Lost Without You

by Rachael Johns

  Nik’s lips broke into a grin. He lifted his wet hand to her head and drew her lips to his. ‘It’s the right thing to do,’ he said when he finally broke their kiss.

  Paige

  Paige couldn’t contain her excitement as she and Solomon drove towards what was hopefully her wedding dress.

  In the few weeks since she’d posted the search for her mother’s dress she’d had numerous messages from strangers. Each time her heart had leapt in anticipation and then come crashing down a few moments later. She’d had messages from trolls telling her she was un-feminist getting married in this day and age. Lewd messages from men who couldn’t offer her a dress but would be happy to offer her something else. A couple of horrible messages saying they hoped her mum died before she found the dress—she couldn’t believe people could be so cruel. Messages from dressmakers telling her they could replicate the dress perfectly—for a hefty price. And messages from women who had wedding dresses for sale, never mind that they didn’t even bear the slightest resemblance to her mother’s.

  Until last night, she’d been all but ready to admit defeat and usually docile Solomon had been ready to hunt down some of the senders and slit their throats.

  ‘Relax. We’re almost there.’ Sol’s voice and his hand on her knee interrupted Paige’s thoughts. ‘But you jumping around in your seat isn’t going to get us there any faster and you’re distracting my driving.’

  ‘Sorry.’ Her heart thumping, she clutched her handbag to her chest and resisted the urge to dig out her phone and read Nik Mitreski’s message again. His wife wasn’t on Facebook but he’d seen the dress, shown it to her and said it was definitely the one she’d got married in two years ago. Nik sounded like a great guy and the message seemed one hundred per cent kosher but Sol had refused to let her go to the Mistreskis’ place on her own. And she was glad of his company.

  He removed his hand to switch on the radio and as the latest hit by Ed Sheeran filled the car, Paige tried to focus on it to calm her nerves. What if this was some sick joke? Or what if the dress was similar but not the one she was looking for?

  What if questions swirled around her head and she felt the beginnings of a headache coming on when Sol finally slowed the car.

  ‘I think this is it,’ he said as he parked on the verge out the front of an exposed-brick, art deco apartment building.

  Nik and Josie’s place was on the ground floor and she could hear music coming from inside one of the lower-level apartments.

  ‘I feel sick,’ Paige whispered as they approached the entrance.

  Sol squeezed her hand. ‘I have a good feeling about this.’

  Her stomach flipped and she wasn’t sure what kind of feeling she had. She took a deep breath and then pressed the button on the intercom for flat one of six.

  The music died within seconds and moments later a deep male voice came through the wall. ‘Hello?’

  Paige couldn’t speak so Sol leaned towards the intercom and announced themselves. ‘It’s Solomon and Paige, come about the dress.’

  ‘Cool. I’ll buzz you in.’

  The front door clicked and, as Paige and Sol stepped into the entrance hallway, a door off to the right peeled back to reveal a good-looking couple in their mid-thirties. He wore faded jeans and a long-sleeved Hurley tee and she had on a neon-pink oversized jumper that looked like a remnant from the eighties. Like Karis, this woman looked good in fashion left over from another era.

  ‘Hi,’ they said in unison.

  ‘Hi,’ Paige managed.

  The man, who had to be Nik, offered his hand. ‘Nice to meet you both.’

  She and Sol shook Nik’s hand respectively and then did the same with Josie’s.

  ‘Thank you so much for doing this,’ Paige said.

  ‘No worries,’ Josie said. ‘Lucky we don’t still live in Perth or it mightn’t have been so easy.’

  ‘What?’ Paige’s heart squeezed. ‘Is that where you got the dress?’ What if Josie’s dress just looked similar to her mother’s?

  Nik took the question. ‘No, I was in Sydney for work and saw it in an op shop window. I kinda bought it as a joke and used it to propose but …’

  Paige’s heart relaxed again.

  ‘It was love at first sight for me and that dress so although that’s not what Nik intended, I wore it for our actual wedding,’ Josie finished. ‘I have a bit of a thing for the eighties.’

