Bodice of Evidence by Nancy J. Parra Page A

“I’m doing a little pinning so that you get the proper effect.”
    In a minute Felicity stepped around the screen. She looked gorgeous in the pale pink tea-length gown with lace and a tulle princess skirt and a sweetheart neckline.
    â€œOh,” Mom said, and tilted her head to study Felicity as she walked to the mirrors and stood on the dais.
    Vidalia adjusted the skirt and waited a moment before asking. “What do you think?”
    â€œIt’s very pretty,” Felicity said.
    â€œIt makes you look like a princess,” I encouraged.
    â€œWhat do you like about it?” Vidalia asked my sister.
    â€œYou know, I kind of like the lace. It’s got a full skirt that isn’t so full that I have to move sideways through the doors.”
    â€œAnd that’s important,” Mom said. “She has to be able to walk down the aisle with her father.”
    We all giggled at the idea of the dress walking down the aisle first, then Felicity, then Dad. “It sort of looks more like a prom dress than a bridal gown, but it’s beautiful,” I said, and popped a grape into my mouth. I had sworn never to say anything negative about any dress my sister tried on. I was not going to be the one to ruin her perfect gown.
    â€œRemember, this is the first of three,” Vidalia said. “Mother taught me that you should show the bride options so that she can understand why you picked the dress you picked. This color is new and fresh and makes your skin look lovely.”
    â€œI do like it,” Felicity said, as she twisted and turned in the mirror, eyeing all angles. “But I don’t love it.”
    â€œLet’s get you out of it and then I want you to take a moment and have some water and relax. It’s important that you don’t rush from dress to dress. Okay?”
    â€œOkay,” Felicity said.
    â€œGood.” Vidalia followed her back to the screen.
    I got up and followed them, leaning against the wall. It was time to start asking questions. “How are you doing, Vidalia? This has to be difficult—working without your mother here.”
    â€œTruthfully, I’d much rather be working. I’m so glad you and your family came back. It really helps me.”
    â€œThis choice of dress was unique and lovely,” I said.
    â€œMost brides come in here looking for a strapless mermaid dress, but I believe that each bride needs to wear the dress created for her body and her personality. Not simply a sexy white gown.” She tugged the tulle and lace over Felicity’s head. My sister’s blond hair floated back down and rested perfectly around her shoulders. She wore a silk slip that did indeed skim her figure.
    â€œWow, that slip would make a nice dress,” I said.
    â€œI was afraid mom would have the same thought.” Felicity winked at me recalling our mother’s preference of satin slip dresses.
    â€œI did have that thought,” Mom said with a pout. “But I bit my tongue. You two have made it quite clear that a slip dress is not for you.”
    Vidalia hung the pink dress back on its hanger andfluffed all the little bits of lace and tulle back into place. “Your mother is right. A slip dress would be perfect for a bride of your height and weight,” Vidalia said, “but I’m thinking that you really want something more elegant and refined. Am I right?”
    Felicity’s eyes grew wide. “Yes,” she said. “How did you know?”
    â€œOh, my goodness, it’s simple, really. I can see your style in the cut of your hair, the clothes that you wore into the salon, and the type of diamond on your finger.” She pointed to the princess-cut rock on Felicity’s left hand. “I’ll take this out and hang it up. Please take a moment to get some water and have some fruit.”
    She walked out with the gown and closed the door behind her.
    â€œI kind of liked the pink,” I said,