by Carmen, Roya
I looked really nice in that dress.
“You look like a princess,” Chloe tells her little sister. Claire, seemingly pleased with this observation, flashes her adorable toothless smile.
The dress seems so small. Would I still fit into it? No way. I’m almost thirty-five years old, and I’ve had two kids. But… I just need to know.
“Claire,” I venture softly. “Can you take the dress off?”
She shrugs, tiny brows furrowed. “But you said I could wear any of your dresses.” She’s not taking it off. “It’s my favorite,” she says with pursed lips. Even when she’s being difficult, she still manages to be adorable.
“Well, it’s my favorite too actually,” I tell her, stroking the chiffon between my fingers. “But it does look very nice on you.”
She ponders me for a second, and I can almost see her little mind working. She stares at me with those big brown eyes of hers—she’s so sweet. “Do you want to wear it?” she asks softly.
“You think I should. You think I could fit into it?”
“For sure,” she says with conviction. Well…she’s definitely more optimistic than I am because I’m pretty sure I won’t fit into that dress.
She wiggles out of it, and I quickly get out of my shabby sweats. I’m down to my undies and undo the side zipper.
“The moment of truth, girls…”
As I carefully slip the dress over my shoulders, I’m surprised. It falls to my knees and seems to still fit. But whether I can zip it up or not is the question. I make it three-quarters of the way there, and the dress fits more snugly than I remember…but it fits!
I kneel down as Chloe assists me in zipping it to the top. “It looks really nice on you,” she tells me as we study my reflection in the mirror.
It does.
I’m happy I still fit into my favorite dress. But on the other hand, I’m a little depressed. I’ll probably never get to wear it again. Let’s face it—my life is not exactly full of charity balls and glamorous events. Gabe and I don’t get out much—our idea of a date night is a hearty meal at the local family restaurant and a movie, or perhaps the occasional dinner with friends.
“Why do you look so sad,” Claire asks, a dash of concern in her sweet voice.
Because Mommy has no life.
I smile to reassure her. “I’m not sad, Claire. It’s just…I’m probably never going to wear this dress ever again.”
She looks at me like I have three heads. “You’re wearing it right now, silly.”
I laugh at her. She has a way of making me giggle, and right now, my life is wonderfully perfect—I have her and Chloe, and Gabe.
“You’re right, Claire,” I pipe up. “I am wearing it. We should do something special. We’re all dressed up.”
“How ’bout a tea party in my room?”
I smile. “Sounds wonderful.”
“So tell me, Mirella,” Claire starts. “How have you been?” she asks, her sweet voice laced with pomp and circumstance.
Her expression makes me laugh. “Why, I am just divine, Claire. Thank you for asking.”
I sit at the tiny yellow table in my vintage pink chiffon dress, nibbling on animal crackers and drinking iced tea. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to wear the dress somewhere—perhaps Gabe and I could go see a show—it could be a lot of fun. I should speak to him about it.
And there it is…that “defining moment” wrapped up cleverly into an “ordinary moment.”
What if we hadn’t been in that closet playing dress-up? What if Claire hadn’t picked out that dress? What if it hadn’t fit? What if…
Copyright © 2015 Roya Carmen. All rights reserved.