I was officially at a loss.
After work, I went to Ava’s house ready for a grand gesture. She wouldn’t let me in. I knocked on her door, stood next to her window trying to talk to her, and called repeatedly. Finally, she opened the door a crack and looked out.
There was a glimmer of hope in the two seconds before she spoke.
“Go away, Mason.”21AvaSunday could not have come fast enough that week. It was the one day of the week when The Hollow was closed and we all got the day off. Sometimes Mason still went in to handle paperwork or do repairs around the place, but the rest tended to steer clear.
Up until this week, when he went in on a Sunday, I was there, too. I liked being near him, even if that meant having to be at the bar when I could’ve been relaxing at home.
Sometimes I would help him, but we always ended up laughing and talking, stealing a couple of kisses. It was like we were teenagers again. Which was exactly why I needed something to keep me distracted that Sunday. There was no way I was going to be anywhere near that bar, especially if Mason was there. I wanted to keep the whole thing off my mind, which was why I accepted the invitation when Stephanie called to see if I wanted to get together to help her shop.
We drove to the local mall and talked about the upcoming wedding she was shopping for and she asked how my dad was doing. I told her he was coming along nicely but still had a ways to go. He was desperate to be able to drive again so he could get out of the house for a while. “So, speaking of cars,” she started, and I knew exactly where she was going. I decided not to give her the option.
“Yeah the classic car night went really, really well,” I said. “I’m already coming up with ideas for the next event. These theme nights have turned out to be even better than I thought they were going to be.”
Stephanie looked at me like she was considering whether to press the issue but decided not to. We pulled into the parking lot of a dress shop and went inside.
As soon as we stepped through the door, the owner rushed up to greet Stephanie. She was no stranger to the shop. It was where everybody in town went for special occasions.
After so long, I was surprised to see the same woman who helped me pick out my navy-blue sweetheart-neck sheath for senior prom was still behind the counter. She was creeping toward retirement age then. Apparently, she wasn’t willing to relinquish the reins on the world of sequins just yet.
“Stephanie!” she said. “Back so soon? You must have a lot of friends and family getting married. That’s certainly exciting.”
“Exciting and expensive,” Stephanie said. She glanced over at me. “You remember Ava, right?”
“Of course I do,” Missy said. “How have you been, sweetheart?”
“I’ve been well, thank you,” I said.
“It’s good to see you back in town,” Missy said. “You know, it was certainly a shock to find out you left. I was certain I’d be fitting you for your wedding dress soon.”
I cringed and looked over at Stephanie for help.
She took a subtle step to the side so she positioned herself slightly between Missy and me. “Well I need a new dress for another family wedding.”
The saleswoman led Stephanie toward the back of the shop, and I wandered after them, running my fingers across the rows of multicolored gowns and dresses hanging on racks. I couldn’t get myself into the excitement, shopping like this with Stephanie. I usually gave in to the pomp and frivolity of it all. But I couldn’t that day; I felt too distracted to really invest myself in it.
I sat in one of the overstuffed chairs positioned at the opening of a semicircle of mirrors near the dressing room and watched Stephanie parade back and forth in the dresses Missy picked for her, covering the gambit from elegant and demure to risqué edging on vulgar. I was a little shocked to see that particular option in Missy’s store, but I suppose she was moving with the times. After a while, it seemed like she was using Stephanie as her own personal Barbie doll, and they had lost sight of choosing the right wedding outfit.
Finally, Stephanie chose a dress that landed much closer on the spectrum to demure and elegant.
Dress in hand, we left the shop and headed for a cup of coffee. As soon as we sat down, Stephanie crossed her arms over her chest and looked at me questioningly.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “You’ve been so quiet all day. I can tell something’s bothering you.”