Lost & Found

“Shut up, this is my wedding,” Emily smiled. She was absolutely determined to get excited about shopping for her dress. “Fine,” she relented. “I’ll be napping until we arrive at the first, then.” Kensington was happily pacified when she was promptly handed a glass of champagne upon their arrival. She took her seat as if it were a throne and declared to one and all that she, as the maid-of-honor, would need a shop assistant of her own if she were to be able to adequately fulfill her duties. Much to her delight, one look at the ring on Emily’s finger made a fantastic commission likely and the women working in the store tripped over themselves to cater to them. The first three dresses were lovely, simple, plain; they were rejected politely by Emily. The next three were equally lovely, just as traditional and Emily was struggling to be polite while Kensington asked for something a bit stronger than champagne if she was to be forced to view such blandness. After bringing out three more dresses from the guided tour only to have then rejected, Mary Beth, the lead saleswoman, explained that based on Emily’s description of the wedding that these dresses best fit that genre. “Oh bugger the description of the wedding, let me tell you about the bride!” Kensington declared, fueled by the single-malt Justine kept in the closet for reluctant fathers-of-the-bride and had smuggled to the opinionated pal. She went on to tell them about her best friend who appeared to be an angel but is truly the devil in disguise. The wild heart that beats within is what needs to be captured by the gown she wears. She is clever, creative and just begging to be set free! Find the dress that will allow her to feel all of these things and enough with the fairy tale bullshit. She is not a Disney Princess any more than she is the Queen of Flippin’ Sheba. There were tears in Emily’s eyes as she listened to her friend’s description and demands on her behalf. Kensington was one hundred percent correct, of course, but Emily doubted she ever would have said all of that herself. Mary Beth, Justine and Sera returned with a dress that immediately perked them both up. It was not traditional, that was for sure. One glance at it and Emily had a sneaking suspicion that Jason would hate it. Stepping out from behind the curtain and peering at herself in the huge mirror and she was absolutely certain. The tears in Kensington’s eyes matched the feeling stirring in Emily’s stomach. This was the dress. “Kens, quick, take a picture with my phone,” she said and was thrilled when she immediately pulled it from her purse. “If I lose my nerve and don’t buy this dress I just want to be able to remember how perfect it was.” “If you don’t buy that dress, Emily, I will resign not only as your maid-of-honor but also as your best friend!” Kensington fiddled with the phone until she got it right. “You were born to wear that dress; it was made only for you. In fact, it would be criminal for anyone else to wear it. Girls!” she addresses the sales team. “You must burn all other copies as well as the pattern. No one else can possibly do this dress justice!” Although they had no intention of doing as directed, they had to admit that Kensington had a point. Emily did bring the dress to life. It was nothing like what she had been trying on thus far, not by a long shot. The v-shaped halter flowed into a full skirt; it was decorated with beading and embroidery- that much was “wedding-ish.” The satin trim along an empire-waist and hemline both screamed “bride,” yes. However, the corset ties in the back, the short train and the fact that a pop of metallic, sage green within the layers of the skirt perfectly matched the satin trim set it apart. It was this inner-surprise, this demand for attention despite an innocuous outer shell that made it pure Emily. Justine pulled out the clips allowing Emily’s hair to fall in heavy waves all around her shoulders and just grace the edges of this dress. “No headpiece?” she asked hopefully. Emily was smiling for the camera and both she and Kensington shook their heads. No headpiece. Nothing to detract from the bold statement made with the vision of Emily in this gown. “Let me see the picture, Kens!” Her excitement was contagious. Emily’s eyes danced at first and then filled with tears as she looked at the digital image of herself on her Blackberry. “I love this dress,” she whispered. “You must have it,” Kensington affirmed with enough conviction for all of them. The sales team saw not only the beauty, but also dollar signs, and nodded enthusiastically. “This green, it’s gorgeous, it reminds me of…” Emily’s voice trailed off without finishing her thought. She looked as though she still had something more to say, however, but none of them prompted her to continue. A look of defeat took over her face. “Jason will hate it. He’ll hate that it’s not traditional, he’ll hate that I’m not wearing a veil, he’ll hate that it’s not pure white. He’ll hate it.” Tears were spilling over as she realized that her love for this gown was equal to Jason’s abhorrence. Still thinking of the Tiffany bracelet she was planning to buy with her commission, Mary Beth said, “Oh, no! No man could possibly look at you walking down the aisle in that dress and think about anything other than how lucky he is that you’re about to marry him!” Justine and Sera voiced their agreement with Sera adding, “You need a man’s opinion. Do you have a friend or a brother you can send that picture to? You’ll see we’re right.” Emily looked at Kensington, not really for permission, but maybe just for another vote before forwarding it to Robert. “Do you think they’re right, Kens?” “Emily, if you don’t buy that dress to be married in then buy it to be buried in because, frankly, I’ll kill you.” She laughed at her friend’s statement and turned back to the mirror to study her reflection. Emily was standing still but the woman in the mirror was dancing with such carefree abandon that she could not turn away. The reflection was only twenty-years-old. It had no cares, no worries, nothing but the confidence of youth and happiness to spare. She was so caught up in her own likeness that the chime of the phone startled her. “I think it’s safe to say that the clothes certainly make the woman, no?” Kensington asked the assembled women and lightly shook her glass to indicate the need for a refill. Justine was kind enough to respond post haste. “Is that Robert? What does he say?” she asked as Emily read the message. The smile on her face answered the question before she spoke the words, “He says that they should pay me to wear this dress and that I am absolutely stunning.” There were tears in all of their eyes now; all five women. All cried from a place of happiness, three of them thinking of their next paycheck and two of them simply in love with the mirror’s reflection. “Don’t tell me how much, I don’t want to think about it,” Emily commanded gently. “Kens, please give them my gold Visa- quick before I forget how good this feels.” She turned to smile at all of them. “I think I can start to get excited about my wedding now. I love this dress so much!” The room was suddenly filled with kinetic energy. Kensington handed the card to Mary Beth, Sera helped Emily change and Justine brought everyone a glass of champagne to celebrate. After a toast to her good fortune of finding the perfect dress in the first shop they visited, she gave voice to her fear, “Is it a mistake to buy a dress in the first shop I visit?” The three members of the sales team felt their payday slipping away and were about to allay her fears but Kensington beat them to the punch, “Don’t be foolish. When you know, you know. Trust your instincts, Emily. How did you feel when you put that dress on?” “Perfect,”