The Sunday after my birthday, I was headed back to Cali and the repair shop. Before I took off from the campground, I asked Judy, "So when do we want to do the dress shopping? When I get back to Mission City on Wednesday?"

"Heck no!" she cheerfully exclaimed. "We need to go to LA for something like that. Let's all go to California this weekend – us for the dress shopping and Sammy for the cake tasting."

She was my wedding dress fairy godmother, so I figured she got first whack at choosing the shops. "In that case, I think I'll hang out in Tranquility this week and just see you all when you get in on Friday night."

"Great," she enthused. "I'm clearing all of Saturday and you get to pick the start time, the end time, and the entourage."

"Entourage?" I echoed, slightly amused. "Other than Wheelie, I've never really had hangers-on."

"Yeah, but this is sometimes a friends and family thing," she said. "Your Gran would love to have a say in it and I bet Alison could keep us from being too stick-in-the-mud."

Actually, Alison might have a calming influence on Judy, but that wasn't why I was planning on letting her be the level-headed chaperone for Sam and Miles' sugar rush.

"I love that you're thinking about that kind of thing," I said, "but I'm going to be honest. I could bring Gran and Alison and even my cousin, but there's only one person whose input I really value and it's the lady who has a binder as her brainchild. You know what I like, you know what I need, and you're the one person I can trust to let me have the final word in all of that."

"Totally," Judy said.

"So I'm going to want your input and everyone else can look at pictures and ooh and aah," I concluded. "As for me, I can't look at a picture and feel special in it, so it's going to be a sanity-saver to be able to try on every dress from Arleta to Van Nuys."

Judy laughed, but I couldn't tell if she thought I was serious.

"How about ten?" I suggested. "We'll both be fueled up for the day and we can get to the shops just when they're opening. Break for lunch, pack some protein bars if we start to lose our drive, and make this the best shopping spree ever."

I could tell Judy was grinning at all the parts of that plan. "Your wish is my command, girlfriend."

Since RaFly was on Prime-protection duty, Judy's and my dress quest was going to be on my motorcycle with my faithful squire coming along as hopefully-not-needed muscle.

Considering what my future mother-in-law typically wore for a shopping day out, I saw a few potential problems and decided to kindly give her some advice. Best to give her a heads up before she planned her outfit tomorrow. Less stern than a "Here's what you need" and more of a "Let's make this easy on the both of us." At least, I hoped she'd see it that way as I dialed her number.

After the usual pleasantries, I said, "We're going to be going pretty fast and sometimes kicking up gravel on my motorcycle. I want you to be comfortable riding with me, so I hope you've got a good pair of closed-toed shoes and long pants. A rock in your shoe at walking speed is annoying, but imagine getting one at 30-55 mph and you'll know why I always wear boots."

"I'll be there with bells…and jeans on," Judy promised.

I didn't know if that meant she'd break out something like her Mary Janes or if she even owned something longer than capris, but if she couldn't find basic roadwear in her closet, I'd map out roads that wouldn't be as heavily-trafficked. It'd take a bit longer, but (I hoped), there wouldn't be any blood drawn.

Judy's closet was not exactly full of stuff that gave off 'biker chick' vibes As far as I knew, edgy for her meant wearing sneakers to the beach instead of flip-flops.

And then she strutted out of the R.V. with a black leather jacket, a baby-pink tshirt, jeans that were practically sprayed on, and boots that made me a little bit envious. Her hair was loose and her bangs were…

Oh! I knew exactly where she'd gotten the inspiration, even if I had no idea where she'd found a moto jacket.

"JUDY!" I shouted in greeting. "YOU'RE SUCH A COOL RIDER."

She didn't squeal, but she punched the air. "You got the reference!"

I would have never expected Sam's mom to channel Michelle Pfeiffer, but like a good mech-head, I'd seen and critiqued both of the Grease movies, and she nailed the style.

"Go, Greased Lightning! Go, Greased Lightning!" my phone sang as my faithful squire pulled a Bumblebee from the storage box near the motorcycle's foot rest.

"Wheelie likes your boots," I said with a smirk. Then tossing her my spare helmet, I added, "Come on. We're 'burning up the quarter-mile' as soon as you're ready to go."

She paused to tuck her clutch into one of my bags, then primly shoved the helmet on her head and gave me a thumbs-up worthy of the Fonz.

