And here I was, standing in front of my dress, ready to put it on for real.
There were no more fittings, no more sneaking into the office closet just so I could catch a glimpse of its organza layers and remember what they’d looked like while falling down around my body like beautiful sheets of snow.
This was all actually happening, and now, I just needed to realize I was deserving of it.
“So, are you ready to put it on?” my mom asked, reaching up to unhook the hanger from the top of the closet.
“Yes!” I nearly squeaked in excitement.
They both laughed as I dropped my robe, and I watched as they carefully unzipped the back.
“That’s not what you’re wearing underneath, is it?” Grace asked, her head doing a double take as she caught sight of me standing in my simple white satin underwear and matching strapless bra.
“Um . . . yes. Why?” I asked, now feeling self-conscious.
My hands moved to cover my stomach, but she batted them away.
“Oh, stop. I’m just commenting on the fact that it’s a little . . . well, underwhelming.” She smiled.
“And virginal,” my mom added with a laugh.
I looked down at what I had on and frowned. “It’s white and satin,” I answered with a huff. “I got it at the bridal salon!”
“Oh, honey. I knew this would happen. Hold on,” Grace said, raising a single finger in the air, issuing a virtual pause on our conversation.
I gazed over at my mother who still held the dress, midway through unzipping it, and she just shrugged. Obviously, she wasn’t in on this little adventure. Comments were her only contribution.
I turned to see Grace shuffling through her enormous suitcase, hunched over with her butt raised high in the air, as she dangled on one heel, trying to somehow be ladylike in her emerald-green dress. The view was quite hilarious.
“Aha! Found it,” she announced, pulling out a pink bag and shoving it in my direction.
“Pink. Should have known.” I rolled my eyes.
“Just the bag.” She laughed.
I opened it and found a mass of tissue paper surrounding delicate white lacy lingerie. I pulled it out, feeling my cheeks redden instantly, and I held it up for closer observation. “Is this a—”
“Thong? Yes, hon.”
I was fairly sure my gulp was audible. My eyes widened as Grace’s laughter filled the room. I looked to my mother, who was joining in on the fun as well.
“I might just have a heart attack right here, new heart be damned,” I muttered.
“Oh, sweetheart, it’s fine. Very tasteful.”
“Okay, but try not to look, Mom.”
Her face curled into a smirk as she made a valiant effort to contain the giggles. “Okay.”
I quickly changed, swapping my sensible satin boy shorts for the barely there lace thong Grace had bought me. When she had been with me a few weeks ago, I’d purchased a few things for the honeymoon but nothing too risqué and definitely nothing that went up my butt. Jude and I had been together for a while now, but I was still very much a newbie when it came to certain things—and apparently, dental-floss lingerie was something I could add to that list.
In addition to the new sexy panties, Grace had also purchased a new strapless bra for me.
I eyed it warily.
“It’s a push-up. Believe me, you’ll thank me later.”
“Will I still fit? I mean, I was fitted to my dress with this bra on,” I said, looking down at my regular non-push-up satin bra.
“Yes, the girls will fit, and they’ll look amazing.”
“The girls?” I asked, quickly turning to change.
“Yes, treat them with a little respect, Lailah. They’re the only two you get.”
I circled back around and watched her eyes bug as they zeroed in on my chest.
“Whoa. Tell Jude he can send my thank-you flowers anytime.”
I looked down and nearly gasped. “Are you sure this is decent? I mean, they’re nearly poking me in the eyes!”
The sound of my mother’s snickering filled the air.
“Oh, hush. They are not. You don’t have nearly enough down there to poke an eye out. Besides, by the time we get the dress on you, it will be just enough cleavage,” Grace commented.
“Just enough?”
“Yes. Church cleavage—not too much, not too little, just right.”
I rolled my eyes and maybe snorted just a bit. “Okay, Goldilocks.”
Moving across the room, careful to cover my backside around my mother, I stood in front of her as she held my dress and took a deep breath.
“Okay, let’s do this,” I said.
Our eyes met as she lowered it. I took Grace’s hand, and with one foot after another, I slowly stepped into the dress and watched as they lifted it up around me. The bodice came around my waist as they worked to pull the zipper up.
“Perfect,” my mother said. “It fits like a glove.”
They smoothed out the layers and then brought the beaded belt to adorn my waist. With an expert hand, Grace tightly tied it right at the small of my back, and I turned to see myself for the first time.