March

Her wedding was in a month, though it still felt far away to Katie. Rupert’s family had taken over sending the invitations, booking the hotel and the church, catering, parking, various zoning laws, whatever needed to be done. All she had to do was buy a dress. Wedding dresses all seemed similar enough that she didn’t consider the details important, though she supposed she needed to be fitted. She really knew nothing about it, but she had friends who were excited. They wanted to take her shopping, and couldn’t believe she wasn’t more into it.

“Sometimes I wonder which one of us is getting married,” Sarah said through her crooked, pitying smile.

Katie waited patiently as her friends discussed with the tailor what she needed. They spoke of trains and trusses and she didn’t know what else. Words she’d heard in other contexts lost their meanings here. Now that she’d been measured so invasively, she didn’t know what else they needed from her. Tacit approval, no doubt, or just a body to hang things on. She felt like a doll at a sleepover, the only toy in an austere but affluent home.

“Is she going to wear her hair long, or short?”

“Crazy thought: what if she did pigtails?”

“She’s the bride, not the flower girl.”

They chose for her something modern, not at all innocent, a little bit punk. “Put your shoulders back. Try to look sexy.” As they goaded, she followed their instructions, doing whatever slight yoga they wanted. “Yes, you’re perfect, stay just like that.”

The mirror confirmed that she was beautiful, as did Rupert in his breathless, “I do.” She held her position, letting him kiss her.

“Now give up your career,” Sarah instructed, in their room in Cancun. “I can’t wait to have kids!”