Upscale LA bridal couture wouldn't know what hit them and, for once, I was proud to say that wasn't going to be my fault.

I knew Judy was taking this seriously when she directed me to the Galleria. There were a lot of clothing and accessories listed on the mall map, but she breezed past those and led me to a place called Valentina's. Wheelie zoomed on ahead and found a decorative potted palm to stake out in, just in case there was a Decepticon stashed behind the cash register. The store beyond his surveillance spot was decorated in every shade of beige imaginable, with glittering mirrors and runway lighting. Clearly, this was a place to stage a show.

It was also wall-to-wall glamor of the kind that belonged on the red carpet. Maybe not Nicole Kidman levels, but definitely the style of someone who had a sense of whimsy. There was more tutu on the left-hand wall than the dressing room for The Nutcracker.

God bless Judy, she walked right past every ballgown in the place and made a beeline for the young woman dressed in chic black and impressively high heels.

"Hello," she called loudly. "We're here for the most awesomely ostentatiously blingtastic dress ever imagined. Can you help?"

She was in her unstoppable perkiness mood and (since we hadn't stopped to change yet) motorcycle boots that probably weighed more than Mojo. I didn't blame the saleswoman for taking a step back before hitching a smile onto her face.

"I'm sure we can," she said. "Is this your daughter?"

"This is my future mom-in-law," I said, lowering my voice slightly so I could set a more mellow tone. "I'm Mikaela and this is Judy. Blingtastic is optional."

She glanced at me a couple of times so she didn't do an appraising once-over, but she probably imagined that someone wearing this much leather wouldn't want Swarovski crystals on every inch of fabric.

"Is this your first time trying on dresses?" she asked me.

"Yes," I answered.

"And do you have any ideas of what you're looking for?"

She put a gentle emphasis on the word you. In other words, did I actually want the most awesomely ostentatious thing ever to come off a factory line? I felt like she was about to ask me to blink once if I was under duress.

"Oh, we have a lot of ideas," I said, winking at Judy.

"But nothing poofy, nothing Disney, nothing cupcake," Judy announced. "That's not what my girl's wearing."

The poor saleswoman probably thought I was being railroaded by a future mother-in-law who had forgotten whose day this was, so I wrapped an arm around Judy's waist and gave her a slight squeeze.

"This woman knows me so well," I said. "Can you direct me to a restroom?"

She let us use the powder room that actually had the goods to name it that. I stripped down to my dress-appropriate underthings, pulled my travel ballet flats out of my bag, and donned what the blogs had advised as easy-changing clothes. My hair came down from its ponytail and my jeans, shirt and jacket were replaced by loose pants and a short-sleeved top. As a final touch, I put on the earrings that Sam had given me for my birthday.

"Those are gorgeous," Judy said as soon as she saw them. "Were you serious about that tone of red for your wedding colors? Because we could totally work with that!"

"Yeah, I think so. Red works – for several reasons."

"Do you mind if…"

I let her twist my hair up into a clip so the earrings were on full display.

"Not sure what kind of updo you'll want for the big day, but this'll put the bling front and center for the look you decide on."

And then we went out to find the most blingtastic thing that didn't involve any petticoats.

Dress number one was very Audrey Hepburn. From the front, it looked like I should be staring at bracelets and munching a croissant. I even put on my sunglasses before modeling it for Judy. "Oh my god, you're Eliza Doolittle" was the shout of approval from my one-person cheering squad. Not exactly the right reference, but she understood the way that I was feeling.

I liked that the back was open and had just a bit of a train, but it was all too It-girl for me. It made me want to strut and that was anything but what I wanted to feel at the moment that I reached Sam at the end of our yet-to-be-located aisle.

"It's gorgeous," I said politely when the associate gave me a hopeful look. "That's not the problem."

Her face fell a little at the news that there was a problem. "How do you feel about it?" she asked with polite interest.

"Like I belong on the cover of a magazine," I said.

"With earrings down to your shoulders and opera-length gloves," Judy agreed. "It would be a great picture."

"Exactly." I glanced over my shoulder to admire the pleats in the back. "It would be a great picture, but I don't feel comfortable walking down the aisle in this and I definitely can't see myself dancing until my feet fall off in it."

