15. Shopping is Hard Work

Shopping is Hard Work

M ara

Bayview Village was home to the Bayview Mall, which was still referred to as the new mall even though it had been around for close to thirty years. For the longest time, the only shopping center in the area was the Milltown Mall in Milltown. It was to that mall we migrated as teens, and it was to that mall I used to take Willa when she was small because it had a tiny carousel that she loved. I had a lot of sentimental attachment to that mall. It was also situated right on the border of the city, so it was easy for me to drive there.

Bridgewater was home to privately owned boutiques, bridal stores, antique shops, art studios, dance studios, music academies, tailors, coffee shops, restaurants, and a small independent bookstore, but there was no mall. However, it nestled between Bayview Village and Milltown at the apex of the triangle created by the three towns, so we had good access to either of their malls. Bayview was the current crowd favorite.

Bayview had a great food court, the hallways were wide, and the ceiling was almost entirely glass giving the illusion of being out in the open air. There were easily double the number of stores than Milltown, and it had the cutest specialty and gift shops. For kids’ clothing Milltown had better options, but we weren’t shopping for Olivia today.

It had been a few days since my appointment, and I’d placed it firmly onto the back burner with a tight lid on it for the time being. I couldn’t do much until therapy started. I couldn’t tell Bex or Willa until I told Zale, and I was not ready to tell Zale. Besides, today was for fun, and I needed some fun in my life.

Bex was picking me up from my house and we planned to meet Willa at Bayview. I was not quite ready when she arrived, so Zale let her in. When I came out of my room, she was sitting on the couch with Olivia, who was sharing her collection of Harry Potter behind-the-scenes books. Seeing that sweet vignette set before me caused a slight pang as the unwelcome thought whispered that Bex would fit better with Zale and Olivia than I did, that Zale and Olivia deserved better than someone like me.

I silenced the voice and pushed the thought away as Rebecca looked up at my entrance. Her pretty, pixie face lit up.

“You look so good!” Bex exclaimed.

“Aw, thank you!” I beamed back at her. I was having a good hair day and even I felt I somewhat earned the compliment.

She twirled her finger, asking for a pirouette.

I smiled and twirled to give her the full effect. I had pulled out all the stops. Olivia was a tween, I hated that word, when did being a kid get swallowed up in becoming a teen? Whatever you want to call it, at twelve years old she required less supervision. I had time to do my hair, and I did, hair that had grown long and healthy. I loved the contrast of the shining silver curls bouncing amid the chocolate curls and had no intention of dying them away. I had time to do my makeup, makeup that I still had to order online. Even though Olivia could better tolerate the mall, it still wasn’t her favorite place, and she had no patience for things like the makeup store.

My makeup was beautiful that day, highlighting my eyes to look like amber molasses, illuminated by the sun. It had taken some serious blending to cover the dark circles under my eyes but there was no sign of my insomnia on my face that day .

I had on my slim-fit black pants, wedge-heeled ankle boots that were newly purchased one afternoon while Olivia was at the shelter, boots that made me feel like the Mara of old, and a turquoise knit boat-neck sweater that really liked my girls. I was wearing my silver locket that Zale bought me when Olivia was born and the tricolor silver and gold link bracelet from Zale, custom made by Bex. I had not taken it off since he gave it to me after I told him I was pregnant with Olivia. I loved it. I never tired of looking at it and it matched everything I wore.

Not that I was wearing much in the way of variety right then. I didn’t have the same body as before I had Olivia. I wasn’t sure I was ever going to have the same body again as my breasts had exploded and my hips were decidedly rounder, I really didn’t know how to dress this body even if I had the time and opportunity to hit the mall on a regular basis.

Truth be told, even when I was younger, I never really developed a personal style or knew how to dress my body. It was Bex’s styling savvy that got me in and out of the mall without looking like I was channeling my mother.

A sudden memory of my mother giving me her old clothes when I was a young teen, clothes that were always a tiny bit too small for me, came to me. Now, as the mother of a young teen, I could not fathom giving Olivia my castoffs, castoffs that didn’t even fit her properly, and sending her off to school in them .

I dismissed the memory. We were going dress shopping, most importantly for Bex, but also for Willa and me. I would have Bex’ styling savvy to guide me and Willa’s adoration to shield me from the evil of the mirrors. It was hard to be down on myself while basking in the warmth of Willa’s compliments and love.