  ‘A bit of a thing?’ Nik laughed and glanced down at his wife’s attire. In addition to the baggy jumper, she wore leopard-print leggings and her dark-chocolate hair was crimped and captured in a high side-ponytail with a bulky purple scrunchie. Paige vaguely remembered them from her own childhood. ‘That’s putting it mildly. I met Jose when she was singing in an eighties bar and I thought she was in costume until we started dating and—’

  ‘Anyway,’ Josie interrupted, ‘Paige and Solomon are here to see the dress.’ She stepped back and gestured inside.

  They walked straight into a living room that made Paige feel as if they’d stepped back in time. The décor reminded her of her grandparents’ place, which her mum often said was in desperate need of a modern makeover.

  ‘Wow, this is … cool.’ Sol glanced around at the framed posters of old singers and movie posters that lined the pink pastel walls. While Paige quite liked the posters, she wasn’t such a fan of the orange macramé owl hanging above the TV. The mantel along the top of an open fireplace held a number of framed photographs, but it was the poster of Top Gun and another of Airplane that impressed Sol. ‘I love those movies,’ he said.

  Nik grinned. ‘Me too. Jose and I are both movie buffs. Now can I get you guys a drink?’

  ‘Thanks, that’d be great,’ Sol said, but Paige didn’t want to waste time making small talk over cups of coffee.

  As if a mind reader, Josie said, ‘Paige is probably more interested in seeing the dress.’

  She nodded. ‘Yes, please.’

  Nik looked to Solomon. ‘Are you going to check out the dress too?’

  He shook his head. ‘I just came for …’

  ‘He came to make sure you guys weren’t serial killers,’ Paige said, filling in the blanks.

  They all laughed.

  ‘In that case.’ Nik clapped Sol on the shoulder. ‘Come this way and we’ll leave the women to do their thing.’

  While Nik led Sol into the small kitchen off the living room, Josie indicated for Paige to follow her down the short corridor. ‘The dress is in our bedroom.’

  ‘Thanks so much for agreeing to let me come see it,’ Paige said, feeling nervous and anxious.

  ‘It’s fine. I lost my mum a few years ago. She wasn’t there on my wedding day, so I understand your desire to do something special for yours.’

  Before Paige could offer sympathy about her mother, Josie pushed open the bedroom door and Paige’s gaze snapped to the bed where a beautiful white gown lay across the purple bedspread. Tears sprung to her eyes. It was even more beautiful in the flesh than in her mother’s photographs. She couldn’t believe she’d finally found it.

  ‘Is that it?’ Josie asked as the two of them stepped up close.

  ‘Yes,’ Paige whispered, reaching out to run her finger over the silk and lace to check it was actually real. Not only did it appear to be, but the silk was still luminous white and not one pearl bead was missing. It had obviously been cared for by its previous owners. ‘I’ve been looking for this dress for ages and … I can’t believe you got married in Perth and yet, it’s back here, in Sydney. And we don’t even live that far away.’

  Josie chuckled. ‘I think that’s called serendipity. Do you want to try it on?’

  ‘Hell yes.’

  Paige let her handbag fall to the floor and was already reaching down to remove her jumper when Josie said, ‘I’ll give you some privacy but call if you need help with the buttons.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  The moment the door shut behind the dress’s latest owner, Paige stripped right down t
o her knickers and bra. Then, she gently picked up the dress—it was heavier than it looked—and turned it over to reveal the gigantic bow at the back. With the greatest care, she undid what felt like hundreds of buttons above it and then held her breath as she lifted the dress, stepped into it and thread her arms through the short, puffy sleeves.

  This was the gown Mum wore to marry Dad.

  She smiled at the thought, but there was no way she could wrangle the tiny buttons on her own, so picking up the skirt to stop herself tripping over it, she crossed to the door and pulled it back a fraction.

  ‘Help required,’ she whispered to Josie who was standing there looking at something on her phone.

  She looked up and a smile broke on her face. ‘Wow. Look at you.’

  ‘I love it,’ Paige said, running her hands down the sides, relishing the sensation of lace and silk against her skin. ‘It’s not even on properly and I love it.’

  ‘It has that kind of effect.’ Josie grinned and then made shooing motions with her hands as she ushered Paige back into the bedroom. ‘Let’s do you up then.’