"Oh, I totally get that." As fast as her expression had fallen, Emberly (according to her name tag) perked up. "Let's find you something a little more worthy of a Disney ending."

She didn't get too voluminous, but the next one had a full skirt and fitted bodice, held up by beaded straps. Frankly, it was a lot more enjoyable to wear, but a little bit less my style.

"It's a wish my heart makes," I announced after giving it a good whirl in front of the mirrors.

"Is that a complaint?" Judy asked.

"This is the kind of thing that I'd have fun wearing for the dancing part of the reception." I paused to grin at Emberly. "You got my intentions completely right. But it's not the one."

We started to imitate Goldilocks. I enjoyed a tea-length one, but decided it didn't match my vibe. I couldn't tell exactly what my vibe was yet, but I knew what clashed with it, and the next one–a minidress with a halter neckline and fringe–definitely did.

"We've gone for the middle ground," Judy called after I showed off a floor-length ballgown with a corset top and lace sleeves. "Just for funsies, how about we break the first rule of Dress Club?"

"Don't talk about Dress Club?" Emberly guessed.

"Nothing poofy," I said. "Emberly, can I ask you to find something spectacular that I might balk at?"

I felt like we had a kind of rapport and I was trying to be more open-minded than she was expecting. After she helped me uncinch the dress I was currently wearing, she disappeared for a few minutes.

"I think I've found something," Emberly called when she returned. "Close your eyes."

I flinched when I felt the first layer of tulle brush my legs. I obediently didn't peek, but my mind jumped back to the lime-green prom dress that Sam had found in Mission City.

"I'm hearing a lot of rustling," I observed. "How many swan queens had to die for this dress?"

I was relieved to hear that my patient stylist knew how to laugh. "Not as many as you'd think. And Judy hasn't seen this either."

She let me open my eyes for the walk back to the waiting area, but I passed no mirrors. I made my way onto the raised step and let Emberly arrange the dress for maximum effect before turning to the mirror.

When I was little, Gran was fond of the kind of cake with a doll in the middle of something decorated to look like an icing dress. This looked like that, only bedazzled. I could have slunk out of it and let it stand up on its own, supported by about fifty layers of fluffiness. There were no sleeves or straps, but I felt like Marie Antoinette had come to the '80s and decided to squat in Van Nuys instead of Versailles. All I needed was a headband with a really big bow at the back and maybe a perm.

I was about to start brainstorming something nice to say when I caught Judy's eye. She had her mouth covered and there were tears in her eyes, but her shoulders were shaking in a way that meant she was about to start giggling.

"Okay," I said, trying to keep a straight face, "No one would notice if I tripped over my own feet in this and I couldn't fall flat on my face if I tried."

"In case of flooding, we could use your skirt as a flotation device," Judy added.

"Or a life raft for the entire wedding party," Emberly joked. "I'm guessing this isn't your dream dress?"

"We wanted to rule out both ends of the spectrum and we have," I said. We definitely needed a change of scenery. "Emberly, you've been awesome, but we've got a few more places we need to check out before we make a decision."

We put the corseted dress on hold, got Emberly's card, and (once I'd found my way out of the dress and back into yoga pants) got back on the bike. Judy, my human MapQuest, directed me towards the coast.

Valentina's had the understated vibe, while Bianca's was full of natural light and a lot more mirrors. It was also busier than Valentina's, but we were greeted with enthusiasm and an offer of complimentary champagne. Since we needed our heads clear for major decisions and I still had to drive, we both turned it down in exchange for Perrier.

"This is our second shop of the day," I said when prompted. "We know that we don't want anything that makes me feel like royalty, French or otherwise, and we know that I really want to be able to dance in the gown. We have no objections to embroidery or rhinestones, but petticoats are against my religion."

This attendant was a good ten years older than me, was dressed in sleek black, and smiled less than Emberly, but I couldn't make assumptions on that alone. Judy had found something exciting about this place on Yelp and I was game for trying something different. I had also left my heavy-duty boots with the bike.

"Do we have a price range?" asked the woman who introduced herself as Brigid, the Assistant Manager,

"The higher-end the better," was Judy's cheerful answer. "I've seen you guys called the Kleinfeld's of Venice Beach and it looks like you can live up to that description."

"We have a wide range of styles for a variety of budgets," Brigid said. "Why don't you tell me about what's spoken to you so far?"

