After twenty minutes of scanning the store, Bryant had picked two suites and convinced me to try on dresses I never would have thought about – let alone afford to – buying. I slid on a black dress with short puffy sleeves and stepped out of the small dressing room.
I stood in front of a long mirror, staring at my depressing appearance. An image of me standing over my mother's grave in the dismal dress flashed into my head, but became faded as I felt Bryant run a finger up my arm, his other hand resting on my shoulder.
"I never thought the first funeral I went to would by my mom's," I rested my head on his shoulder.
"You two were close, huh?" Bryant kissed the top of my head. He looked like a movie star ready to hit the red carpet in his black suit, white shirt, and matching black tie.
"I didn't have a lot of friends before I met you. I was too shy. My mom was all I had; she was my everything; my mom, my best friend, and all my relatives." I turned around and buried myself into Bryant's chest. Tears welled up in my eyes and he tightened his arms around me.
"You don't have to go."
"I know, but I have to say goodbye." I needed one last time to see her, even if she didn't have her smiling face. I needed the closure.
"Why don't you go and change into that other dress?"
I nodded my head and walked back to the dressing room.
When I re-emerged, Bryant was standing wide eyed by the mirror. I eyed him curiously.
"What?" My voice was heavy in sarcasm. I had never even thought about wearing a dress remotely close to this one before and I was nervous about my appearance.
"You look incredible." He smiled, making his eyes light up.
I stepped in front of the mirror, taking in the bright red dress. It had thin straps that reached around the back to tie in a bow and cut off at a flowing angle just above my knees.
"I can't pull this off," my voice was a tad louder than I had wanted it to be. This dress was made for models, not plain, boring girls like me.
"What are you talking about? You look beautiful." Bryant stood himself behind me again, snaking his hands around my waist.
"Are you kidding? I look horrible." We must have been looking at two different people. The girl I was looking at looked awkward, like a bear in a mouse suit.
"Ren," the way he shortened my name made it roll off his tongue. He pushed my hair over one shoulder and I felt his lips meet my jaw and make their way down to my collar bone.
"You really need to stop doing that," I whispered, my voice not functioning enough to speak any louder.
"Do you honestly want me to?"
"Not really."
A woman coughed as she walked into the dressing room and Bryant stood up strait.
"I'm buying it for you, whether you like it or not."
I rolled my eyes and went to change into normal clothes. I had forgotten how comfortable jeans could be. I hung the two dresses over my arm and walked to Bryant who stood by a long line of shoes. He held up a pair of red pumps with long leather straps.
"You're kidding me right?" I stared at the shoes that had a high chance of breaking my ankle.
"Just put them on."
I narrowed my eyes and snatched the shoes from his hand, trading him the dresses. He laughed and watched me struggle to wrap the long straps around my lower calf. How he had found shoes that matched the dress and fit my foot perfectly, I had no idea. But if Bryant was good at shopping, he could do it for me.
"There are you happy." I stretched my feet out in front of me then quickly reached down to take them off.
"Wait," Bryant grabbed my arm. "Stand up."
My eyes went wide in terror and surprise. "Is your goal to kill me by the end of today, or are you just finding new forms of cruel and unusual torture?"
Bryant broke into laughter. "Will you just stand up?"
I set my jaw and slowly rose off the bench I was sitting on. I wobbled a bit before finding my balance.
"There, are you happy?" I asked through gritted teeth.
"Come here." Bryant took a step back and held out his arms, too far for me to reach from where I was standing.
"You want me to walk now too?" I let out a hard, sharp laugh.
"Come on, it can't be that hard." His grin widened.
"You're not the one in the four inch pumps."
"Just a few steps."
I took a deep breath and lifted my right foot off the ground. I hadn't taken a full step before I started falling, but I didn't hit the hard wood floor. Instead, I landed softly in a pair of strong arms that had kept me from falling so many times in the course of a week.
"I guess I'll just have to hold you up the entire party," his tone was mocking.
"You just might." Bryant set me back on the bench so I could un-strap the shoes that could easily be the death of me.
If I had my choice, I'd wear sweatpants and sneakers. But that isn't exactly wedding attire and not the way I wanted to present myself to the rest of the Williams family.