Here We Come (Aggie's Inheritance) (91 page)

Nothing
had
prepared
her
for
how
ridiculously
exhausting
it
would
be—not
to
mention
fun—to
try
on
dress
after
dress.
One
was
too
poofy,
the
next
too
straight.
The
fabric
looked
wrong
on
this
one
and
the
cut
weird
on
the
next.
A
tiny
pile
grew
next
to
Martha
as
potential
options,
but
in
her
heart,
Aggie
knew
she
wouldn’t
pick
any
of
them.

A
commotion
outside
the
dressing
area
sent
a
half-dressed
Aggie
rushing
to
her
mother’s
side.
“What’s
wrong?”

“This
girl
tried
to
jerk
that
one
out
of
my
hands!”

“You
can’t
wear
it!
It’s
too
small
for
you!”
the
young
woman
hissed.
“It’s
exactly
the
one
I’ve
been
looking
for!”

“Let
her
have
it,
Mom.
I
was
just
deciding
against
it
while
I
put
this
one
on.”

“How
can
people
be
so
rude
?
”
Martha
sighed
as
she
relinquished
the
dress
to
the
gloating
girl
before
them.

Tina
stepped
close
to
Martha,
almost
protectively.
“You
got
the
dress,
now
go.
It’s
pathetic
to
attack
an
older
woman
over
a
dress.”

“It’s
ok,
Tina.
Actually,
you
can
send
those
others
to
the
floor
again.
I
like
this
one
better
than
any
of
those,
so
we’ll
start
a
new
pile.”

Back
in
the
dressing
room,
Aggie
stared
at
the
dress.
The
spaghetti
straps
bothered
her.
She’d
always
avoided
the
look,
but
it
was
flattering.
Then
again,
it
did
have
a
wrap
with
it.
That
gave
her
an
idea
and
she
called
for
Tina.
“What
if
we
had
Libby
take
the
wrap
and
cut
it
into
kind
of
wider
gathered
straps
that
would cover
my
shoulders?”

“That’d
work…
maybe.”

“Well,
let’s
keep
this
in
the
pile
for
now.
I
think
we
should
hang
them
in
here.
I
don’t
want
Mom
hospitalized
over
a
dress.
The
headlines
wouldn’t
be
good
for
the
store’s
business
for
one
thing.”

After three more dresses arrived,
the
spaghetti
straps
were
sent
back
to
the
floor
and
Tina
arrived
with
even more
dresses.
“They
just
brought
out
four
huge
racks.
I’ll
be
back.”

Fifteen
minutes
later,
Aggie
stood
in
her
dress.
She
couldn’t
hook
the
back
together,
but
it
made
no
difference.
It
fit;
she
could
feel
it
even
while still
unfastened.
The
sleeves
weren’t
awkward
like
most
she’d
seen
and
the
fabric
was
the
heavy
satin
that
she’d
grown
to
love
in
the
past—she
glanced
at
her
phone—five
hours.
Her
heart
sank.
Had
she
really
been
there
for
five
hours?
Her
mother
was
probably
exhausted.
They
needed
to
go.

“Can
you
go
find
my
friend
please?”
she
begged
a passing attendant
.
I
need
this
fastened
and
then
I
think
we’ll
be
ready
to
go
after
that.
This
is
the
one;
I
can
tell.”