She led us past three other brides and their entourages. One had a group of ten on couches and chairs. Another was there with what looked like three generations of motherly opinions. I kept close to Judy until we reached the straight-backed chairs at a small table in the back of the store.

The next five minutes brought me back to the days of paper dolls as Brigid used digital composite software on her laptop to make several mockups of what might be my style. I was worried that Judy might take offense at someone upstaging her magazine-pasted dress designs, but she got more enthusiastic at the possibility of adding applique with a mouse-click.

Once we had five different basic options, Judy took her Perrier to her own staging area and I let Brigid bring me a parade of couture.

"Gorgeous," Judy said to a strapless A-line with a sweetheart neckline and eyelet lace along the hem, "but that's pretty simple."

"Simple's fine with me," I pointed out.

"It's fine," she echoed, "but it's not your dream dress. Can't we take it up a notch?"

That led to an illusion neckline and a backless dress with a train that would sweep a small child off his feet. I saw Judy sneak a peek at the price tag after already deciding that it was "too Princess Diana for our tastes." Like her Audrey Hepburn comment, I had no idea what she meant by that, but once Brigid had placidly gone to retrieve the next dress, I beckoned my future mother-in-law over.

"Um, what's going on?" I demanded.

Judy glanced around at the hundreds of options, her eyes alight with enthusiasm. "I know that she's showing off the low-key stuff and hoping we'll buy from the high end. I want to skip the build-up. You're more valuable than that."

"But we don't know how much my perfect dress is going to cost; if it's something I find while visiting Sam at the Salvation Army next week, then that's what I get," I protested. It came out with a slight squeak of dismay and I took a moment to calm down. "You want me to be blind to the cost and you can't imagine how much that means to me, but I don't want you giving your approval based on how many numbers are before the decimal point on the price tag."

When she started to reason with me again, I held up a hand. "Judy, you're the best mom figure I've ever had, but it would really make a difference if neither of us cared what this will cost."

We were in a shop where there might be five-digit figures and, if it made me happy, I knew Judy would find a way to put it on her AmEx, but that wasn't at all what was important.

"I hear you and I respect you," Judy said. I could hear a hint of disappointment in her voice, but the phrasing made it sound like she was reconnecting with what had made her offer to pay in the first place. "I'm going to have a talk with Ms. Assistant Manager."

I put on the next dress, which definitely came with a higher price tag and had a skirt that somehow looked like a meringue without being too poofy.

"See, this is a really good middle ground," I commented once I'd emerged from the dressing room. "Sam would still have to dance two feet away from me…"

"Ah, but there's the trick," Brigid interrupted with a hint of a smile. "If you'll permit me…"

With a deft set of movements, she transformed the dress.

"Detachable skirt," she announced triumphantly.

"Oh, you're a genius," I blurted out before I could think of something clever to say.

"Oh my heavens, it's like you're a Vegas showgirl," Judy exclaimed.

"That's a compliment," I translated for Brigid.

"Many brides have two dresses so they can be less formal after the ceremony," she informed us. "This makes things simpler."

"I need this," I announced. "Not this…but you know it'll tickle Sam pink."

The meringue skirt had been hiding a simpler dress that was more red carpet than happily-ever-after. Ankle-length and unadorned, it reminded me of something Marilyn Monroe might have worn.

"All right," I said, "what else have you got?"

We repeated the farewell with Brigid, this time having her hold both the meringue Monroe dress and one that had a detachable skirt embroidered with roses.

"Time for a refuel," Judy announced. "What are you in the mood for?"

We wound up at a Hawaiian food cafe that overlooked the beach and I got Judy off the subject of my dream dress and onto ideas for what she and Gran would be wearing. It would have been easier for her to point out something in the binder, but I was able to pay better attention to the bigger picture without a visual aid.

She insisted on paying for lunch, but when she went to the ladies' room, I had our waiter put a passionfruit mousse on a separate tab and paid for it before Judy could object.

"Since we're skipping out on cake-tasting, we deserve dessert," I told her when she came back.

We clinked spoons in a kind of toast, but she paused to converse after the first bite. "This has been a very nice break from all the sample sizes and silhouette talk," she said. "How about we look at some accessories before we throw ourselves at the mercy of another Brigid?"

"Hey, I liked Brigid," I said, grinning. "If we can find someone who listens to us as much as her, we'll be okay. But accessories are much more my thing than ballgowns."