  Paige held still as Josie caged her into the dress, button by tiny button.

  ‘There. Done.’ Josie slowly turned her around so she was facing a full-length mirror in the corner.

  Wow. Her breath caught in her throat. She didn’t usually get worked up over clothes but this dress was beautiful and it meant something. She’d tried on what felt like hundreds of dresses in the past few weeks and none had come close to giving her the feeling of rightness that washed over her now.

  ‘You look beautiful,’ Josie said from behind. ‘Is your mother the emotional type? Because if so, I reckon you better have tissues on hand when you show her.’

  Paige let out a half laugh, still awed. ‘I would have said no, but since she got sick, she’s been crying at the drop of a hat.’

  Josie smiled sympathetically.

  ‘How much do you want for it?’ Paige was willing to pay pretty much any price after the lengths she’d gone to find the dress.

  ‘Oh, it’s not for sale. You can borrow it, but I want it back. That’s the deal.’

  The two women stood there for a moment like two soldiers preparing to battle.

  Paige already felt as if this dress belonged to her—it was her mother’s after all. For a fleeting moment, she contemplated yanking up the train and making a run for it, calling to Sol as she ran through the house, telling him to ready the getaway vehicle. But then she imagined the headlines: Artist Arrested For Stealing Wedding Dress—and realised how crazy her thoughts were. Besides, she only needed the dress for one day and she didn’t want to push her luck in case Josie refused to let her have it at all.

  ‘Okay. I understand. Do you want a hire fee?’

  ‘Of course not. I just want it back in the same condition it left in.’

  ‘I promise I’ll look after it as if it were my own.’

  Josie laughed and the tension that had been fleetingly in the room vanished. Still, Paige couldn’t quite bring herself to even think about taking the dress off just yet.

  ‘Tell me about your wedding?’ she said.

  ‘Well, you might have noticed I love the eighties. And, as Nik said, we met while I was singing in an eighties cover band, so when he found this dress, it seemed fitting we continue the theme to every area.’ A wistful smile came onto Josie’s face as she leaned back against her dresser. ‘We went the whole shebang—everything from the outfits to the food, the cars, the music and the table décor was eighties. My bridesmaids wore neon-pink off-the-shoulder gowns. We hired a local hall and decked it out in metallic balloons and neon-pink and orange streamers. At the tables, every guest got either a Rubik’s Cube or one of those mini Etch A Sketches. They were so sought-after people were fighting over them and stealing each other’s.’

  Paige laughed. ‘Why do you love the eighties so much? I mean … if you don’t mind me asking. It’s just you would have been really young during the actual eighties.’

  ‘No, not at all.’ Josie gave a dismissive wave. ‘It all started with a project in my first year of high school. For social studies, we had to do a presentation about a decade from the twentieth century and I got the eighties. As I loved drama, I decided to focus on the movies of the era. I watched all the Brat Pack films and fell in love with the music, the fashion, the hair. Everything was a statement piece in the eighties—the Sportsgirl t-shirts and bad hats of the nineties seemed so dull in comparison.’

  Paige nodded. She had to concede Josie had a point.

  ‘I think my mum was hoping my love of blue mascara, bright eyeshadow and neon nail polish would fade, but,’ she flashed Paige her bright orange nails, ‘it hasn’t yet. Dressing up, going all out … makes me feel good.’

  ‘I think you look great,’ Paige said, suddenly feeling like the paint-splattered jeans, oversized shirt, sneakers and sensible ponytail she always wore to keep her hair off her face were plain and boring. Her appearance had never been high on her list of priorities; she’d never seen her body as a canvas but preferred to create something she could look at. ‘I guess you had eighties music at the wedding as well then?’ she added.

  ‘Yep.’ Josie’s eyes lit up again. ‘We had an awesome DJ and we danced all night to The Go-Go’s, Madonna, Duran Duran … Oh, and did I mention the Pretty In Pink-themed cocktails. They were potent.’

  ‘Do you have any photos?’

  ‘Yes, our wedding album’s in the living room. I can show you if you like.’

  Paige nodded. ‘Please.’

  ‘Be right back.’

