Authors: S. Walden
“I’ll help you zip up. Just get them on first,” she called to Clara.
Jesse chatted with Clara as she helped her try on dresses. They shared the chocolates—Clara careful to keep her fingers clean around the dresses—and Jesse finally made Clara laugh and open up a little bit about Evan. Jesse squealed like a teenage girl when Clara told her about the first time Evan talked to her in the cafeteria.
They were six dresses in before Clara stepped out wearing a soft yellow floor-length dress. It hugged her body, dipping low in the front to show just a little bit of cleavage and cinching her small waist with a band of ruby-colored jewels. The back of the dress was breathtaking, fabric plunging to her lower back just above the band of rubies. Right under the band, the dress gathered and tumbled to the floor in a short, sweeping train. Jesse stood stock still, staring at her customer.
“Oh Clara,” she breathed. “This is the one.”
“Is it?” Clara asked.
Jesse replied by turning Clara around to face the full-length mirror. Clara didn’t recognize herself. The soft yellow of the dress was a perfect contrast to her dark brown hair. The band of rubies sparkled around her waist. She thought it was silly, but it made her feel like a princess. She fingered the jewels one by one as she listened to Jessie explain how the dress oozed understated elegance. Clara turned around to look at the train, wondering how she would walk around with it. Jesse sensed her uncertainty.
“Look,” she said, picking up the end of the train and turning the material inside out. She hooked her fingers around an elastic band sewn into the fabric. “It’s a wristband, see? You hook it around your wrist and then you won’t trip as you walk in your dress.”
Clara nodded feeling much better. She turned to look at herself again.
Jesse handed her a pair of strappy sandals. “We’ll need to alter it just slightly. The length needs to be taken up a bit.” She pulled a small box out of her pocket and flipped the lid while Clara fastened her shoes. “Stand straight up,” Jesse ordered and knelt down to secure pins around the hem of the dress. She glanced every now and again at Clara and smiled. This was her favorite part about her job, when a girl who thought she couldn’t afford a pretty dress for prom finally found it and felt like the luckiest girl in the world.
“Hair definitely up,” Jesse said standing up again. “You have a beautiful neck and need to show it off.”
Clara nodded.
“And soft make-up,” Jesse went on. “Don’t overpower the dress. Let the dress do all the talking. And no jewelry. You don’t need it with that band of jewels around your waist. Not even earrings.”
“No, I have to wear earrings,” Clara said.
“No you don’t.”
“Yes, I do,” Clara insisted gently. “They’re from a good friend who died recently.”
“I see,” Jesse said. “Well, not to sound completely heartless, but do they match?”
Clara grinned. “It doesn’t matter.”
***
“Okay, Clara. You go first this time,” Beatrice said.
Clara sat beside her sister outside among the honeysuckle vines. They grew faster and fuller this year, overtaking the flowerbeds and choking out the few perennials that attempted a comeback. The vines were more fragrant, attracting an assortment of bugs that flew around Beatrice and Clara. Beatrice swatted at them and told them she and her sister weren’t going anywhere and that the bugs would have to learn to share. Clara grinned. She plucked a flower and held it to her mouth.
“I wish for a fun prom night,” she said and sucked the end of the flower.
“And romantic, too, right?” Beatrice asked. “Is Evan picking you up?”
“Yes,” Clara replied.
“Are you nervous?”
“Yes,” Clara admitted.
“Well, you shouldn’t be, Clara. You have the prettiest dress in the world, and you’ll be the prettiest girl there.” Beatrice said it with such certainty that Clara didn’t object. “I wish for Angela to stay my best friend for life,” Beatrice said sucking down the nectar of the flower she just plucked.
“I wish for a good senior year,” Clara said and tasted the sweetness on her tongue.
“I wish for acting lessons when Mom can afford them,” Beatrice said and drained her flower.
“I don’t know that you need acting lessons, Bea,” Clara pointed out. “You’re pretty good.”
