Something Borrowed - Emily Giffin [48]
But Darcy never got that feeling that you're supposed to get, that feeling where you are overcome with emotion and start weeping all over the dressing room. I finally targeted the problem. It was the same problem that Darcy has trying on bathing suits. She looked stunning in everything. The body-hugging sheaths showed off her slender hips and height. The big princess ball gowns emphasized her minuscule waist. The more dresses she tried on, the more confused we became. So finally, at the end of one long, weary Saturday, when we arrived at our last appointment, at Wearkstatt in Soho, I decided that this would be our final stop. The fresh-faced girl, who was not yet jaded by life and love, asked Darcy what she envisioned for her special day. Darcy shrugged helplessly and looked at me to answer.
"She's having a city wedding," I started.
"I just love Manhattan weddings."
"Right. And it's in early September. So we're counting on warm weather… And I think Darcy prefers simple gowns without too many frills."
"But not too boring," Darcy chimed in.
"Right. Nothing too plain-Jane," I said. God forbid.
The girl pressed a finger to her temple, scurried off, and returned with four virtually indistinguishable A-lines. And that's when I made a decision that I was going to pick one of the dresses to be the one. When Darcy tried on the second dress, a silk satin A-line in soft white with a dropped waist and beading on the bodice, I gasped. "Oh, Darcy. It's gorgeous on you," I said. (It was, of course.) "This is it!"
"Do you think?" Her voice quivered. "Are you sure?"
"I'm positive," I said. "You need to buy this one."
Moments later, we were placing an order for the dress, talking about fittings. Darcy and I had been friends forever, but I think it was the first time that I realized the influence I have over her. I picked her wedding dress, the most important garment that she will ever wear.
"So you won't mind running some errands with me today?" she asks me now. "The only thing I really want to accomplish is shoes. I need my shoes for the next fitting. I figure we'll look at Stuart Weitzman and then zip up to Barney's. You can come with me, can't you?"
I plow a forkful of my omelet through ketchup. "Sure… But I do have to go in to work today," I lie.
"You always have to work! I don't know who has it worse—you or Dex," she says. "He's been working on this big project lately. He's never home."
I keep my eyes down, searching my plate for the best remaining fry. "Really?" I say, thinking of the recent nights Dex and I have stayed at work late, talking on the phone. "That sucks."
"Tell me about it. He's never available to help with this wedding. It's really starting to piss me off."
After lunch and a lot more wedding conversation, we walk over to Madison, turning left toward Stuart Weitzman. As we enter the store, Darcy admires a dozen sandals, telling me that the cut of the shoes is perfect for her narrow, small-heeled feet. We finally make our way to the satin wedding shoes in the back. She scrutinizes each one, choosing four pairs to try on. I watch as she prances around the store, runway style, before settling on the pair with the highest heels. I almost ask her if she is sure they are comfortable, but stop myself. The sooner she makes a decision, the sooner I will be dismissed for the day.
But Darcy isn't finished with me. "While we're over here, can we go to Elizabeth Arden to look at lipsticks?" she asks as she pays for her shoes.
I reluctantly agree. We walk over to Fifth, while I tolerate her yammering about waterproof mascara and how I have to remind her to buy some for the wedding day because there was no way that she was going to make it through the ceremony without crying.
"Sure," I say. "I'll remind you."
I tell myself to view these tasks with an objective eye, as detached as a wedding coordinator who barely knows the bride, rather than the bride's