For the Love of Friends(11)

Caroline shuddered, tilting her already surgically upturned nose even further in the air. “Kleinfeld’s is so generic. And Caryn isn’t tasteless enough to want to be on that.”

“Of course,” Mia said quickly, deferring almost apologetically to Caroline’s judgment. “It would have been nice to spend a girls’ weekend in New York though. The bridal salons up there are just so much more chic.”

“We’ll talk her into it if she doesn’t find anything down here,” Olivia said. “I doubt any of us would object to a weekend getaway!”

I had less than nothing to contribute, and no money left in the budget for such a trip.

Eventually Caryn emerged in the next dress, which was skintight to the knee, where it flared into a sea of feathers.

Olivia started to cry, and I commiserated. Okay, I thought crying was a little extreme, but it was heinous. It looked like a swan had exploded at the bottom of her dress. “It’s just so perfect,” Olivia said, her eyes glistening as she dabbed at the corners to avoid smudging her makeup. I had never seen anyone pretty cry before. Ugly cry? Sure. But Olivia actually looked better when she cried. It wasn’t fair.

Wait, did she say it was perfect?

I looked around. The other girls were nodding in agreement, their faces cast from the same mold.

Caryn burst into laughter. “Lily, you have no poker face! At all!”

They all turned to me and I tried desperately to arrange my face into something resembling theirs. Unfortunately, I still had my original nose and ability to move my forehead, so that wasn’t possible. I settled for trying to look like I didn’t hate it.

“You don’t like it?” Mia asked, incredulous.

“I—um—Caryn, do you like it?”

“You pinned one just like it,” Caroline said pointedly to Caryn before she could respond. “The Versace? Remember?”

Caryn studied herself in the three-way mirror and shook her head. “It’s beautiful. But the feathers are a little too much, I think.”

“Something a bit simpler?” the saleslady asked. Caryn nodded and retreated back into the dressing room.

“I tried on something similar for my wedding,” Caroline confided. “It was gorgeous of course, but I just didn’t have the curves to pull it off. You need more of an hourglass figure for a dress like that.”

“But not too curvy,” Mia said. “If you’re too hippy, white just isn’t your friend.”

“No,” Caroline said in an exaggerated whisper. “Caryn would really be better off in ivory. It’s more forgiving.”

Guess I’m not wearing white at my wedding, I thought, horrified. No one defended Caryn, but a stormy look crossed Dana’s face so quickly that I wondered if I had imagined it before it was replaced by an utterly bland expression. I took another swig of champagne. This was going to be a long day.

Caryn stepped out a few minutes later in a simple satin sheath. It was draped at the neckline to give the illusion of cleavage, which Caryn didn’t really have, and looked like something Zelda Fitzgerald would have worn before diving into a fountain. I adored it.

“Do you want something that plain?” Dana asked.

“It’s too basic,” Olivia announced.

“You look like you’re wearing a nightgown.”

“A little tacky.”

Caryn looked to me, and I bit the inside of my lip. I thought it was perfect. Put a long strand of pearls on her and one of those short veils that just skimmed the face, and I couldn’t imagine a more elegant wedding dress. But Caryn didn’t seem to be a fan, so I shook my head. The bridesmaids looked at me with the first hint of approval I had seen so far, which I realized had nothing to do with my reaction being tailored to Caryn’s. They only cared if I agreed with them. But I just wanted Caryn to feel good in her dress. And I had more of a poker face than she thought. “Too simple. I like the neckline though.”

Caryn smiled reflexively at my reflection in the mirror, then retreated to the dressing room again.

We left the store around noon and went to the second bridal salon, where we sipped more champagne and Caryn seemed to try on the same nine dresses.

“Don’t be discouraged,” Mia said. “No one finds their dress in the first store they go to.”

Dana nodded. “As long as you get it with seven months to go, you’ll be fine.”

“Seven months?” I asked. “Why seven months?”

“It takes that long to order a quality dress,” Olivia explained. “They’re made from scratch to order.”

“Oh.”

I suggested we break for lunch between shops two and three, but Caryn said we didn’t have time between appointments. Besides, they were all doing juice cleanses and not eating solid foods right now.

“They’re really wonderful for flushing the toxins out of your system,” Caroline said. “And it’ll help you take off those extra pounds in plenty of time for the wedding. I’ll send you the info for a weight-loss specific plan.”

I stared at her in absolute horror. What extra pounds? I wanted to ask. Were there days when I looked in the mirror and wished I could lose a few pounds? Of course. But I had never had a virtual stranger tell me that I needed to lose weight before.

I was too shocked to make a snappy comeback and instead mumbled something that sounded like “thanks” as I looked at the four bridesmaids and wondered again what exactly I was doing there. They didn’t even eat! It explained their size, but it did not reassure me that they were actually human. I tried to remember seeing Caryn eat anything normal. She usually had a smoothie in disgusting shades of green and orange at lunchtime. Definitely a lot of carrot and celery sticks. But I wasn’t sure I had ever seen her put a piece of office birthday cake into her mouth.