  Josie left and Paige contemplated taking off the dress and getting back into her normal clothes, but then she remembered the buttons, so spent a few more moments admiring herself in the mirror.

  ‘Here we are,’ Josie said, when she returned clutching an album to her chest a few minutes later. ‘Shall we sit?’ She gestured to the bed and Paige tried to navigate herself and the puffy gown onto the mattress.

  ‘Wait till you have to go to the toilet in it. I needed all three of my bridesmaids to help whenever I had to go to the loo.’

  Josie opened the album and, as she flicked through the pages, Paige oohed and ahhed over the vintage orange plastic chairs, the white and chrome tables, the lolly bar with eighties-era sweets and the amazing black cake with pink and orange splashes of colour. Until she’d seen it, she’d thought an eighties wedding sounded a little loud and tacky, but these images looked like a Pinterest photo shoot and everyone looked to be having so much fun. She could almost hear the music blaring from the pages.

  ‘Your wedding sounds so great, so memorable.’

  Again, Josie smiled. ‘It was. Best day of my life. What plans have you got for yours? Have you guys decided on a theme?’

  ‘No.’ Paige bit her lip, suddenly feeling a little overwhelmed. ‘Until today I’ve been so focused on finding the gown that I’ve let all the other things we should be organising slide. I hadn’t even thought about a theme. Do you think we need one?’

  ‘You don’t need one, but it makes your day personal and can also make decision-making easier. Do what we did and make it about your passions? What do you and Solomon love? What do you guys do?’

  ‘Well …’ Paige thought a moment. ‘I’m an artist—I love drawing, painting and creating just about anything but what I love most is sharing art with others. I’ve recently had my first picture book published and I also run classes at The Art House.’

  ‘Oh, is that that bright yellow place off Coogee Bay Road? I read an article in the local paper about how they offer free classes for homeless people and also children from refugee families.’

  ‘That’s the one.’ Paige couldn’t keep the pride out of her voice—the free classes had been her idea and she’d worked hard to get sponsorship from big companies so they could run them.

  ‘So, tell me about Solomon? What makes him tick?’

  ‘Well, like me, he’s passionate about human rights, but he also
loves classic cars, football, pretty much all food, and he’s a fireman.’

  Josie wolf-whistled. ‘Fireman. That explains a lot. Those muscles.’ She slapped her hand over her mouth. ‘Sorry. Totally inappropriate to be thinking those thoughts about your husband-to-be and even more inappropriate to actually say them.’

  She didn’t actually sound sorry and Paige didn’t actually care. She laughed—Sol did have very perve-worthy muscles and she liked people who didn’t censor every damn thing they said. ‘It’s fine. Your hubby’s not too harsh on the eye himself.’

  ‘Thanks.’ They shared a smile in mutual partner appreciation, then Josie said, ‘Where’s Solomon from? I mean, what’s his nationality?’

  ‘Both his parents are French actually. Their descendants were originally from Louisiana, but both families have been in France since the 1800s. His parents divorced but his mum remarried an American surgeon when he was in his teens and they emigrated to Australia for his stepdad’s work.’

  ‘Will you have any tributes to his culture at your wedding?’

  Paige blinked. The thought hadn’t even crossed her mind but maybe she should ask Lisette if she would like that. ‘I’m not sure. Maybe. Oh God, there’s so much to organise.’

  Josie laughed. ‘But it’s all fun. Did you also say you write picture books?’

  ‘Yes. And illustrate them. Well, actually I’ve only got one out so far but I’m working on another.’

  ‘Have you ever spoken to kids about your work?’

  ‘I’ve done a few story-time readings at local libraries.’

  ‘That’s cool, but I actually meant talking to students about the writing and illustrating process? I’m a teacher at Bronte High and my year nine English class are about to study picture books. It would be great if you could come in and they could hear from a real-life author.’

  As if Paige could say no after Josie had been so nice about the dress, and why would she want to anyway? She loved talking about her art and the opportunity to inspire a class of teens was just too wonderful to pass up. ‘I’d love that,’ she said.

  ‘Awesome.’ Josie grinned. ‘But now, back to the important stuff—your wedding.’