The pesky sales girl is on a scent-selling mission. “Here. We have these great scent cards.” She takes the fragrance and sprays it onto a rectangular piece of cardstock and fans it out in front of her.
I try to walk away, but she’s shoving the fragrance card in my face. Reluctantly, I take it from her and start to stroll away.
But here it is.
In my hand.
I raise the card to my nose and savor the delicious fragrance.
It’s his damn cologne.
Turning around, I head back to the pesky sales girl and look at the black and gold bottle in her hand. The man wears Tom Ford.
“I’ll take a bottle of that,” I say, pulling my wallet out from my purse. Yes, my own personal Alexander Asher in a bottle.
“There you are!” Gwen pops up from beside me.
“What are you buying?” she asks, scanning the counter. “Oh, cologne for Gabriel. How sweet. Let me smell.” Gwen picks up the tester bottle and sprays it on her arm. She raises her wrist to her nose and takes in that heavenly scent that’s had me going wild all summer.
“This is divine. Smells like an old English gentleman’s club. Very heady. Very male.” Gwen has just described the man more than the fragrance.
“That will be two hundred and fifteen dollars,” the pesky salesgirl chirps.
My jaw falls to the floor. “For two ounces?” Of course Asher would have the most expensive cologne in the whole goddamn store.
“It’s one point seven ounces, but you can’t put a price on this kind of luxury.” Pesky beams.
I hand over my credit card and glance over at my mother.
“Don’t look at me. I just spent four hundred dollars on cashmere!” Gwen saunters off.
With my bottle of Alexander Asher, and mother who now smells like him, we make our way up to the women’s evening gown section.
The gowns are stunning. Row after row, there is one more beautiful than the other. I don’t know where to start, so Gwen grabs several and makes a room for me. I scan the price tags to make sure she’s not going overboard. The prices are fine, but the sizes are all wrong.
“Mom, these are too small,” I hold up the tag in my hand.
“No, Kathryn. Your clothes are too big.” Her eyes look me up and down. “You’ve lost a lot of weight. Trust me. They’ll fit.”
I roll my eyes and head into the dressing room. The first is a pale-pink A-line that—to my surprise—fits. Maybe I have lost weight. I don’t know how. I feel like all I do is eat with Malory.
I open the door to show Gwen the pink dress and she shakes her head in disapproval.
Next I try on a strapless plum satin number. It’s slimming and sophisticated. I love it! Opening the door, I look out for Gwen. “What do you think?” I beam.
Gwen tilts her head to the side and twists her mouth. “Not for you.”
“I like it!”
“Kat, it does nothing for you. It’s too boring. Try on the red one,” she directs.
Fine! I slam the dressing room door like I’m a fourteen-year-old. Gwen lets out a laugh. “You’ll never change!”
The red dress has a two-part neckline that I get my head stuck in twice before finally figuring it out. I’m so aggravated by the time I get it on properly; I automatically hate the dress no matter how it looks.
I open the door to Gwen standing in front of me, holding an ivory dress. “Try this on.”
“You haven’t even looked at the one I have on!” I huff.
“I hate it. Here.” She shoves the dress in my hand. “This is the one.”
I hold up the ivory dress. “I am not wearing white. It’s not my wedding day.”
“Put it on.” Gwen walks away. Flashbacks of my prom, formals, and even wedding dress shopping pop in my head. The woman is maddening to shop with.
And just like with my prom dress, formal, and wedding dress… she is right.
Damn her.
The gown is exquisite, worldly, and makes me look like a goddess. It is a Theia form-fitted number with a low, soft V neckline and spaghetti straps. The silk fabric clings to my body but hangs delicately as it swoons down my hips into an elegant cascade of delicate petals. The hemline drapes gracefully on the floor. I look like a goddess walking on a bed of floating white rose petals.
Ivory on ivory, it is the epitome of classic. I’m in love.
I open the door to allow Gwen to gloat, but she isn’t there.
“Mom?”
Picking up the bottom of the dress, I sneak barefoot out of the dressing room. Where did she go?
As I’m about to turn around back into the dressing room, I hear a familiar voice.
“He wanted to spend time together tonight, but I was already at the mall. I mean, he can’t ask me last minute to spend time with him. A girl needs to pamper!” She lets out a laugh.
Hiding behind a rack of clothing, I eavesdrop on the conversation.
“You have to see him. He’s gorgeous! And his body is to die for… Yeah, yeah… We run together… In the park… Yes, totally hot bod. It makes it all worth it.” She continues.
What is worth it? Who is she running with? And is she talking to herself? I slide down to the floor and squat low so she doesn’t see me. I have to get a glimpse.
Putting my hands on all fours, I crawl around the rack. Shirt sleeves and price tags are hitting me in the face as I peer around the side of the rack.
It’s her.
The lioness!
The girl from the park, who knows my husband and calls my son Jack, is on the phone and looking at a display of undergarments. Very sexy undergarments, I might add.
What’s her name? Beth, Brie, Baily… Shit!
“We are seeing each other Tuesday. I know, right?” She continues. “I have to find something killer to wear. We are going to…” She starts to walk away. I can’t hear. I crawl closer.
I’m about to round the corner when I’m interrupted by a pair of feet. I don’t know those feet. They are clad in black aerosols. Cowering down, I gaze up hesitantly. I’ve been caught by a salesgirl.
“Excuse me, miss. May I ask why you’re crawling on the ground in a thousand-dollar dress?”
A thousand dollars!
I slowly creep up to a standing position.
“I… um…” My mouth goes dry.
She crosses her arms and taps her foot. This day just can’t get any better.
“There you are!” Gwen emerges by my side, holding Jackson. “Oh, don’t you look beautiful!”
My scowling eyes meet hers. “A thousand dollars?”
“If you don’t like it, don’t get it,” Gwen suggests nonchalantly.
I turn to the sales girl. Her lips are set in a hard line and she’s raising an eyebrow. There is no use arguing, with either of them.
“I’ll take the dress,” I mumble beneath my breath.
The sales girl gives me a smug look. “I’ll ring you up.”
As she walks away, Gwen hands me a shoebox. “Here, these will go perfect!”
I look at the expensive high-end label on the box and shake my head. “I think we’ve done enough damage.”
“Try them on, Kathryn. Listen to your mother.” Gwen tries to shove the shoebox in my arms.
“No.” I shove it back.
“Kat…” She admonishes.
“No.” I push the box away again.
“Kat…”
“I said no!” I shout.
Gwen’s eyes widen in surprise.
“Is that Jack?” an excited voice calls from beyond the rack.
Are you fucking kidding me?
The lioness pops up her bubbly head and leans over to give Jackson a kiss.
Gwen looks at her and smiles. “A friend! Hello dear, I’m Kathryn’s mother. Gwendolyn. You can call me Gwen.” She holds out her hand.
“Hi, Gwen.” She shakes my mother’s hand. “I’m Becca.”
Becca!
The lioness who was just on the phone, talking about, who I presume is, MY husband, is kissing MY baby and shaking hands with MY mother, while I’m standing in a thousand-dollar dress I just dragged across the floor.
I grab the shoebox from my mother’s hands.