Winter White

by Jen Calonita

  “Geez, Brayden, get a backbone, already.”

  Izzie had almost forgotten Dylan was there. She was leaning against one of the archways between the living room and the study, watching them fight.

  “Are you going to let Mom make your every move till you’re thirty?” Dylan asked. “I thought you had finally become your own person, but look at you.” She gestured to him disgustedly. “Same old Brayden.”

  “And same old Dylan,” he fired back, sounding angrier than Izzie had ever seen him. “Ironic that they came home early from a charity event when they never miss a minute of one. What did you do? Tell them you were sick?”

  “Don’t blame this on me. I thought she’d be gone by now,” Dylan said. “Didn’t I teach you anything about sneaking around?”

  “Sneaking around?” Izzie repeated. Was Brayden trying to keep her hidden away so his mother didn’t know about them? She was feeling worse by the second.

  “All you do is cause trouble, Dylan!” Brayden yelled.

  “Hey, you’re the one who didn’t stand up for your girlfriend,” Dylan said calmly. “What’s wrong? Afraid mommy won’t approve of her because she’s too much like me?”

  “Shut up!” Brayden snapped. “Why are you here? No one wants you back in EC, certainly not Mom and Dad. Why can’t you just go to school and leave us all alone?”

  Izzie couldn’t believe how mean he was being. She looked at Dylan and tried to see her the way Brayden did. Her red dress, shorter than it probably should be for an event with the Townsends. Piercings, tattoos, and the rebellious look on her face. It was clear Dylan didn’t fit in with the Emerald Cove scene. Izzie didn’t look the part, either. She was exactly like Dylan, she realized. Was Brayden going to treat her like this someday, too?

  “You didn’t answer her question, Brayden,” Izzie said quietly, and they both stopped arguing and looked at her. “Is Dylan right? Are you embarrassed of me because I’m so much like Dylan? Is that why you won’t tell your mom about cotillion?”

  Brayden glared at his sister instead of Izzie. “You’re nothing like her.”

  “Yes, I am, and if you don’t see that, then maybe you don’t know me as well as I thought you did.” The hurt in her voice was undeniable.

  Brayden exhaled slowly. He wouldn’t look at her. “Maybe I don’t.”

  Dylan smiled at her sadly. This was her cue. Izzie was gone before Brayden even turned around.

  Fifteen

  “Um, Mira? I think your teeth are as white as they’re going to get.”

  At the sound of Izzie’s voice, Mira broke out of her trance. She had no idea how long she had been brushing while she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She had been staring at her face a lot lately to prepare for the Sup art contest, and what better place to do it than while brushing her teeth? She studied every laugh line, her less-than-full lashes, the shape of her eyes, the freckle on her left cheek—and yet she was still no closer to sketching. Maybe she should start bringing a pad and pencil to the bathroom. “Sorry,” she told Izzie, and discreetly spit out whatever was left of her toothpaste.

  Izzie ran a comb through her wavy hair, which had become unruly overnight. “What were you thinking about?”

  “Nothing,” Mira lied. “I’m just tired.”

  “Tired, huh?” Izzie teased. “Admit it.” Mira looked at her strangely. “You just like looking at yourself in the mirror.” She tapped the gilded gold mirror that extended over both sinks. “Maybe I’ll get you a new one for Christmas. You need the magic kind they have in Disney movies.” Her hazel eyes shone brightly in the bathroom light. “One that tells you how beautiful you are on command.”

  Mira threw her wet washcloth at Izzie, who tried to jump out of the way. “Gross!” Izzie complained, wiping her white collared shirt that was part of her school uniform. It now had a huge wet mark on it.

  Mira laughed. “Please. Gross is chewing on the ends of all your pencils.”

  “It’s called stress relief.”

  “It’s called a disgusting habit, just like biting your nails.”

  “Know-it-all.”

  “Grump.”

  Izzie picked up Mira’s expensive can of hair mousse like it was a locked and loaded pistol and aimed to spray it at her. Mira, in turn, ripped her towel off her head and held it like a shield. Neither girl heard the knock on the bathroom door.

