The next Saturday, I was completely overwhelmed with wedding plans. Thomas was no help whatsoever. He was always caring for Elba (which I honestly don't mind one bit) or too confused with everything to help me. Oh well, he doesn't get any say in the cake!
I dashed down the street towards the boutique. As I approached it, the wedding dresses in the window glistened in the sun. The sight took my breath away.I began to imagine myself wearing on of them down the aisle, everyone's eyes on me, whispering things like "My! What a beautiful bride!" or "Thomas is such a lucky man!"
I came to the door and pulled it open. A bell chimed. A young woman looked up from behind the counter. "Hello!" she said.
I smiled. "Hello," I replied.
"What can I help you?"
"Uh... Yes, I need help figuring out which dress I should wear for my wedding."
The woman came out from behind the counter. She led me to a rack on the far side of the shop. "These look like they'll fit you," she said. "What are your measurments?"
I stared at her. "I don't know, actually."
She clucked her tongue. "Well then let's find out." She walked back to the counter and snatched up a fabric tape measure before motioning me over.
I left my post hestitantly. She began walking and met me halfway. I sighed as the woman moved the tape measure all over my body: my legs, my waist, my hips, my chest, my shoulders. Through the whole thing, she mouthed the numbers, filing them away mentally.
"Okay," she began, "I'll fetch some dresses for you."
I stayed still while waiting for her to return. When she appeared again, her arms were full of fluffy white fabric. "Follow me."
I scuttled after her. We walked down a hallway full of dressing rooms. We came to the end of the hall and she directed me into a small room.
"Strip!" she ordered.
I reached around my back to begin undoing the buttons on my dress. When I was done with that, I slipped the thin material off my body and was left in my underwear, exposed.
The woman helped me into the first dress. While she fastened it up, she made small talk.
"So, who's the lucky man?" she asked.
A smile graced my face. "Thomas. His name is Thomas."
"So you'll be...?"
"I'llbe Mrs. Andrews."
I heard her suck in a breath. "Thomas Andrews? As in the man who built the Titanic?"
I nodded slowly. "Yes..."
"Wow, how'd you manage that?"
"Well, uh... It just happened. We met and that was it."
She snorted. "Yes, okay. Andrews is curently under attack. Though I'm sure you knew that, considering you're his betrothed."
"What?" I panicked. Thomas... under attack?
"He's not the public's favorite right now. I mean, he abandoned his sinking ship! The thing he built was a piece of shit anyway."
I pulled away from the woman, disgusted. Now, you listen! Thomas built a wonderful ship! It isn't his fault it sank! He was overruled. He feels pretty damn awful about it already, so shut the hell up. Also, the only reason he left it was because of me. My best friend died that night, and made Thomas promise to take care of me! That's why he left it! You don't know a damn thing about what happened, so don't pretend you do! You're nothing more than an ignorant gossiper, more concerned about what to chat about next than the fifteen-hundered people that were killed when that ship went down!" I was flustered. I tore the white silk off of me and stepped back into my dress. I shoved past the woman, down the hall, and out the doors of the boutique. The audacity of that woman!
Anger burned inside me. I let out a groan as I stormed down the street, back home. My dress wasn't even buttoned; I held it on, clasped tightly in my hands. My brasiere was clearly visible. People stared at me in shock, as if to say, "Why in the hell is this woman running through town half-dressed?" I stared everyone in the eye as I passed them, daring them to piss me off further.
One woman opened her mout to speak, but I did first. "What do you want?!" I roared. She closed her mouth, looked down, and hurried away.
I contnued on my way, lost in thought.
Inside, I debated with myself. Should I tell Thomas about what happened? No doubt, he would want to know why I was so upset. But he would also probably scold me for making such a scene.
I walked up the walk towards our house and barreled through the doorway. Thomas heard the ruckus and stepped out of the living room. "Gracie? What's wrong?" he asked, concerned.
"That ignorant bitch!"
"Now, now," he calmed me, "there's no need for language."
"Yes, Thomas, there is a need for language! I was just at the bridal boutique, and there was a woman. She was an employee and helping me with the dresses and she started gossiping about you! She said Titanic was a piece of shit and that you were an awful person for leaving her and that everyone hates you!"
"So, I'm assuming that then you came back here."
I nodded.
"And, darling, you're half-dressed."
I looked down at myself, remembering that my dress wasn't fastened.
"I hope you didn't cause scene, Gracie. Here, let me help you with that."
Thomas walked over to me, turning me around so that he could button up my dress. I laughed, "Well, too late for that," I mumbled.
"What? You're saying that you did cause a scene?"
I blushed. "Maybe a little."
He sighed. "You do realize that now people will whisper about how Mrs. Andrews ran through the town half naked once?"
"And you do realize that I was defending your honor?"
"I can do that myself. But thank you anyway."
I turned around so that I was facing him. Thomas planted a kiss on my forhead. "Perhaps you should go take a nap, hmm?"
I smiled. "Fine, if it makes you happy. Oh, and where's Elizabath?"
"She's napping. Just like you're about to do." He pushed me up the stairs and laughed. "Go, go!"
I snorted in amusment and went to our bedroom. I kicked off my shoes and flopped down onto the bed, taking note of the plushness and comfort. Within minutes, I was asleep.
When I woke up, it was dark out. I inhaled deeply and stretched, staring around the room. Thomas sat in a chair across the room, reading.
"Hello," I said groggily.
He looked up from the book he was reading. "Good, you're awake." He smiled brightly at me.
"Yes, yes I am awake. That's a wonderful observation, Mr. Andrews," I joked.
"I wanted to wait for dinner until you woke, but Elba got a little fussy. I saved you something, though."
"Okay. What time is it?"
He glanced down at his wristwatch. "It's just about ten o'clock."
My jaw dropped. When I had left for the boutique, it had been around four. I hadn't been gone more than forty minutes, meaning I had slept for at least five hours. "Why'd you let me sleep that long?"
"Because you needed it," Thomas said calmly.
"Oh."
"Yes. Now, I think I'll be going to bed."
I stood up, going to prepare for bed. And, now that I thought about it, I was still tired. I walked over to the wardrobe and picked up a nightgown. I went to the bathroom and hastily put it on before going back to the bedroom. I slipped in between the blankets, going back to sleep. My thoughts revolved around wedding details, Elba, and Thomas as I drifted off. I smiled and felt sleep take me.