The Quaker Café (25 page)

“Of course you can
, and you’ll never regret it.” The tinkling of a silver tray with three long stem Waterford glasses and two bottles of sherry interrupted her. Celeste set them on the side table next to them.

“Do you prefer a sweet
Moscatel or an Olosroso?” Celeste asked.

“
Moscatel,” Billie answered immediately.

“I prefer something a bit dry,” Liz said, as if she could even remember the last
time she had sherry.

“Wonderful,” Celeste said as she poured a generous glass for each and then added a dollop to her own cup of coffee
. “Now, when is this wedding?”

“Five weeks.”

“Good Lord!  You waited until five weeks before the wedding to go shopping?”  Billie shot Liz an I-told-you-so glance. “Well, not to fear,” she said. “I’ve been in tighter binds. Now, what do you like?”

            “A simple, basic, not-too-expensive
, mother-of-the-groom dress.”

“Ah, yes
. Stand up and turn around and let me have a look at you.”

Liz took a sip of the sherry, which was not bad at all, and did as she was told.

“Take the hat off, dear.”

Off came the UNC cap.

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” Celeste repeated as she twirled her index finger a few more times to encourage continued rotation. “Tell me about the hair.”

“The hair?  Well, I cut it off.”

“Uh-huh. I can see that. Is it a political statement or are you on chemicals?”

“I have a friend with cancer
. It’s more of an affirmation for a friend.”

“How important is the hair for the wedding?”

“I don’t quite understand. What do you mean?”

“I’m just wondering whether you want to coordinate a head dressing with the dress, wear a hat or add accessories
. Let’s see, you’ll have another half inch in a month. It’ll cover your head, lie close and flat, could be rather chic. You know, what dress we pick would make a difference.”

“I hadn’t really thought about it
. What do you recommend?”

“I’m thinking,” she said and then twirled her fingers a couple of more times and Liz did another turn and a half before picking up the sherry glass and taking a second sip.

“You have wonderful breasts,” Celeste eyed her chest. Liz blushed. “We’ll want to do something to bring the look up. Accentuate the positive, you know. Now the hips. Did you bring your foundations?”

“Foundations?”

“Your underpinnings.”

“Underpinnings?”

“The things you wear under the dress, my dear, to hold everything firm and together.”

“I’m wearing a bra and underpants
. Do they count?”

“Oh
, my, no. That is the first place we have to start. No point going any further.”  Celeste immediately rose and returned to the inner sanctum of the back room.

Liz took another swallow of sherry and gaped at Billie
. “Foundations?” 

“She’ll fix you up, honey
. If you’re going to do it you want to do it right, don’t you?”

“What’s this going to cost me?”

“You brought a credit card, didn’t you?  Not to worry. You’ll look like Greta Garbo by the time she gets finished. It’ll be worth every penny.”

“Greta
Garbo’s dead, isn’t she?”

Celeste returned with five different brassieres; three were strapless
. In addition,

she had upper thigh and enhanced spandex hip panties with a midriff which fastened onto
the bra, as well as three different styles of body suits that included a bra in the suit, and enclosed the entire upper body below the shoulders. Two were for strapless dresses and one slipped over the arms and shoulders. Prices were not marked on any of them.

“My God,” Liz said as she spread each one out and explained which kind of dress each one was designed for. “How do you pee?”

“Don’t drink anything before or during the wedding reception,” she admonished.

“Can you breathe in them?”

“We highly recommend breathing,” Celeste smiled. “If when you try it on you find yourself short of breath, we probably need to order a larger size.”

Liz took another drink of sherry and Celeste refilled her glass
. “Couldn’t I just wear the bottom for the hips and forget the other pieces?” Liz asked.

“Probably not a good idea
, because the objective is to hold everything in. Just wearing the bottom piece simply pushes those extra pounds up, and then you have an expanded waist and midriff. The point is to smooth out all the rough edges. No panty lines, no bra straps that show through the dress. No little unsightly bulges popping out.”

“Yeah, but if you keep pushing it up, eventually you have a triple chin,” Liz said.

“No really, most of it goes into the bosoms, and that’s a plus. You get the full impact of smoothing out everything below the breasts and then enlarging your cup size so it all blossoms forth over the top.”

“Oh,” Liz said
. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Now,” Celeste said with a flourish, “Let me get you set up in the dressing room and I’ll take some measurements and then bring you some dresses so we can get a feel for what you like
”

“Couldn’t I just browse through the racks?” Liz asked as she stood a second time and started to make her way back to the racks.

“No, no, no. That’s a mistake far too many people make. Clothes look much different on you than they do on the racks. If you don’t try it on, you’ll never know.”

Three and a half hours later, in a dressing room equal the size of the entire front room and surrounded with mirrors and sofas, this had become a team effort
. It crossed Liz’s mind that only hospitals and fittings rooms required women to forsake any hope of modesty. Liz let Billie and Celeste zip and tug and push and stuff her in and out of a series of dresses. Liz really just wanted to munch on chocolate chip cookies and drink coffee or sip sherry, but the spandex reminded her that eating and drinking were both high risk behaviors.

With each dress she’d do a twirl or two and Billie and Celeste would discuss the pros and cons. There was one dress that Liz liked, black, short and simple, and two that she loved. One black floor length dress had an impressive drop dead neckline that gave her a Dolly Parton bust and a lady-of-the-night air
.

“It’s not for comfort,” Celeste said
, as she and Billie concluded that the black flattered Liz most. “It’s a show-stopper for sure, the kind that lets you stand beside the bar or a mantel piece with a glass of Chivas Regal, looking glamorous.”

“What if I wanted to dance?”