"And you can get some ideas of what you'd like when you do see this priceless dream dress of yours."

"I'm not wearing another tiara," I decided. "That's just for birthday fun time."

She almost choked on her mousse, but agreed to my terms once she could breathe again.

We wandered in and out of shops in Venice, trying not to check out anything that looked like it came from some European country's crown jewels. One of the shops specialized in "beach couture" and I mentally bookmarked a pearl-and-shell bracelet that would go nicely with the money cowrie and pearl necklace that Sam had given me. The most tempting thing was a hair comb with satin flowers and tiny rhinestones, but I had to have a dress before I decided if I wanted my hair in beachy waves or a chignon or something in-between.

We climbed back on the bike and she didn't give a salon name, just an address in Palisades Park. I dutifully navigated to Montana Avenue and 6th and immediately spotted a likely destination.

"Busy Bumblebee Bridals?"

"That's the one," she said.

It definitely wasn't like the other places. For one thing, it was the only shop we'd been to with a "Se Habla Espanol" sign and the parking lot they shared with a dentist's office was half-empty.

I swapped out my boots for flats again and pushed the door open, setting off a bell over the door.

This time, two women came to greet us and from the look of things, they might have been mother and daughter or maybe cousins. Or just the kind of coworkers who start to look alike after years of relying on each other.

"Welcome to Busy Bumblebee Bridals," the younger one said. "I'm Marisol and this is mi tia Elena. You are here for a wedding dress, yes?"

Even without the visual, every vowel and the way she pronounced each S let me know that she was coming to this English conversation from another language.

"Mucho gusto," I said, politely making use of the one phrase I remembered from being introduced at quinceaneras. Marisol beamed at my simple effort. "Yes, I'm getting married in February and I would love to look for my gown here."

"Perfect." I exchanged handshakes with both of them. "We have a variety of styles and Elena does the alterations for us, so I am sure that we can make you happy with what you find here. What is your name?"

"Mikaela. And this is–"

"Judy," she said, getting a handshake of her own. "I'm the future mom-in-law."

"How nice that you are here to help," Marisol said politely.

I sucked in a deep breath, feeling comfortable enough to elaborate in a place this welcoming. "Judy is my madrina del vestido."

"Ay que linda," Elena exclaimed, snatching Judy's hand from Marisol and leaning across to kiss her cheek.

I didn't understand the next two sentences, but I heard suegra and benedicion and the enthusiasm was clear. Judy looked surprised at both the upgraded seal of approval from the staff and my invocation of a Spanish title. If there was ever a place to publicly out her for the role she was playing, it was in a place where that name meant something.

"We will take good care of you both," Marisol promised. "Will you want her to help decide or just approve your decision in the end?"

Judy had been heavily involved all day and I was tempted to let her relax this time, but knew she would feel better if we played by the same rules in every shop.

"She understands what will make me happy," I said. "I love it when she helps."

We did the usual tour of the shop and I was surprised to see that they steered clear of most things that would make me look like a Disney princess. Even better, they had several dresses with colorful embroidery in a few places as well as ruffled necklines and more free-flowing dresses. I could tell that they expected a lot of their clients to have a wedding Mass based on the more modest options and some of the veil styles.

On my second trip around the shop, I found myself drawn back to dresses with one detail.

"Lace is always beautiful," Marisol commented.

"I love how many ways it can be added," I explained.

I wasn't going to be head to toe in applique or anything, but I appreciated a little bit at the hem or making up the sleeves. One was even a very plain dress with a beautiful lace and ribbon sash. I found that one in my size and Marisol immediately escorted me to a changing room.

We chatted about the aspects of other dresses I had liked so far and she promised to find a few more things. One of the best parts about this first dress was that it didn't take any assistance to put on. Marisol returned with one very formal dress and one that suggested I was getting married in Cabo San Lucas.

I didn't wait to try the second option. "I like this a lot," I said, "but do you have one without the lace?"

It had a crossover neckline and a skirt that rippled like the waves of the sea. I was pretty sure that we weren't going to find a beach with the right security requirements, and getting married on Valentine's Day reinforced that impression, but it reminded me of the bracelet I'd seen over lunch and the necklace Sam gave me. Even the earrings would go well as part of the ensemble.