Before we left, Zale asked to speak to me privately. I excused myself to Rebecca and followed him into our bedroom.

He gently closed the door and I turned to him, with concern that I knew was evident, in my eyes. Things were always tentative between us after one of my outbursts, though this one was milder by far than the ones we’d survived in our beginning. He would usually shut down and I’d be wary, watchful, trying to determine if my faith and trust were poorly placed. It usually took a few days to get us back on track, and it was usually him who got us there.

He took my hands in his, his beautiful mouth tilted upwards in a half smile, and twinkled his dark eyes at me.

“Are you wearing lipstick?”

Zale professed he didn’t like lipstick. I thought it was because he didn’t like the feel of it when he kissed me, which was why I rarely wore it.

“Just gloss. Why?” I had no idea what was going on here. Did he not like me getting dolled up to go out with the girls?

He leaned in, as if to tell me a secret. I leaned toward him, studying his eyes, curious and apprehensive in equal measure .

He smiled his half smile again. “You look fuckable.”

It took a moment for his words to register, but the moment they did I barked out a laugh.

He stood to his full height and grinned at me. Full smile, teeth and everything. So freaking gorgeous.

He moved the half step necessary to bring him right into my space, his hands cupping the sides of my face, tilting my lips up to meet his still smiling ones. His kiss was achingly sweet as he brushed his lips softly over mine. It was not quick, it was not hard, and by the time he finished I had his t-shirt fisted in my hands at his sides, holding myself utterly still under his sweet attention.

“Mara,” he muttered, his thumb stroking my cheek, his mouth a millimeter from mine, his deep, mellow voice sliding over my soul, “please have fun today. Buy whatever you want. If you guys hit the lingerie store for Rhys, don’t forget about me, okay?” He smiled again.

I smiled back, my lips still imprinted with the feel of his. I explained, “Well, it would be for Bex, not Rhys.”

He laughed, his big body shaking with it. “It’s for Rhys, believe me.” He drew me into his arms, “I love you, gorgeous.” Then he patted me on my ample ass and led the way back to Bex and Olivia.

Bex looked up as we came back in, took one look at me, and ducked her head with a big smile on her face. She stood up and winked at Zale, his eyes crinkled back at her .

“Right, dazed and confused,” she called to me. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

I mentally shook myself out of my Zale-induced euphoria, kissed Olivia, lifted my face to Zale for his quick, hard kiss, and left with Bex.

She tucked my hand firmly into the crook of her arm as we went down the path to the driveway. Filled with love for her, and happy to be going out with her to look for her wedding dress, hit by a sudden burst of uncontainable joy, I squeezed her arm, pulled her even closer, and threw back my head and laughed. She grinned back at me.

For the first few minutes of the drive, Bex was thoughtful, bordering on pensive.

“You okay, Bex?”

“I’m good, babe. Thinking about a few things I’ll bounce off you later. Want to sort it out a bit myself. But nothing to worry about. Honestly.”

She reached over and squeezed my knee and glanced at me with a smile. She leaned over and turned up the tunes which turned up the mood.

Willa was waiting at the food court, three coffees already on the table in front of her, when we got there. In the past few months, she seemed to have given up being late. I wondered about the change. Maybe she was less busy ?

Bex sat down, examined the sides of the coffee cups for her regular order and took a sip.

“Yum. See, this is why you’re my best bitch, Willa.”

“I aim to please.” Willa rolled her eyes and laughed.

“Mm. Your aim is true.”

“Thank you, Willa.” I smiled.

I leaned over and kissed my baby sister on her cheek. I loved her, and her growing up to be one of my best friends was a dream come true. Me being her go-to support person was a fulfilment of a life’s goal for me. We didn’t have much in the way of support from our mother, I was the best she could get. I often told her she was my guinea pig for Olivia.

“Right,” Willa began. She was a planner, and this was her planning voice. “Here is a list of the stores that sell the good stuff we’re looking for today.”

Willa pushed a piece of paper forward across the table toward us.

“Seeing as Bex doesn’t want a traditional type of dress, and we have to hoof it all over the mall to search for not one dress but three, I have listed the stores in order to cut down as best we can on the legwork, to conserve your energy Bex.” She handed Rebecca a pen. “Cross off any stores you don’t like. ”

“Wow, you’re really freaking prepared! I’m impressed!” I looked to Willa first to see her looking pleased by my compliment, then to Bex to see her looking pensive, again.