“One can always improve upon their craft, Clara,” Beatrice explained, and Clara nodded with complete understanding.
Clara paused considering her last wish. She thought it may be too personal for Beatrice to hear, but she wanted to make her wish in the honeysuckle grove, believing that if she said it out loud surrounded by the magical flowers then it was certain to come true.
“I wish to stay in love forever,” she said finally, and sucked down the nectar.
“Oh, you will, Clare-Bear,” Beatrice said. “You and Evan will get married.”
Clara grinned. “We’ll see,” she said and fell back into the yellow flowers, crushing the sweet sugar all around her.
Clara was unsure if she could ask her mother for help getting ready for prom after she told her mother she hated her. She didn’t know how that worked, if parents truly loved unconditionally. Past experiences convinced her that Ellen didn’t, and she thought she should feel ashamed to even ask her mother for help. It was ballsy, and Clara knew it.
But she asked anyway, and her mother agreed excitedly. Perhaps she took Clara’s request as a sort of truce, and it only made Clara feel worse. She secretly wished Ellen had said no, slammed the door in her face, and left her on her own. She thought she deserved it. She also thought she should apologize, but she didn’t know how. Or maybe for Ellen it didn’t matter. Being asked to spend time with her daughter whenever she could was apology enough.
Ellen wanted to make a fun night of it. She popped popcorn and cracked open Dr. Peppers and shoved Madonna’s
Greatest Hits
into the CD player. Beatrice danced around Ellen’s room singing
Lucky Star
and trying not to spill her soda while Ellen rolled Clara’s hair with steam curlers.
“God, you have the prettiest hair, Clara,” Ellen said. She wasn’t trying to flatter. She really meant it.
Clara smiled shyly. She let her mother do her make-up as the curlers set, making sure to tell her that Jesse suggested something light and natural.
“Well, I’m not an idiot, Clara,” Ellen replied. “The dress is the statement tonight.”
Beatrice ate the entire bowl of popcorn as she watched her mother work. Ellen finished the make-up, then removed the curlers from Clara’s hair.
“Jesse said I should wear it up,” Clara said to her mother.
“I agree completely,” Ellen replied. “We need to show off your beautiful neck. It’s like a dancer’s neck,” and Clara cringed remembering the exchange over Christmas with Beatrice about
The Nutcracker
.
“Clara? Are you completely and utterly excited?!” Beatrice squealed. She took another large gulp of her soda.
“I think you’ve had too much caffeine, Bea,” Clara replied.
“That’s not an answer!” Beatrice said. “Tell us what you’re feeling!”
Clara grinned. “I feel really excited and really nervous.”
“Well, when everyone sees you in that dress, they’re going to stop cold,” Ellen said. “Are you prepared to have all eyes on you?” She laughed as Clara’s face froze in fear. Beatrice saw it, too.
“Oh Clara,” she said. “Relax! There’s nothing wrong with being the center of attention every once in awhile. Especially when it’s good attention.”
Clara tried to relax. She watched her mother in the mirror as she pulled her hair towards the nape of her neck, securing strands of it with pins until it was fastened into a messy chignon. She gave Clara a hand mirror to look at it from behind.
“What do you think?” Ellen asked.
“It’s so neat. How do you do that?” Clara asked, tentatively touching her hair.
“Well, I always wanted to be a hair dresser,” Ellen said. “And an actress. Bea, that’s where you get your acting bug. A singer and a writer. Oh yeah, and a sculptor.” She winked at Clara. “I’m not quite finished yet,” and she disappeared to another room.
She came back with a few red roses that matched the rubies on Clara’s dress exactly.
“What do you think about pinning some of these in your hair?” Ellen asked.
Clara nodded, and her mother pinned three roses in and around Clara’s chignon.
“Oh, Clara,” Beatrice said dreamily. “You look so elegant.” She sighed and finished her soda then plopped herself down on Ellen’s bed. “Isn’t she elegant, Mom?”
