black dress with white stripes around the hem made me look like a lounge singer. The brown and gold thing made me look like a stripper. The pink one that came with matching gloves reminded me too much of a confirmation dress. There were two skintight dresses that looked like mermaid costumes, without the tails. I refused to touch Aunt Joan’s collection from the seventies. You looked at the dresses and you thought “bonfire.”
Ma unzipped a garment bag. “This one,” she said. “The color is right for you.”
She was right. It was a soft shade of dark green, the color of the leaves in the park when the sun is going down. The fabric was lightweight velvet. I stepped into it and held my breath as I worked it up over my thighs (should not have eaten ice cream for the last month) and my butt (too much pizza). It was tight, sexy tight.
“Turn around,” Ma said. “Let me zip you.”
I pushed all the air out of my lungs and pretended I had a twenty-three-inch waist.
Ma zipped. “Suck it in.”
“It is sucked in.”
She pulled the zipper up a little farther.
“Smush your ribs together.”
“What?”
She grunted and zipped me all the way up.
“It’s a little tight,” I squeaked.
“You’ll lose weight,” Ma said. “Turn around.”
“Ooooooooh,” said the aunts.
“This is definitely the one, honey,” Ma said.
I looked down. The dress fit like green velvet skin. I had a waist and hips and boobs, and it didn’t show the fat on the tops of my thighs that I hate more than anything, even my freckles.
“Ooooooooh,” said the aunts again.
Ma checked me out head to toe. “You might need a different date.”
“Why?” I asked.
“TJ Barnes is not good enough for that dress. You need George Clooney.”
“That’s sick. He’s older than Dad.”
“You know what I mean. Twirl around.”
I stepped over the shoe pile and— rii-iiii-iiip .
The aunts gasped.
“Oh, well,” Ma said. “Easy come, easy go.”
“Give it here,” Aunt Linny said. “I’ll fix it.”
Ma unzipped me and studied the tear. “It’s hopeless, Lynn. It’s not a seam, the fabric tore across her ass. Take a look.” She handed it to Aunt Linny, who sighed. The perfect green dress was dead.
Ma pointed to a pink bridesmaid’s dress. “That one has a stain, but we can get it out.”
I dragged the pink thing into the dining room and pulled it on. “I’m done after this, Ma.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. Show me the dress.”
I inhaled so I could pull the zipper to the top and stepped into the archway.
“You have a very unusual figure, know that?” Aunt Sharon said. “I never noticed that before.”
Aunt Linny squinted at me. “She’s built like her father’s family.”
“How many days till this prom again?” Aunt Joan asked.
“Six,” I said.
Aunt Sharon finished her doughnut. “You’re screwed, honey.”
87.
There was a knock on the front door. It opened and Nat stuck in her head. “Hey. You ready?”
“Natalia, come in!” Ma said. “You remember my sisters.”
Nat stepped in, her grandmother close behind. “Hello, everyone.”
The aunts said their hellos and nodded at Grandma.
“You look busy,” Nat said.
“We’re finding her a prom dress,” Aunt Joan said.
“Don’t laugh,” I warned.
“And shoes,” added Aunt Linny. “You got to have the right shoes.”
“I am not trying on other people’s shoes,” I said. “That is too nasty to think about.”
Nat eyed the shoe pile. “You got any fives in there?”
“Be my guest,” Aunt Joan said.
While Nat pawed through the shoes, Grandma squeezed between Ma and Aunt Linny on the couch. Grandma leaned over and stared at the rip Aunt Linny was trying to fix. She muttered, snagged the sewing out of Aunt Linny’s hands, and tore out the stitches with her teeth.
“Hey,” Aunt Linny said.
“Leave her alone,” said Ma. “It’s easier that way.”
Nat held up a pair of silver stilettos. “I like these. Is that the
Ma unzipped a garment bag. “This one,” she said. “The color is right for you.”
She was right. It was a soft shade of dark green, the color of the leaves in the park when the sun is going down. The fabric was lightweight velvet. I stepped into it and held my breath as I worked it up over my thighs (should not have eaten ice cream for the last month) and my butt (too much pizza). It was tight, sexy tight.
“Turn around,” Ma said. “Let me zip you.”
I pushed all the air out of my lungs and pretended I had a twenty-three-inch waist.
Ma zipped. “Suck it in.”
“It is sucked in.”
She pulled the zipper up a little farther.
“Smush your ribs together.”
“What?”
She grunted and zipped me all the way up.
“It’s a little tight,” I squeaked.
“You’ll lose weight,” Ma said. “Turn around.”
“Ooooooooh,” said the aunts.
“This is definitely the one, honey,” Ma said.
I looked down. The dress fit like green velvet skin. I had a waist and hips and boobs, and it didn’t show the fat on the tops of my thighs that I hate more than anything, even my freckles.
“Ooooooooh,” said the aunts again.
Ma checked me out head to toe. “You might need a different date.”
“Why?” I asked.
“TJ Barnes is not good enough for that dress. You need George Clooney.”
“That’s sick. He’s older than Dad.”
“You know what I mean. Twirl around.”
I stepped over the shoe pile and— rii-iiii-iiip .
The aunts gasped.
“Oh, well,” Ma said. “Easy come, easy go.”
“Give it here,” Aunt Linny said. “I’ll fix it.”
Ma unzipped me and studied the tear. “It’s hopeless, Lynn. It’s not a seam, the fabric tore across her ass. Take a look.” She handed it to Aunt Linny, who sighed. The perfect green dress was dead.
Ma pointed to a pink bridesmaid’s dress. “That one has a stain, but we can get it out.”
I dragged the pink thing into the dining room and pulled it on. “I’m done after this, Ma.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. Show me the dress.”
I inhaled so I could pull the zipper to the top and stepped into the archway.
“You have a very unusual figure, know that?” Aunt Sharon said. “I never noticed that before.”
Aunt Linny squinted at me. “She’s built like her father’s family.”
“How many days till this prom again?” Aunt Joan asked.
“Six,” I said.
Aunt Sharon finished her doughnut. “You’re screwed, honey.”
87.
There was a knock on the front door. It opened and Nat stuck in her head. “Hey. You ready?”
“Natalia, come in!” Ma said. “You remember my sisters.”
Nat stepped in, her grandmother close behind. “Hello, everyone.”
The aunts said their hellos and nodded at Grandma.
“You look busy,” Nat said.
“We’re finding her a prom dress,” Aunt Joan said.
“Don’t laugh,” I warned.
“And shoes,” added Aunt Linny. “You got to have the right shoes.”
“I am not trying on other people’s shoes,” I said. “That is too nasty to think about.”
Nat eyed the shoe pile. “You got any fives in there?”
“Be my guest,” Aunt Joan said.
While Nat pawed through the shoes, Grandma squeezed between Ma and Aunt Linny on the couch. Grandma leaned over and stared at the rip Aunt Linny was trying to fix. She muttered, snagged the sewing out of Aunt Linny’s hands, and tore out the stitches with her teeth.
“Hey,” Aunt Linny said.
“Leave her alone,” said Ma. “It’s easier that way.”
Nat held up a pair of silver stilettos. “I like these. Is that the
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