She looked up at Willa. “Rhys said something to me awhile back, that my company was worth the accommodations people would have to make for my fibromyalgia.” She tapped her finger on the paper. “You just proved his point. Thank you, Willa.”

I looked at Bex, surprised to see the sheen of tears in her eyes. “Are you crying?” I asked in amazement. Bex was usually not a crier.

She turned her shiny eyes my way. “No!”

I laughed and threw my arms around her shoulders, even as my own eyes filled. “You are! You goose!”

Willa rolled her eyes again and laughed. Only Olivia and I got the soppy stuff from Willa.

“Okay hormones, we’re going to stop crying, drink our coffees, and Rebecca soon-to-be Griffin you’re going to give us the run-down on your vision for your dress.”

Bex didn’t care what style we all wore, but requested we buy either white, grey, or black as she had a theme going for the photography. With the whole guest list being as short as it was, we would be in all the pictures, as if we were her wedding party, and she’d like it to be cohesive. I was good with buying black. It was slimming.

Some people don’t know this, but shopping was hard work. It was not just about finding things to try on, it was the mental gymnastics, for me anyway, required once I was standing in front of the mirror, to accept what I was seeing.

The reflection in the mirror never matched the mental image I carried of myself in my head. It was always a bit disconcerting to be faced with the fullness of my figure. It didn’t help that I couldn’t tell if I looked good, or if I was comfortable with how I looked, in something new.

Often I had to strip off the new outfit and put on my regular clothes, something I knew I was comfortable wearing, back on and study myself in the mirror, noting that I didn't look great in that either, before trying the new outfit again.

Then I compared the new outfit to the old one. If it was at least as good, it went into the possibilities pile. If it was not, it went to discards. So, I chose based on the comparison of what I already wore. I could not tell, objectively, if an outfit looked good enough on me, or even if it suited me.

I gave up a long time ago trying to find a style to project, now I just wanted something that fit well and flattered me somewhat. The entire process was exhausting, and I couldn’t do it on my own, so I rarely bought myself new clothes.

When shopping with Bex and my sister, I skipped most of that process .

I trusted Willa, entirely. If she didn’t like how something looked, she blamed it on the dress, the cut, the color, or the style, but she would never let me buy it.

Rebecca was much less tactful. She tried, God love her, but it was just not in her. I put one dress on, and she curled her lip, and said, “Ew, take it off. It’s awful.” I tried on another, and she crowed, “Bow Chicka Wow Wow!”

Between the two of them, I got something that made me feel like the beauty they swore up and down that I was.

“You think Zee will like it?”

“How did he like your get-up today?” Bex teased, turning to Willa. “He took her into their room for a private discussion before we left, and she returned ten minutes later looking dazed and well-kissed.”

Willa laughed. “Go, Zale!”

Yes, I thought to myself, if he liked me in what I wore to the mall, he was going to love this dress. We left it at the store to be steamed and packaged to pick up on our way out.

I was the first one of us to find something. I wondered later if that was by design because Willa and Rebecca knew how self-conscious I was about my body. I felt guilty that they took care of me like that. This shopping trip was supposed to be for Bex primarily. We hit a few more stores before Willa consulted her list.

“Are you ready for a break, Bex?” she asked .

“When’s it scheduled for?”

“Now.” Willa looked back down at her shopping itinerary. “Let’s grab some lunch and go over what you’ve tried so far.”

We were right next to Kelsey’s Roadhouse which was attached to the mall. Willa had mapped our route perfectly. We got a table for lunch and placed our orders, mine being a peppercorn crusted hamburger. Yum.

We went over the dresses Bex had tried and took note of what she liked about each, which gave us a better idea of her vision. Willa had not tried on much of anything yet, but she had an uncanny knack for choosing the exact right thing, right off the hanger, which is precisely what she did two stores later. She tried it on to be sure, and she was right.

As for Rebecca, she would soon be tired, and we hadn’t found ‘the one’ yet. There had been lots that looked good, but none that looked good and were comfortable and didn’t chafe her sensitive skin, skin that was becoming more sensitive with each new dress she pulled on and off her body.

Stopping for lunch and sitting for a while helped, but we were nearing the end of her tolerance. Willa asked her if she wanted to extend the lunch break or do the next two stores. She chose to do the next two stores, but it was in the first where we hit gold.