  “Looks like I caught you both just in time!” Mira’s mom said chipperly, and both girls lowered their weapons. “Oh good. You’re both showered and semidressed already.” She pointed to Izzie’s uniform. “You’re not going to be needing that today.”

  “I’m not?” Izzie asked.

  Mira started to suspect something was up the minute she saw her mom’s outfit. She usually wore a dress to her Emerald Cove Greeters meetings on Wednesdays, but that morning she had on a pink button-down shirt and slim-fitting tan pants with heels.

  “No school,” Mira’s mom clarified. “Both of you get dressed in something casual yet classic.” She frowned. “Just no jean cutoffs. We leave in a half hour, so you better start packing.”

  “Where are we going?” Izzie and Mira said at the same time.

  Mira’s mom smiled. “We’re going to New York for Thanksgiving weekend.” Mira’s heartbeat jumped about fifty beats a minute. Her mom cocked her head slightly and smiled. “It’s about time we found you both cotillion dresses, don’t you think?”

  By late afternoon, they were on New York City’s famed Fifth Avenue, staring up at St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Every time a police siren blared or a cab honked, Mira felt Izzie shudder. She wasn’t sure if it had to do with Izzie taking her first plane ride or if it was about being someplace jam-packed and loud, but Izzie seemed out of her element.

  Mira, on the other hand, felt right at home. There was so much to see, she didn’t know where to look first. She was glad she had put her sketchpad and colored pencils in her pink quilted messenger bag. She was dying to pull them out, sit down on the cathedral’s steps, and people-watch and draw. She could draw the woman in the dark shades who had been on the phone for twenty minutes and ignoring her four-year-old son who kept picking up used gum and eating it. Or she could sketch the magnificent cathedral against the backdrop of the homeless guy pushing a broken shopping cart by a group of tourists.

  Mira’s mom had been to New York numerous times, which may have been why she barely looked twice at St. Patrick’s. Instead, she had her eye on her BlackBerry. “So we’ll split up for the next few hours while the boys hit FAO Schwarz and the Central Park Zoo and the girls and I go to their dress appointments.”

  Izzie’s eyes darted back and forth with each passing person, almost as if she anticipated being stampeded to death. “You need appointments to shop here?”

  “We do?” Connor panicked. “Did you call the LEGO store and make one?”

  “Where we’re going, we don’t need appointments, buddy,” Hayden explained. “While Izzie and Mira try on dozens of white dresses that probably look exactly the same, you and I will check out the LEGO store and the polar bears at the Central Park Zoo.” Izzie scowled. Mira had a feeling Izzie would rather have their itinerary.

  “The places we’re shopping are so exclusive that they only see customers who have appointments months in advance,” Mira’s mom explained to Izzie. She put on her oversize tan shades that made her fit right in with the rest of the women walking by. “We’re lucky Callista and your father were able to make some calls and have us squeezed in on such short notice.” She absentmindedly brushed lint off their dad’s jacket. “That was really nice of him, considering all he has going on right now, too.”

  “It was a good weekend to get away,” their dad said simply.

  Before they had left, Callista told them there was a new scandal brewing. Hayden had heard their parents talking on the plane, and Grayson Reynolds’s latest piece was the most damaging yet.

  Mira’s mom fished for the thank-you again. “Busy or not, this whole trip was you
r father’s idea. Wasn’t that nice?”

  Mira and Izzie side-eyed each other. Your father. Mira’s mom had started using the phrase to include Izzie now as if saying it enough would make it true. But if Mira didn’t think of their dad as a father, how could Izzie? Mira hadn’t had a single conversation with him since their blowup in the kitchen over a piece of pie a few weeks ago. She’d always wanted to see New York, and she couldn’t help being excited to be there, but thanking her dad for the bribery was hard to swallow.

  That’s why she was surprised to hear Izzie say it. “Thanks for the trip. I’ve always wondered what New York was like.” She eyed the group walking by with American Girl bags. “Grams always wanted to see it.”

  Their dad smiled. “I’m sorry Grams couldn’t come. What do you think of it so far?”

  “Well, it’s pretty big.” Izzie accidentally got knocked in the shoulder by a businessman walking by. “She would probably have found it overwhelming. I do.”

