I want to look casual but put together. Sophisticated but understated. There’s a lot I’m asking this outfit to do for me, and I can’t even find one to try.
But Becca has no trouble, appearing at my side with an arm full of choices. “You’ve foundnothing?” Her mouth parts and her eyebrows arch.
“Not a thing.”
“You’re being too picky then. It’s just to get a feel right now. We can go to other stores, there’s a mall full of them, but for now it’s about finding what you think will work best.”
“What’d you grab then?” I look at the rather large pile of clothes in her arms.
“A little bit of everything really. Come on, let’s go try this stuff on.”
On our way to the fitting room, she snags three more outfits, each of which I’d already looked at and not considered.
The first few things I try on are so atrocious on me that I don’t even leave the fitting room to show Becca. One hugs a little too tightly in the hips, while another shows off all thewrongcurves. Then there’s one that accentuates my mommy tummy.
The next outfit isn’t terrible, though not great so I opt to show her. It’s a pair of black pants with a light blue floral blouse. But the second I see her face twist in disgust I hightail it back to the dressing room.
All her choices and none of them turn out to be right. Instead of continuing to look, I’d rather just go home and change my RSVP to not attending.
As we leave the first store, she loops her arm through mine and pulls me into the mall. “Come on, it’s going to be fun. And we can get a pretzel when we’re done.” She knows how much I love the soft, doughy goodness of a cinnamon sugar pretzel.
“Nothing about it is fun. You know I hate shopping.”
“Yeah, but I don’t know why.”
“The most I get are a pair of new jeans or yoga pants or a t-shirt here and there. Every other time I’m shopping it’s for the kids. Or hell even for Trent.” I do a fair share of shopping for him as well.
“Don’t you think it’s time maybe that changed?”
“That’s my job as a wife and mother. Especially since I’m at home.”
“I mean…don’t you think it’s time maybe you started prioritizing yourself a little? Or at least treating yourself.”
“I treat myself when I need to.”
“Okay. But the shirt you’re wearing has a hole in it.” She points to a spot on my stomach where I know there’s a small hole.
I finger it gently. “This shirt looks good on me though.”
“It’d look better without the hole. You’re too hard on yourself. You’re in great shape for somebody who’s had three babies. We jog every week. That’s better than most.”
“Put me next to Linda Firelane, and I’m a cow.”
“Put anybody next to her. I mean, come on, that’s a pretty harsh comparison. She’s like a twig.” There’s a frustrated tone that comes with her words. I know she hates when I compare myself and she feels I should just let that go, but I can’t seem to find a way to. In any capacity.
“I’m just grouchy because I’m not looking forward to this.”
“Yeah, what’s that about anyway? Most people don’t have fond memories of high school but you’re letting it derail you completely.” She’s always been able to see straight through my bullshit.
“It just brings up a lot of bad memories. And the guy I dated after Trent might be there.”
“Oh you mean the one who still likes your photos and stuff? That weird guy?” She thinks David is weird for still liking my photos. And maybe it is odd since I’m clearly married to the man I dated both before and after him, the man I have three children with, the man I was never truly over. But he likes them all the same.
“The very one.”
“So, what if he is?”
“It’s just weird. Trent is always bothered by the fact that we dated. And just seeing him in general when the last thing he ever said to me is that he’ll always love me.”
