Grissom, one elbow still resting on the breakfast bar as he turned toward the door, grinned at the two women standing in front of him. "You promised, Sara. Go on."
"You know I hate you, right?" Sara countered. "Just want to be sure about that."
He smirked. "Yes dear, you hate me, I've got it all written down." Then, switching to his usual, more serious tone, he asked, "Are you sure you don't want me to take Galya? I can only imagine how much of a pain it'll be to dress shop while wearing a baby."
"No, it's ok. It's quality mother-daughter time, even if she'll never remember it. Besides, if she stays with you she probably won't get fed all day."
Before Grissom could protest this exaggeration, Catherine threw in her opinion. "And the most important reason: her godmom demands it. I don't get my fair share of her; you two are hoarding the baby." Turning back to Sara, she said, "Now c'mon, Sara. We've got to get there early or there's no point in going 'cause everything will be picked over."
Hiking the baby sling higher up on her chest, Sara groaned. "We're not going to be fighting throngs of eager dress-buyers, Cath. Today is no different from any other shopping day of the year."
With a grin, Catherine snagged Sara's ear in a motherlike gesture and, tugging on it gently, ordered, "Don't you smart me, young lady. Out, out." Throwing one last smile over her shoulder at Grissom, who was giving them a bemused look, she led a giggling Sara out of the house.
"Got the seat set up?" Sara asked, peering into the back window of Catherine's car.
"Of course! You know, I wish I knew why they didn't invent these baby seat anchors when Lindsey was born. I had to struggle to get my car seat attached right, and you young'uns just have to snap two pieces together."
Sara just snorted and shook her head, opening the door to settle Galina into the seat. "So are we really going to some fancy shop first? Why not look at the cheaper places before the more expensive places?"
"It's all part of my diabolical plot to get you in a dress that's actually beautiful, Sara. Beware the scheming blonde," she said in a breathy voice, wiggling her fingers in Sara's direction as though she were casting a spell.
A mocking "feh," was all Sara had to say to that. "So, what dress figures into said diabolical plot, and how much should I expect you to want me to shell out?"
"Sara, I didn't say that I was . . ."
Sara cocked an eyebrow. "Answer the question, Cath."
"Well, I don't exactly have a price range in mind, but I'm determined to see you in a Vera Wang. You'd just look so beautiful, Sara; you don't need anything frilly or flouncy, and the simplicity of her dresses is what makes them so beautiful."
"Uh-huh. Sounds like someone put some thought into this."
"Oh, bite me. You said you wanted to find 'the perfect dress,' and we're going to find it or die trying. So just sit back and enjoy the ride, kid."
Sara sighed deeply, but obeyed Catherine's order, watching the landscape for the rest of the 30-minute drive to Rosie's Bridal. "Oh man," she said, eyeing the assortment of gowns in the store's window. "We're never going to find something in only one day."
"Relax, Sara. You're working with an expert, remember?"
"Why should you be an expert, anyway," Sara whined. "You've only gotten married once, same as I'm gonna."
Catherine held open the store's door for Sara, who was still trying to settle the baby into the sling. They were immediately greeted by a saleswoman wearing a measuring tape around her neck, and Sara involuntarily flinched away from her.
"Relax, Sara. Trust me, they're better at this than that evil clerk at Macy's," Catherine muttered out of the side of her mouth, then turned to the woman and smiled. "Hi there."
"Hello!" the woman, whose nametag said, "Geena," replied brightly. "Can I help you guys today?"
Having finally managed to get the wiggling baby settled in, Sara looked up and nodded. "Yeah. I need to find a wedding dress." She held back a smile as Catherine, standing off to the side, nodded approvingly.
"Great!" Geena chirped. "Do you have any style or designer in mind?"
Sara held up a "wait a second" finger to the clerk and turned to Catherine. "Here, can you take the baby? I have a feeling I'm going to be poked, prodded, and undressed."
The trade was made, and she returned her attention to the saleswoman. "Sorry 'bout that. Ok, styles, styles . . hmm. Well I don't really have anything specific, but I don't really like frilly things. You know, not a lot of lace and bows."
"Fair enough. Let me get you started looking through some style books, then we can narrow the search down a little more." With a wave of her hand, she led the two women to a comfortable sitting area in the back of the store and handed Sara a book that reminded her of the hairstyle books she'd seen in salons.
"So I'm just supposed to pick what I want out of here?"
"No!" Catherine and Geena said at the same time. "No ma'am," Geena continued, "these books are just so you can see the different styles. See in places like this, we categorize wedding dresses based on a few main characteristics. Neckline is a big one – square neck, strapless, spaghetti strap, and so forth," she explained, pointing out an example from the book for each variety, "and so is skirt cut, which has varieties like A-line, princess cut, and sheath." She continued pointing to examples. "On top of those two styles, then, we can layer things like your 'no frills' request and the length of the train.
"Then when we've narrowed things down, say to a spaghetti strap dress with a princess skirt and no heavy lace and a chapel train, that's when I can start to bring out the dresses that fit your criteria. Does that make sense?"
"Gotcha," Sara nodded. "So, what do you think, Cath?"
"I think 'no frills' is a good plan. I also think you could pull off a strapless with absolutely no effort. Personally, I don't think you'd be comfortable in a slim skirt, but then, I can't really picture you in a puffy one either. And trust me, you're not going to deal with a huge train."
Sara grimaced. "Yeah, you're right about that. If I had a big train I'd just spend all my time tripping over it." She cocked her head to the side, thinking. "I think basically I want a simple style. No poofy skirt, like Catherine said, but strapless . . . I don't know. I'd be afraid it would fall off."
"Ah, Sara, give it a try," Catherine cajoled. "If it fits right, it won't fall off, and I'm telling you, you'd look so fantastic in one."
Hmm. Well, she supposed she'd check out the option. After all, if Cath said it would look good, it probably would. "Ok, ok. You win, Cat." She turned to Geena and smiled. "Ok, so I guess . . . not a princess skirt, and not a long train . . .and let's give strapless a try, but no promises – if I fend a better one with straps, I'll go with that one."
"Sounds good," said the saleswoman. "Let's get you set up in a dressing room."
