"You're sure you want that one, Elphaba?" Frex furrowed his brow at his daughter's taste in clothing.
"I like it," she said, smoothing the dark green fabric of the plain sleeveless dress. The most decoration was some variation on the front, a crisscross pattern. She looked in the mirror. "It's simple. No fuss and frills."
Frex sighed at the clearly lost cause. "All right, if you insist. Nessa?" He turned to his youngest. "Have you picked one?"
Nessa wheeled shyly up behind her father, a pink dress in her lap.
"Could I have this one?" she asked. Frex was often worried about his daughter's shyness, but didn't think much of it as she still had quite a few friends. Elphaba gently took the dress and held it up so she could see it all. It was a bit shorter than Elphaba's, but the pale pink looked light and blended perfectly with the mini jacket sewn on the top.
"Nessie, this is going to be beautiful on you!" Elphaba exclaimed, kneeling beside the wheelchair affectionately. "Do you want me to help you try it on?"
If she wants to try it on, she needs your help. Frex thought, ashamed of his paranoid fear for Nessa's complexion, crippling her forever. He took in every detail of the two girls, Elphaba so willingly helping her sister, Nessa bashfully protesting to the attention her sister paid to her. Don't worry. Frex finally decided. However strange, they couldn't be happier.