“A waltz, perhaps…no tango, though. None of this boom-boom shake-your-bootie stuff. I have to special order those. I don’t carry them in the show room.”

“But I have to sit at some point.”

“Why?”

“Well, I’d have to sit down in the church
. And I’d have to get in and out of cars. You don’t get transported flat to a church unless you’re in a hearse.”

“That’s true. That actually may be the only time you could wear that dress in a church, so we sho
uld probably drop that particular one from consideration. Can’t upstage the bride or the mother-of-the-bride. You’re lower in the pecking order at this event, BUT, you do look fabulous in it. Perhaps you’d like to go ahead and get it for another occasion, a second honeymoon, or a lucrative divorce settlement?”

“Right!
Any divorce I have wouldn’t be lucrative, and I don’t think Chase could sleep with me if I showed up in a dress like that,” Liz said.

“Don’t kid yourself,” Billie chided, “a man would sleep with
anyone
who showed up in a dress like that, which might lead to that lucrative divorce.”

“Okay, that dress is out, unless Billie wants to buy it
. Let me try on the teal again.” The second dress, a long teal with a square neckline and a short sleeve jacket trimmed in white lace, was more appropriate for the mother-of-the-groom, but  fit a little too intimate  around the hips. Liz had a vision of seams that tore apart as she lowered her spandex-encased butt into her seat in the front row of the church.

“Not to worry,” Celeste reassured her
. “I’ll get our seamstress in here and she’ll have it fitted to you without any trouble. You buy better quality clothing and they don’t skimp on the extra material in the seams. There’s room to expand.”

“Tell you what, Celeste,” Liz finally said
. “I need to run some numbers and see if I can afford any of this.”

Celeste looked at Liz with sad green eyes
. She obviously wasn’t used to customers who put money ahead of fashion. “Dear,” she said, sweetly, “you’re not buying a condominium. You’re buying a dress.”

Liz smiled back
. “I still need to run some numbers.”

“Very well, I’ll leave you two alone
. Let me know when you’re ready.”

“Billie, we’re talking
four hundred dollars,” Liz said after adding up the cost of the dress and foundations. “That’s twice as much as I’d hoped to spend, with shoes and everything.”

“It’s a steal,” Billie said, “but I guess we’ve got enough time to drive over to Richmond and look if you really think it’s too expensive.
” Billie shook her head sadly. “And then of course, we could try Raleigh next weekend. You’ll still have four weeks left.”

“Stop it, Billie,” Liz groaned
. “I’m not going through this again. The thought of doing it all over next weekend makes me dizzy.”

“So you go cheap on shoes, and we’ll go through my jewelry and Maggie’s and come up with something
. Plus, you don’t need a hat with this outfit … nice earrings and a necklace and you’re all set. Look at it as an investment. You will have your wedding dress for every wedding for the rest of your life.”

“Oh,” Liz moaned
. She got up and walked over to the dress on the hanger and looked at it again. “I do like it.”

“You know,” Billie beamed as if lightning had just struck
. “I once went to a party at the beach where instead of flowers the hostess had used clear flat bowls, the cheap kind you get at Pottery World in Smithfield. She had a votive candle in the middle of each with sand and seashells scattered around the outside of the centerpiece. It was quite attractive and very appropriate for a beach barbecue rehearsal dinner. Voilá. I just saved you one thousand bucks.”

“I like it, Billie
. That’s a great idea.”

“How about the dress?  You look stunning in it
. It’s you. Honest,” Billie prodded.

Fifteen minutes later Billie went to get Celeste
. “Splendid!” she exclaimed as they walked together back into the fitting room. “I already called the seamstress. She’s on her way over.”

Turning to Billie, Celeste slipped her arm around her waist directing her back into the showroom
. “While we wait,” she said, “I have an adorable hot magenta skirt with a rose pink blouse I pulled off the rack for you to try. I thought of you the minute it came in. Would you like another little sip of sherry?”

There was a knock at the side door into the den
. “Afternoon,” LuAnne said.

“Hi,
LuAnne,” Liz said, with more than a hint of surprise. The last time she remembered LuAnne coming to their house was when she babysat for Nat and Adam years ago, but then without explanation declined any further requests. Liz had replaced her with a transitory stream of teenagers. “Just getting out of church?”

“Wondered if I could talk to you about something?”

“Sure. Come in.” Chase and the boys were glued to a football game between North Carolina and Mississippi State, but they all looked up. Chase rose from his chair.

“We’re just going out on the porch.” Liz motioned to
the sliding glass door. The  three males all turned their attention back to the game, grateful to be dismissed.

“Iced tea?”  Liz asked.

“That would be nice,” LuAnne said as they detoured through the kitchen. Liz loved the way that all the rooms on the top floor had sliding glass doors that led onto the porch. Throughout warm weather, with everything opened, there was a delightful cross-breeze.

“It’s been a great help knowing that you’re with Maggie during part of the day,” Liz said, and motioned to the two rocking chairs on the porch. She couldn’t imagine why
LuAnne had come.
Maybe she wanted to quit? Maybe the work had gotten to be too much. Perhaps she needed money?

LuAnne
tugged at her skirt, and then sat down in the rocker. The edge of her knee stockings showed at the hemline. After one more effort to pull her skirt down, she  ignored them, and looked at Liz over her glasses. “Miss Liz, can we straight talk?”

“Of course.”

LuAnne squared off her shoulders and leaned forward. The fullness of her lips would have been a cherished feature to any model. She rolled them inwards, tightening them before she spoke. “I been taking care of Miss Maggie since she was seven years old. I know what she’s got now is bad. Reverend Broadnax talked about it again in church today, and told everybody she needs a match.”