  “You do? I like it,” Mira said. Her friends at Emerald Prep all dressed the same out of uniform. Here, no two people looked alike. “I love the feeling that something is always going on. You could leave the hotel at three AM and I bet there would still be people walking down Fifth Avenue.”

  Izzie zipped her puffy coat higher. “I guess.”

  “We’ll never know, because none of you will be trying that experiment,” Mira’s mom said lightly.

  “You know, your mom found New York overwhelming at first, too,” their dad told Izzie. At the mention of Izzie’s mom, everyone got quiet. Izzie had told Mira about their dad coming to her swim meet and talking about Chloe. The conversation had seemed to upset her. Mira couldn’t imagine Izzie wanting to open up on that topic again so soon.

  “My mom didn’t love it here, either?” Izzie asked, wrapping her arms around her like armor. He shook his head. “Then why did she stay?”

  “She didn’t plan on staying forever,” their dad said. “But this city surprises you the way it is always changing.”

  “I don’t think I could live someplace like this even for a few months,” Izzie said, looking around. “There’s no grass, no trees.”

  “There’s a tree right there,” Mira pointed out. “And Central Park is full of trees.”

  “That’s a park,” Izzie reminded her. “Back home grass is everywhere.” She looked up at the tall buildings again. “It’s just so different here from North Carolina.”

  He nodded. “It is. Your mom’s heart was always down South, but she had a lot of great experiences in this city that I know she wouldn’t have traded for the world. I bet if you give this city a chance, you’ll like it, just like she grew to.”

  Izzie didn’t ask him anything else, but Mira thought she seemed calmer after that. The next time a taxi whizzed by, Izzie didn’t flinch.

  Mira’s mom glanced at her watch, then shifted the massive issue of Brides magazine from one arm to the other. It had at least two dozen folded pages with what Mira guessed were gown ideas. “We better go. You don’t want to be late to Heather Yang.” Heather Yang was a young bridal gown designer who dressed the hottest celebrity brides. Since wedding gowns were guaranteed to be white, or some shade close to it, debs usually went for them first.

  Mira’s mom kissed the boys good-bye while the girls walked to the street corner to avoid being swept up in the same good-bye ritual. They turned onto Fifty-First Street and waited patiently for Mira’s mom to lead them to Heather Yang’s flagship store.

  “Why were you being so nice to him back there?” Mira had to know.

  Izzie shot Mira an expression reserved just for her. “The man did fly us hundreds of miles to buy a dress.” She shifted slightly. “And I like hearing about my mom.”

  “You said you were mad at him for bringing her up before your race last week,” Mira noted.

  “I was, but the more I think about it, I don’t know….” Izzie stared at a small stretch of blue sky that peeked out above the buildings. “I like learning things I didn’t know about her, and he’s the only one who can tell me those stories.” She stared at Mira sadly. “There’s no one else left to do it.”

  Mira had never thought about it that way before. With Grams so far gone, their dad was Izzie’s last link to her mom.

  “Besides, it’s hard being mad at him all the time when he does nice things for us,” Izzie added, and Mira immediately started to protest. “I’m not abandoning you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m still mad at him. It’s just… at least he knows he screwed up, and he’s trying to fix things. Unlike other people.”

  Mira knew Izzie had had a fight with Brayden, but she was still too upset to tell her the details. All she knew was that Izzie had come home Sunday night in tears.

  “I think it’s great you can talk to him, but I can’t seem to do that myself.” She saw her mom walking toward them.

  Mira pushed her dad out of her mind and focused on Heather Yang. She couldn’t believe they were actually going to her flagship store! She expected the building to have a flashy sign and a whimsical bridal display in the window, but instead her mother rang the intercom next to a gray nondescript door with a tiny gold plaque that said H.Y. Maureen gave their name, the door opened, and a receptionist led them down a white hallway that could have been in any office building in the world. They even got on a dingy elevator for the ride up. She was a tad disappointed.

