wouldn’t think so!” Novella exclaimed. “Not when you had us altering this here gown of yours all afternoon!” She picked up Stella’s dress by the shoulders and held it up proudly for Stella’s review.
Or, rather, she held up what was left of it, leaving a good portion of it behind on the table. When Stella had unpacked her rehearsal dinner dress from her suitcase, it had been a tasteful rayon jersey number with an above-the-knee hemline and a neckline low enough to be attention-getting without dipping into trampy.
Now, the dress had somehow been transformed into what appeared to be a sleeveless minidress with a crossover bodice that might have fit a seventeen-year-old cheerleader on a juice cleanse.
“Aaack!” Stella exclaimed.
“The ladies outdid themselves!” Irene crowed.
“What’s in this?” Shirlette repeated, slurring her words a bit and rattling the ice in her coffee cup.
“I keep telling her it’s what’s left of that punch Chrissy whipped up last night,” Irene said. “I didn’t think she ought to be drinking it, seeing as it’s a day old and who knows what kind of ingredients Chrissy put in there that ought to be kept cold, but you know no one has ever been able to tell Shirlette what to do.”
“Not since we were kids,” Novella agreed.
Shirlette burped.
Stella felt hysteria threaten to rise up inside her. “What. Have. You. Done. To my dress !”
Immediately, she regretted shouting. Not only did she try to save her foul tempers for when they might come in handy, say when it was time to deliver a convincing application of whup-ass to one of her parolees—as she liked to think of them—but elderly ladies probably never deserved to be upbraided. Luckily, Novella and Shirlette’s reaction to her show of temper appeared to be more boozy confusion than genuinely hurt feelings.
“Why, only what you told us,” Novella said. “You said it came from Marigene’s with two extra inches in the side seams. You said to take four inches off the hem and spice up the neckline!”
“I certainly did not,” Stella said, awful realization dawning. “I said all of that about my bridesmaid dress . Which is hanging in the closet . Where I told you to look for it.”
“Oh,” said Shirlette in a small voice after a moment had passed.
“It’s just, this was hanging from the door,” Novella added, looking at the skimpy garment she was holding. “Huh.”
“Yes, I had it hanging there because I planned to put it on tonight. Which I can no longer do since you two have turned a nice size-twelve dress into an outfit a size-six girl in her twenties might wear when she didn’t want to leave anything up to her date’s imagination.”
“Aw, now,” Irene clucked. “Enough of that.” She snatched the dress out of Novella’s hands and held it up to Stella, squinting. “You’re gonna look hot in this.”
“I’m not going to wear that!”
“Oh yes you are, young lady,” Irene said, swatting her firmly on the butt. “Now get on into that shower. You’re a mess, which I’m not going to ask you to explain, but I don’t think you’re going to want to come down to dinner with sticks in your hair and dirt under your nails.”
----
Five minutes before the rehearsal dinner was scheduled to begin, Stella took a final apprehensive look over her shoulder in the floor-to-ceiling mirror of her luxuriously appointed bathroom, where she’d been hiding out as the Green Hat Ladies and Irene fussed over Dotty and reassured her that everything was going to work out just fine before escorting her down to dinner.
“It’s just you out there, isn’t it?” she called.
“Yes, Stella,” Chrissy said. “I sent the rest of ’em on ahead. Now get your ass out here and show me the damage.”
Stella tottered apprehensively out of the room in the towering gold ankle-strap peep-toe pumps that she’d picked up on a lark when she and Dotty had gone shopping for bridal shoes. “These are sooooo
Or, rather, she held up what was left of it, leaving a good portion of it behind on the table. When Stella had unpacked her rehearsal dinner dress from her suitcase, it had been a tasteful rayon jersey number with an above-the-knee hemline and a neckline low enough to be attention-getting without dipping into trampy.
Now, the dress had somehow been transformed into what appeared to be a sleeveless minidress with a crossover bodice that might have fit a seventeen-year-old cheerleader on a juice cleanse.
“Aaack!” Stella exclaimed.
“The ladies outdid themselves!” Irene crowed.
“What’s in this?” Shirlette repeated, slurring her words a bit and rattling the ice in her coffee cup.
“I keep telling her it’s what’s left of that punch Chrissy whipped up last night,” Irene said. “I didn’t think she ought to be drinking it, seeing as it’s a day old and who knows what kind of ingredients Chrissy put in there that ought to be kept cold, but you know no one has ever been able to tell Shirlette what to do.”
“Not since we were kids,” Novella agreed.
Shirlette burped.
Stella felt hysteria threaten to rise up inside her. “What. Have. You. Done. To my dress !”
Immediately, she regretted shouting. Not only did she try to save her foul tempers for when they might come in handy, say when it was time to deliver a convincing application of whup-ass to one of her parolees—as she liked to think of them—but elderly ladies probably never deserved to be upbraided. Luckily, Novella and Shirlette’s reaction to her show of temper appeared to be more boozy confusion than genuinely hurt feelings.
“Why, only what you told us,” Novella said. “You said it came from Marigene’s with two extra inches in the side seams. You said to take four inches off the hem and spice up the neckline!”
“I certainly did not,” Stella said, awful realization dawning. “I said all of that about my bridesmaid dress . Which is hanging in the closet . Where I told you to look for it.”
“Oh,” said Shirlette in a small voice after a moment had passed.
“It’s just, this was hanging from the door,” Novella added, looking at the skimpy garment she was holding. “Huh.”
“Yes, I had it hanging there because I planned to put it on tonight. Which I can no longer do since you two have turned a nice size-twelve dress into an outfit a size-six girl in her twenties might wear when she didn’t want to leave anything up to her date’s imagination.”
“Aw, now,” Irene clucked. “Enough of that.” She snatched the dress out of Novella’s hands and held it up to Stella, squinting. “You’re gonna look hot in this.”
“I’m not going to wear that!”
“Oh yes you are, young lady,” Irene said, swatting her firmly on the butt. “Now get on into that shower. You’re a mess, which I’m not going to ask you to explain, but I don’t think you’re going to want to come down to dinner with sticks in your hair and dirt under your nails.”
----
Five minutes before the rehearsal dinner was scheduled to begin, Stella took a final apprehensive look over her shoulder in the floor-to-ceiling mirror of her luxuriously appointed bathroom, where she’d been hiding out as the Green Hat Ladies and Irene fussed over Dotty and reassured her that everything was going to work out just fine before escorting her down to dinner.
“It’s just you out there, isn’t it?” she called.
“Yes, Stella,” Chrissy said. “I sent the rest of ’em on ahead. Now get your ass out here and show me the damage.”
Stella tottered apprehensively out of the room in the towering gold ankle-strap peep-toe pumps that she’d picked up on a lark when she and Dotty had gone shopping for bridal shoes. “These are sooooo
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