you have a venue already? Do you have a theme? Color scheme?”
“I’m getting married in Italy. I don’t want the dress to be too heavy, because while the ceremony will take place inside a church, the reception will be outdoors at a beautiful Tuscan estate, so it’ll be pretty warm.”
She nods. “Got it.”
“For my color scheme, I’m doing pink and champagne. My flower girl is wearing a champagne dress with a little pink sash. My maid of honor,” I say, gesturing to my mom, “will be wearing a champagne-colored gown as well, and my bridesmaid’s dress is this sexy, pinkish champagne silk. We actually found her dress before mine,” I say with a smile.
“That sounds so pretty,” she enthuses.
I nod my agreement. “She’s a beautiful human, she would look pretty in a burlap sack, but yeah, the dress is great. Given the color scheme, I don’t want a blinding white wedding gown. Maybe ivory, but I’m open to blush tones, too. I’m pretty flexible. I just want to look really, really pretty. My groom is so handsome it’s stupid, so I want to be beautiful for him on our wedding day.”
“Oh, no,” she says, waving me off. “What are you talking about? You’re adorable.”
I wasn’t fishing for compliments or reassurances. I understand that it may have come off that way, so to more clearly illustrate my point, I pull up a picture of Hunter on my phone and show him to her.