dress?”
Bebe ignored her, rising to her feet with a relieved sigh. “That’s it,” she said to me. “Be careful of the pins when you take it off.”
“Hell-ooo,” said the girl, obviously exasperated. “Catgot your tongue? I know you can see me. You’re looking right at me.”
My heart sank to the level of my newly pinned hem.
Not another one.
I glanced at Bebe again, hoping against hope that the seamstress saw the dark-haired girl, too.
Bebe gave me a quizzical look. “You okay, hon? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Ghosts, spirits, phantoms, spooks—call them what you like, just don’t call them too loudly.
They might hear you.
Trust me. I know what I’m saying.
My life had changed in an instant a few months ago; one minute I’d been lying on the couch with what I thought was heartburn, the next minute I’d woken up in the hospital after being declared legally dead. In between I’d been to the Other Side—Heaven, Nirvana, or whatever it was. I thought of it simply as the “Light.” The incredibly beautiful, amazingly wonderful Light, where I’d known everything, seen everything, and understood everything.
Until I’d regained consciousness.
And unfortunately, I’d brought a little extra something back from the Light with me: lifetime instructions to “do unto others as I would have them do unto me,” and the ability to occasionally see and hear spirits.
And boy, did they wanna be heard.
“Yoo-hoo,” said the dark-haired girl sarcastically, waving her arms in the air. “What the hell is going on? I’ve been in here three times today and every time she’s acted like I’m invisible. If this is Debbie’s idea of a joke, it’s really getting old.”
I shook my head, numbly, but didn’t answer her. Instead, I spoke to Bebe. “Um, was someone else supposed to wear this dress?”
Bebe’s eyebrows rose. “Well, yes…I thought you knew. In fact,” she gestured vaguely toward the main counter, “when she was here for her fitting the other day, she left her cellphone in the dressing room. I don’t suppose you know how to get hold of her? The only number she left me was the cell.”
“Aha!” said the dark-haired girl. “So that’s where my cellphone is. And I told you it was my dress!”
Bebe was beginning to look vaguely uncomfortable. “Your cousin Debbie called me that same afternoon and said Michelle had pulled out of the wedding. She said you’d be coming by, and asked me to refit the dress for you.”
Great. Being a replacement bridesmaid made looking like a pineapple in public even more appealing.
Particularly when the girl I was replacing was dead.
And apparently, she didn’t even know it.
The dark-haired girl must’ve read something in my eyes, because hers went wide.
“What the hell is she talking about? I never pulled out of the wedding. I just talked to Debbie a couple of days ago, right before I—” She stopped, brow furrowing. “Right before I—” Her image wavered, began to fade. “Oh, shit,” was the last I heard, before she disappeared completely.
“You look a little pale, dear,” Bebe said, touching my arm. “Why don’t you sit down?”
“I just need to get out of this dress,” I said faintly, and let her steer me toward the dressing room. As soon as the curtain closed behind me, I buried my facein my hands, knowing Debbie’s upcoming wedding was going to be a wedding from hell, in more ways than one.
“How did I let myself get sucked into this?” I wailed into the phone. “I’m a replacement bridesmaid, and the dress is hideous! It makes me look like a giant fruit salad. With a hat.” I deliberately didn’t tell Evan that the bridesmaid I was replacing was dead. My best friend and business partner, Evan lived for fashion, and I knew it was easier for him to talk about that than my dubious “gift” of being able to see and talk to the dead.
“What did you expect, Nicki?” Evan wasn’t the least bit surprised about
Bebe ignored her, rising to her feet with a relieved sigh. “That’s it,” she said to me. “Be careful of the pins when you take it off.”
“Hell-ooo,” said the girl, obviously exasperated. “Catgot your tongue? I know you can see me. You’re looking right at me.”
My heart sank to the level of my newly pinned hem.
Not another one.
I glanced at Bebe again, hoping against hope that the seamstress saw the dark-haired girl, too.
Bebe gave me a quizzical look. “You okay, hon? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Ghosts, spirits, phantoms, spooks—call them what you like, just don’t call them too loudly.
They might hear you.
Trust me. I know what I’m saying.
My life had changed in an instant a few months ago; one minute I’d been lying on the couch with what I thought was heartburn, the next minute I’d woken up in the hospital after being declared legally dead. In between I’d been to the Other Side—Heaven, Nirvana, or whatever it was. I thought of it simply as the “Light.” The incredibly beautiful, amazingly wonderful Light, where I’d known everything, seen everything, and understood everything.
Until I’d regained consciousness.
And unfortunately, I’d brought a little extra something back from the Light with me: lifetime instructions to “do unto others as I would have them do unto me,” and the ability to occasionally see and hear spirits.
And boy, did they wanna be heard.
“Yoo-hoo,” said the dark-haired girl sarcastically, waving her arms in the air. “What the hell is going on? I’ve been in here three times today and every time she’s acted like I’m invisible. If this is Debbie’s idea of a joke, it’s really getting old.”
I shook my head, numbly, but didn’t answer her. Instead, I spoke to Bebe. “Um, was someone else supposed to wear this dress?”
Bebe’s eyebrows rose. “Well, yes…I thought you knew. In fact,” she gestured vaguely toward the main counter, “when she was here for her fitting the other day, she left her cellphone in the dressing room. I don’t suppose you know how to get hold of her? The only number she left me was the cell.”
“Aha!” said the dark-haired girl. “So that’s where my cellphone is. And I told you it was my dress!”
Bebe was beginning to look vaguely uncomfortable. “Your cousin Debbie called me that same afternoon and said Michelle had pulled out of the wedding. She said you’d be coming by, and asked me to refit the dress for you.”
Great. Being a replacement bridesmaid made looking like a pineapple in public even more appealing.
Particularly when the girl I was replacing was dead.
And apparently, she didn’t even know it.
The dark-haired girl must’ve read something in my eyes, because hers went wide.
“What the hell is she talking about? I never pulled out of the wedding. I just talked to Debbie a couple of days ago, right before I—” She stopped, brow furrowing. “Right before I—” Her image wavered, began to fade. “Oh, shit,” was the last I heard, before she disappeared completely.
“You look a little pale, dear,” Bebe said, touching my arm. “Why don’t you sit down?”
“I just need to get out of this dress,” I said faintly, and let her steer me toward the dressing room. As soon as the curtain closed behind me, I buried my facein my hands, knowing Debbie’s upcoming wedding was going to be a wedding from hell, in more ways than one.
“How did I let myself get sucked into this?” I wailed into the phone. “I’m a replacement bridesmaid, and the dress is hideous! It makes me look like a giant fruit salad. With a hat.” I deliberately didn’t tell Evan that the bridesmaid I was replacing was dead. My best friend and business partner, Evan lived for fashion, and I knew it was easier for him to talk about that than my dubious “gift” of being able to see and talk to the dead.
“What did you expect, Nicki?” Evan wasn’t the least bit surprised about
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