  But when the elevator opened on the third floor, it was a different world. There were huge, poufy wedding dresses with tulle skirts and long trains, modern dresses with hints of pink and lilac in their sashes, and dresses that were so simple they could have doubled as silk nightgowns. There was only one other girl and her mother in the showroom, and she was much older than Mira and Izzie, which meant she was there for an actual wedding dress. Mira resisted the urge to squeal.

  “Welcome to Heather Yang, Mrs. Monroe, Mirabelle, and Isabelle,” said a woman in a pale lavender dress. “My name is Lana, and I’ll be assisting you this afternoon. Can I get anyone a cappuccino before we begin?” They declined. Mira’s smile was ready to take over her entire face. “Okay, then. I’ve pulled some gowns to start us off based on the information you gave me. I’ll show you to the fitting room area.”

  Mira noticed her folder said the name Monroe on it. They had their own file! That’s when the reality finally hit her: No matter what else was going on, cotillion was still happening, she was making her debut, and she was going to wear a Cinderella-style gown to do it!

  “Girls, don’t feel pressured to pick something if you don’t absolutely adore it,” Mira’s mom whispered as they walked down the hall. “I’ve set up appointments at Vera Wang and Amsale in case you don’t see anything here.” Her phone rang, and she quietly answered it. “Hi, Callista. Hold on.” She put her hand over the phone. “Girls, I’ll meet you in the dressing room in two minutes. Try on something dazzling to show me!”

  Izzie touched a raw-silk gown with a hoop skirt. “This feels weird. Why do we have to shop at a wedding store when it’s not our wedding?”

  “Because the only other place you’re going to find this many white gowns is at a communion-dress shop.” Mira thumbed the organza on a simple fitted dress. “Do you really want to have the same dress as an eight-year-old?”

  Izzie read the price tag on the gown and gasped. “This dress is nine thousand dollars! Even if I was getting married, I wouldn’t wear a dress that cost this much.”

  Mira ripped the tag out of Izzie’s hand and stuffed it in the dress sleeve. “Mom knows how much these dresses are. She’s been saving for cotillion since I was two!”

  Izzie’s frown was getting larger. She started tapping her black Converse on the marble tile. “It’s just a dance, Mira. Not your wedding day.”

  She turned Izzie toward the dressing area. “For once, can you just have fun?”

  “Hmph,” Izzie mumbled, but ten minutes later, Mira could tell even she was getting into it, especially since Mira’s mom h
ad told Heather Yang’s people what kind of dresses to pull for her. While Mira’s gowns were perfect for a Gone with the Wind sequel, Izzie’s dresses resembled wispy nightgowns.

  Mira was only three dresses into the try-on session when she heard Izzie announce, “I found one.”

  “What?” Mira cried, squeezing out of her own fitting area in a strapless gown that cascaded in silk ruffles to the floor. “You’ve only tried on four dresses!” But as soon as she saw Izzie’s face, she knew there was no arguing.

  Izzie was standing on a pedestal in front of a three-way mirror, and her smile was practically glowing. The dress reminded Mira of something a Greek goddess would wear. The white one-shouldered gown was anchored by a petal corsage at the top. The dress suited Izzie’s tanned, toned upper arms, and the shirred, fitted bust area gave way to an empire waist. Like it or not, Izzie had found “the one.”

  “I only tried on three dresses,” Izzie corrected her. She stared at herself in the three-way mirror with satisfaction, then turned to Mira’s mom with what Mira could only describe as a shy, hopeful expression. “What do you think?”

  “I think you look stunning.” Mira’s mom sounded a little choked up. She walked around Izzie to see the dress from all sides. “I wouldn’t try on another gown, either. Wait till your escort sees this. Has anyone special asked you yet?”

  Izzie’s face fell. “I don’t have anyone official yet.” She glanced at Mira.

  “Well, any guy would be lucky to go with a girl as stunning as you, especially when you’re wearing this dress,” her mom said. “Don’t you agree, Mira?”

  “Yes,” Mira said with a sigh, slumping against her fitting room wall and feeling the uncomfortable boning in her dress. She had definitely not found “the one” yet, and what happened if she did but didn’t have an escort? Kellen hadn’t stepped up and asked her. He hadn’t even shown his face at an afternoon dance lesson even after all the hints she had dropped.