That summer by Sarah Dessen

Author:Sarah Dessen [Dessen, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Jeunesse
ISBN: 9780142401729
Published: 2004-05-10T07:00:00+00:00

The fitting that afternoon went the way they all had. I stood on a chair while Mrs. Bella Tungsten, seamstress, crawled around on the floor beneath me with a mouthful of pins, mumbling through her teeth to “Stand still, please.” She wore a measuring tape around her neck that she could brandish in a second, slapping it against my skin or around my waist with one flick of her wrist. This was the fourth and final fitting, and we all knew Mrs. Bella Tungsten a little better than we’d ever thought we would.

“I have never in all my life seen a child grow so fast.” That was Mrs. Bella, tape in hand, tugging at the hem of my dress. “It’s gonna have to be shorter on her than on the rest. That’s all I can say.”

“How much shorter?” My mother got up from the one good chair in Dillard’s fitting room and came over to inspect for herself. “Noticeably?”

Mrs. Bella tugged again, trying to make length where there wasn’t any to be found. “There’s nothing I can do. I can’t let the dress down.”

Ashley sighed loudly from the corner of the room, where one of Mrs. Bella’s assistants was unfurling her train, her arms full of white, silky fabric.

My mother shot Ashley a look and squatted down beside Mrs. Bella, staring at my hemline. “No one will be looking at the bottoms of the dresses, anyway. Right?” She didn’t sound so sure.

“Well,” Mrs. Bella said slowly, spitting out a few pins, “I suppose. You can hope for that, at least.”

Meanwhile I just stood there, arms crossed over my chest to hold the dress up, which was missing the zipper as well as the white ribbon edging and bow that Ashley had added to personalize the pattern. It was bad enough to be standing in Dillard’s with my mother and Mrs. Bella tugging on my hemline and staring at my ankles; but the employee lounge was in the next room, so people kept passing through, carrying brown bags or cups of coffee and stopping on their way. They all knew Ashley, fellow employee, and stopped to coo and make a fuss over her and her dress. They just stared at me, the giant on the chair, too tall for the pretty pink bridesmaid dress that would now make me look like I was expecting a flood, not falling gracefully across my ankles as originally planned. I just stared ahead at a clock over the water fountain and pretended I was someplace, anyplace, else.

“Okay, Heaven honey, drop your arms so I can check this bodice.” Mrs. Bella had been corrected several times about my name, to no avail. It was one detail too many to keep straight.

I dropped my arms and she slapped the tape across my chest, then pulled it around to the side. Her hands were dry and cold, and I felt goose bumps immediately spring up and spread, my snap reaction to any contact with Mrs. Bella. She was my mother’s age but already had that thick, musty smell of old women and old clothes.

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