One look at the dress with a scoop neck and a sash made me want to channel my high school music teacher and start singing about Sharks and Jets, since it was very close to Maria's white dress at the gym, but I didn't want to bring that up to people who took pride in everything here.

"I feel very young in this," I said. "Let's try the next one."

The next one was definitely meant for a church wedding, with lace all over the bodice and a long train.

"Oh, that top is great," Judy commented.

"It would look really great as a jacket," I commented. "But I want something a little simpler. It's so elegant it's a little intimidating."

The third one was completely lace-free, but as soon as I saw myself in the mirror, I shook my head. "This is too laid back."

"We're not trying to be difficult," Judy informed Marisol.

"You are trying to be very helpful," she said. "I like you."

"Same, girlfriend." Judy hadn't had anything to drink since Bianca's, but she seemed to be lowering her boundaries around such friendly people. "This one is gorgeous on you, but I swear it's a longer version of what you wore the day Sammy went off to college."

I pointed emphatically. "That. I've been trying to think what it reminded me of. Not that he'd object, but I think this style is just too in my comfort zone. Too casual for something this important."

Two dresses later, Elena and Marisol converged at the dressing room. I took the part-lace shrug with a quick gracias and let Marisol hang the dress. This one had an inaccessible zipper, so I let Marisol close it starting at the base of my spine and running to the nape of my neck. I instinctively glanced at myself over my shoulder and stopped to stare at the image in the mirror.

Somehow, she'd found something that was both a nod to my normal style and completely different. Without waiting to check myself out from the front, I hitched up the skirt and almost strutted to where Judy was waiting.

"Whoa."

I laughed and took a good look at the halter neckline, made up of lace so understated that it practically went overlooked. It had the same wrap style as the beachy dress and a pretty simple skirt, but I held up a hand and turned around slowly.

"That is so totally you," Judy said, sounding both teary and impressed.

"Racerback lace," I said. "I didn't know such a thing existed."

"Con la chaqueta," Elena reminded me.

I let her help me into the shrug that was translucent chiffon everywhere but the cuffs, where they had a lace applique in the shape of a rose.

"Whoa," I echoed. This would go perfectly with the rose overskirt I had liked.

"Can I make a comment?" Judy said, her eyes bright.

Looking at the dress again in the mirror, I said, "Yes, if it's that we're going to need to ring this up before we forget this feeling."

She grinned and saluted. "Yes, ma'am. You took the words right out of my mouth."

I caught Marisol's eye and winked. "I told you she knows what makes me happy."

I wasn't one for getting mushy over clothing, but it took me minutes after getting out of that dress to stop running my hand over the fabric and imagining the way Sam's hands would feel through the layers of chiffon. I finally stepped back and shook my head to snap out of the fantasy, then carefully draped the jacket over the hanger.

"I have a comment as well," I said as I joined Judy at the counter. "I think we need to come back here for you and Gran."

"We'll bring her shopping for the first fitting," Judy said in approval. "Which will be when?"

We got it on Judy's calendar app, which meant she'd put it in the Binder as soon as we got home. I tactfully wandered over to the section for jewelry so Judy could pay off our new best friends in private, then returned as soon as I heard her receipt printing.

"Muchas, muchas, muchas gracias," I said. "We will see you again soon."

I wanted to hug Judy on our way back to the bike, but I felt like she'd been fawned over enough for one stop. Instead, I hooked my arm through hers.

"You can't imagine just how special today has been."

"I've got an inkling," Judy said with a modest wave of her hand. "I'm surprised I didn't ruin my mascara." Sniffling slightly, she said, "So, we're getting your dress from here, the detachable overskirt with the roses from Brigid, and you've got the jewelry figured out. Any ideas on hair?"

Remembering that comb with the pearls and roses, I said, "Actually, yes."


Author's note: Darthishtar is a huge fan of My Fair Wedding and Say Yes to the Dress, so when she got to trawl the internet for what people were wearing in 2013, it became her favorite chapter of the fic so far. All of these dresses were ones she found in her searches and she enjoyed setting the whole adventure in the cities around Los Angeles that she sometimes called home. Before living in the San Fernando valley for a year and a half, she was told to expect everyone she worked with to hug and kiss her, so Marisol and Elena are cut affectionately and gratefully from the cloth of the many people who made her feel welcome in their lives.