13. Clarissa

I sneezeinto my elbow for the fifth time in a row as I walk from my car to Rissa’s shop. Damn, my allergies. She found a place downtown that was perfect. The front is all glass, and her shop name is displayed in perfect cursive lettering.

Rissa’s Boutique.

Mannequins in the shop window are dressed in sequin and rhinestone gowns. Her placement is perfect as she’s centered between a custom jewelry store and a hair salon. I smile as I open the door to walk inside. There’s always a giddiness I feel on Rissa’s behalf for the success of her shop.

My phone chimes, and I pull up a text from my soon-to-be mother-in-law.

Mother-in-law: Hey, I just wanted to check in to see how you’re doing?

Me: Thank you. I’m good, everything is coming along. I’m about to go to the shop now. Rissa is doing our fitting.

Mother-in-law: You’re so lucky to have a friend design your gown. I resembled a shower loofah at my wedding.

I laugh because I’ve seen the wedding pictures, and she is not exaggerating. She was all frilly layers of fabric that completely took over her frame.

Me: You were still a beautiful bride.

Mother-in-law: So sweet. It’s a lie, but still sweet. Well, I don’t want to hold you up. Enjoy your day.

Me: Lol. You too, talk later.

I tuck my phone in my back pocket and walk into the shop.

“Rissa!” I call out. The shop is closed to the public since she’s doing a fitting for my bridal party. “Hey, y’all!” I shout when I see my cousins sitting in the back.

“Hey, cousin!” they reply in unison, and we laugh.

Only four of the eight could make it, and I walk up and give Becca, LaDi, DaDi, and Mia each a hug. I was disappointed at first, but since it’s the middle of the day, I understand. Rissa has a time scheduled later this week for final measurements for the missing bridesmaids.

“Y’all been waiting long?”

“Nah, we just got here,” Mia says.

A few minutes later, Rissa and her assistant Jonathan walk up from the back.

“Ladies, we’ve got wine!” he says. Jonathan is so cute. His hair is styled long and pressed with a slight curl at the ends. He has a full, thick beard with skin so dewy I ask him what his skin routine is every time I see him. He’s dressed in dark blue slacks and a button-up shirt with a metal mesh vest. It wouldn’t work on anyone but Jonathan. He could wear a trash bag and look like something from Fashion Week.

“Jonathan, skin,” I say with my head tilted. I’m thirty and still have the occasional pimple, which I find unacceptable. Please, hormones, recognize I’m grown. We are not in high school.

He comes up to me with a smile. “You staying hydrated, Ms. Clarissa?”

“Of course, I love H2O.” I laugh, and he bumps my shoulder.

“Lis, I love you, but he’s got genetics on his side. He barely has a consistent routine and not one blemish in sight,” Rissa says, coming up to give me a hug.

I knew that. It comes up every time, but I still ask. That chestnut brown complexion is beautiful. He should be preserved in a museum somewhere.

“I’ll take a mimosa,” Becca says, lifting a drink from the tray Jonathan wheeled in.

All the girls get up and grab a glass, and we talk for a few minutes. I sip on a mimosa, and my phone buzzes.

Tyson: Who is the absolute best person in the world?

Me: In general, I’d say myself, but Beyoncé ain’t at the bottom of the list, lol.

Tyson: Funny. But the correct answer is me

Me: Me? Isn’t that what I said?

“Who is she smiling at on the phone like that?” LaDi asks between sips.

“Girl, you know that’s Tyree’s bighead ass. He really got my cousin in love,” DaDi says with a fake crying tone. I look up from the phone with my forehead creased.

“Uh, this is not Tyree.”

“Who are you smiling at, then?”

Suddenly, the entire group is focused on me. Hands are on hips, and the space is so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Rissa places her glass down on the table and pulls me to the back by my elbow. “I want to show you this fabric I just got in.”

Once we’re in the back, she moves us out of sight and whispers lowly. “Is everything okay? With you and Tyree?”

“Of course, why?”