She was drawn to the softest stretch lace bodysuit first. I watched her rub the soft fabric between her fingers, her face soft, beautiful as always. I hoped this was it for her. She pulled it off the rack to take a closer look.

I searched for the correct size and traded with her. Soft white, with long fitted sleeves, a deep V at the front with a deeper dip at the back, this was something that she could normally wear when she needed something dressy.

On the next rack, the skirt, of palest smoke, hung slightly gathered from a wide grey satin waistband, and reached to the floor. There was a lace overlay made to go with both the skirt and the bodysuit, the lace perfectly matched to the bodysuit.

In the dressing room, Rebecca slipped into the bodysuit and the skirt. She came out for help with the overlay. Seed pearls sewn along the neckline and wrists caught the light as she moved.

Willa and I were quiet, caught up in her moment with her. The lace overlay consisted of two panels of lace hanging from a thinner grey satin band that blended perfectly with the wider band of the skirt. I carefully placed the thin band of the overlay over the wide band of the skirt, and wrapped the satin ties around Rebecca’s slim waist, securing them with a bow at her back, the ends of which trailed to the edge of the lace that hit the floor. It was stunning. She was glowing.

I went back to the dressing room couch to Willa, where we sat enthralled by the picture Rebecca made, the wonder she radiated .

I pictured her in my mind so many years before when we found the dress she wore for Jack, pictured her standing at the altar with my dear friend, pictured her as we watched him slip away, pictured her lost in the years since, and saw her before me now. Healthy, happy, whole.

“Rebecca.” I heard Willa whisper beside me, but I couldn’t look at her, so focused as I was on Bex.

Rebecca looked up, her smile soft. “I never dreamed I could have this again.”

My tears fell on my tightly folded hands in my lap.

She walked toward me, leaned down to meet my eyes, and smiled into them. “So, is this it, crybaby?”

I snorted and wiped my face. I choked out, “That’s an affirmative.”

Willa stood, touching Bex on her shoulder. “You’re perfect, Rebecca.” She then dipped out of the dressing room.

Willa didn’t do emotion in front of others. By the time we caught up to her, she had herself together and was waiting for us just outside the store. She gave Bex a big smile and a congratulatory hug. Willa found her dress in the next store, we hit the lingerie store after that, then collected our freshly steamed dresses to go home.

“Come on, hormones,” Bex called, mimicking Willa from earlier. “It’s time for a drink. ”

Willa laughed, accepting the rebuke, tucked her hand in my arm, and we headed to Rhys and Rebecca’s for a much-deserved drink.

Later, much later, when we were all more than a little inebriated, when the twins were sleeping, it was time for us to get home. Rhys ordered, “Rebecca, don’t you dare sleep!” He drove Willa and me home in Rebecca’s car, getting both of us into the truck would have taken some doing considering the lack of sobriety. He walked Willa inside, and called Zale, chuckling, to give him a heads up that I might need a bit of assistance.

Zale was waiting for me at the front door, a huge grin spreading across his usually impassive face as he watched me teeter my way into the house. He stood in the doorway, then walked toward me, waving to Rhys as he drove off. I openly admired his long legs, his thick muscular thighs encased in his jeans, and that rolling walk I loved so much.

He drew my attention back to his gorgeous face, rough with the day’s stubble. “You have a good day, gorgeous?”

I sighed. “The best.”

He grasped my hand and pulled me gently into the house, looking down at me over his shoulder. “Did you get me something?”

I brightened. “I did!”

He crinkled his eyes at me. “You going to put it on so I can take it off?”

Happiness bubbled up inside me. “Yup! ”

I flew to the bathroom and slipped on the scraps of lace I’d bought for his pleasure, then met him in our room.

He took his time, but eventually he took it off, then got me off, in spectacular fashion.

Zale

He looked down at the form of his sleeping wife, her face relaxed, her breath even. She was happy today. He wished he had the key to keeping her that way. He pulled her up closer, tucking her face against his chest. She shifted against him, throwing her leg over his. He sighed and kissed her hair.

Never had he thought he could love like this. Love wasn’t a strong enough word for what he felt for her. He adored her. He had to stop getting up so early for work. It was cutting into his sleep, making him more tired at night, but if he didn’t put in a couple of hours in the morning before his shower, he was already behind the eight ball by the time he got into his office. Pay in the morning or pay at night. Neither was optimal.

He rolled into her softness.

He’d just have to catch up on his sleep on the weekends.