“Beyond elegant,” Ellen answered. She looked at her daughter wistfully. “Clara, you’re all ready. You just need to get dressed.”
***
Beatrice grabbed Evan’s hand and pulled him into the house.
“Now you’ll want to faint when you see her because she’s so beautiful, but don’t,” Beatrice said. “Otherwise you’ll be late for the dance.”
“Naturally,” Evan replied. He stood in the center of the living room looking handsome in a black tuxedo and closed his eyes at Beatrice’s command. He was apprehensive about seeing Clara dressed up. He’d never seen her that way and wondered if he would even recognize her. He wondered, too, if he would like it.
“Okay, Clara!” Ellen called, and Clara emerged from her bedroom.
Evan could hear the clicking of her heels on the hardwoods and was anxious to open his eyes. He knew Beatrice was watching him, though, and kept them tightly closed, waiting until she ordered him to open them. When the clicking stopped, he knew Clara was standing in front of him, and he was impatient to reach out and touch her.
“Evan, your princess awaits you,” Beatrice announced, and Clara giggled. “You can open your eyes now!”
His eyes flew open and fastened onto the most beautiful and tragic girl he’d ever seen. He prayed his face did not betray his thoughts as he took in her dress. He recognized it instantly, and his heart sank. It was the band of rubies he remembered so distinctly, wrapped around another girl’s waist last year, a girl he didn’t care to think about tonight. He considered the probability of Clara choosing the same dress, thinking life was incredibly unfair sometimes, wondering where on earth she even got her hands on it, and fearing her response if he told her. He simply had no words. He could think of nothing to say, though he knew he couldn’t stay mute forever. There were three expectant faces staring at him waiting for a verbal reaction. He had to make sure he said the right thing.
“Clara,” he said quietly. “You are breathtaking,” and Beatrice squealed her approval.
It was the truth. Clara had never looked so beautiful and refined. Evan took out the wrist corsage he brought. Ellen told him to get one with red roses, and he thought that meant Clara would be wearing a red dress. He slipped the band of the corsage over her wrist and entwined his fingers with hers.
“I just want to take a few pictures,” Ellen said. “I promise it won’t take long.”
“Clara, are you excited about your spectacular entrance?” Beatrice asked.
“Yes, Bea,” Clara said, though the only person she cared about looking at her was Evan.
Evan ran the scenarios over and over in his head as he escorted Clara to his car. He could tell her right here and ruin her happiness. He never saw her look so happy and confident. He could take her to prom and hope that Amy and her friends would not notice the two of them. It was a large senior class made even larger by everyone’s dates. There was a good chance that he and Clara would not run into them. Evan even entertained the ludicrous idea that Amy wouldn’t remember. She was always getting new clothes. She tossed in-season clothes to make room for all of the things her father constantly bought her. And Amy obviously donated the custom dress. So if she donated it, it must not have meant anything special to her.
The more Evan thought about it, the more he convinced himself that it wasn’t the big deal he originally thought. But he wouldn’t allow his mind to contemplate one other scenario: Amy and her friends making fun of Clara. He couldn’t allow his thoughts to go there. Girls weren’t that cruel.
But Evan was naïve.
***
Clara wasn’t sure what to expect upon arriving at the prom. There were so many people, and she gripped Evan’s hand as they made their way into the dance hall to keep from getting separated. She hooked the wrist band on her arm like Jesse instructed so she wouldn’t trip over her dress. She noticed that some girls looked at her oddly. Perhaps they didn’t recognize her. She barely recognized herself.
They found a table in the corner where Chris and his date, Caroline, were already seated. Chris and Caroline wasted no time getting out on the dance floor, and Evan tried to get Clara to do the same.
“I’m really uncomfortable dancing,” Clara said, reluctant to leave her seat.
Evan was relentless and pulled her to her feet.
“We don’t have to dance to any of the fast songs. I have the worst rhythm anyway,” he said.