She lets out a breath. “You know I’m on whatever you’re on. So, I just want to be clear on if we need to cancel this fitting because you want to be on your runaway bride. Julia Roberts was amazing in that movie. I should rewatch that.”

“What?” I shake my head and laugh. My phone buzzes in my palm, but I focus on Rissa.

“You just really looked happy, that’s all. Let’s get back out there, though. I need to get all the final numbers so we can finish up the dresses.”

Rissa smiles at me before she’s out the door and moving back to the front. My phone chimes again, and I look at the screen.

Tyson: Lol. It’s me. I’m the best person.

Tyson: I found a spot so good. Can’t wait for you to try it.

Tyson: Where’d you go?

Me: Sorry, we’re doing the dress fittings today, but that sounds amazing. I can’t wait.

Tyson: Cool. I’m setting it up now. I already checked your calendar. I’ll update it once it’s booked.

Tyson has been great these past few weeks. He really took the task of finding the perfect menu to heart and has been relentless with his plans to “blow my mind,” as he says.

I press the phone to my chest and peek down the hall. From this angle, I can see Jonathan and the girls laughing as Rissa pulls out her measuring tape and he takes notes on a tablet. I clear my throat and walk back out.

“Leave me like five inches everywhere because six months is a long time and I like ribs,” my cousin says, and we all laugh.

“Girl, I got you. I’m leaving room for any last-minute adjustments.”

After all our measurements are taken, Jonathan goes to the back to upload the data and adjust the fabric for each style. We talk and laugh, and it’s one of the best days I’ve had in a while, besides the constant sneezing.

“Girl, you sure that’s allergies and not a cold?”

“Of course, I get them every season. I just need to go home and get my dehumidifier.”

Everyone shakes their head at me like I made it up. I know the difference between allergies and a cold. I’m good for some essential oils to make me feel better before I dip my toe down a medicine aisle, though. Not that medicines aren’t necessary in some instances, it’s just not my first choice. But the way my head is spinning, I might have to make that decision.

Since I’ve already taken off half a day, I decide to stop for some food on the way home.

“Siri, call Tyree.”

“Calling Tyree…”

“Hello.”

“Hey, babe, I just finished with the dress stuff and was thinking of getting something to eat. What do you have a taste for?” I press my nails into the steering wheel while I wait.

“Sorry, Clarissa, I’m not going to be done anytime soon. You go ahead, and I’ll get myself something when I’m done here.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, why don’t you call Tyson? He’s still getting settled, and I think he’s still at the hotel because his place isn’t ready yet.”

I pause and get over into the next lane. Tyson has been spending a lot of time at our place. I think Tyree feels bad since he’s still in the hotel. So, the idea of him having dinner with us is not new.

“Okay, I’ll see if he’s free.”

“Cool, I better get back. I’ve been added to a long email chain,” he groans, and I grimace. He’ll be wrapped up in whatever that email chain is about for hours, so I wish him luck because I know it’s going to be a long day for him. We said goodbye, and I pull up my log to call Tyson.

“Issa, what’s up?”

I smile and rest my head back on my seat.

“Hey, Tyree is swamped at work, and I’m about to get dinner. You interested?”

“Damn right, I am,” he says, and I laugh. I still haven’t gotten used to that accent.

“Why are you laughing? Don’t make fun of me,” he says in an exaggerated speech, and I laugh harder. I’ve mentioned his accent too many times, so he knows that’s why I’m laughing.

“This is actually perfect. I heard about this little Chinese spot that’s supposed to have the best dumplings, and I’ve been dying to see if it’s true.”

“Oh, you know I’m in!” You almost can’t disappoint me with Chinese food. I never grow tired of deep-fried dough stuffed with a mixture of meat and spices.

“Okay. I’ll swing by to pick you up, so you don’t have to take me back home after we eat.”

“So thoughtful.”

“I already told you I’m the best!” He laughs. We talk for a few more minutes about the dress and how everything is coming together. Between him and Rissa, I’m managing everything much better and not under nearly as much stress.