scar. I love it.
“Much better,” Sophie says, entering the room. “Turn around so I can see how the back looks on you.” I do as she asks. “It’s perfect for you. Okay. Now I have some sort of idea of colour and style. Mom?”
Sarah comes back over to help me, and Sophie is off again. Taking a few more dresses away before bringing a few more back and then taking off again. This time she comes back with glasses filled with what looks like orange juice. Here I am, standing in a dressing room in only panties and a bra, drinking juice from a champagne glass. I laugh as I look in the mirror.
“What is it?” Sophie asks. I can only point at myself in the mirror. With that, Sophie laughs as well and then whispers, “There’s some wine in our glasses with the juice. I won’t tell if you don’t.”
Sarah is still shaking her head at us both as we burst out laughing again. Yeah, Sophie and I are going to get along fine. She reminds me of Kirsty.
I spend the next hour or so putting on and taking off lots of different styles in a variety of bright colours. So far my favourite is the red. But Sophie has, I think, deliberately left the cream dress I was admiring till last.
“Sarah, are you all right? You’re awfully quiet,” I ask out of concern.
“I’m fine. I’m enjoying watching you two together. Remember, Sophie, Elizabeth has a lunch date with your brother.”
“It’s fine, Mom. We’ll be done in plenty of time,” she replies. “Right, Libby—last one. Close your eyes.”
“I can’t close my eyes and get dressed.”
“Yes, you can.”
I close my eyes as Sophie gives me instructions. I feel the material slide up my legs and over my hips. She then removes my bra completely before gently guiding my arms through. Then, raising my arm, she pulls the zipper up and fastens the clip.
“Take my hand,” she says. My eyes are still closed as we walk slowly. “I’m going to let go of your hand, but don’t open your eyes yet.”
I nod slowly and wait.
“Open.”
I open my eyes slowly. I gasp. It’s stunning. It looks as if it was made for me. The fit is perfect. I’m scared to focus my attention on the back, because I know I’m not going to like what I see, but from the front, it’s perfect.
“Wait. What shoe size are you?” Sophie asks.
“A five.”
“So a seven.” She darts off as soon as I answer. She is back only moments later with a bag and matching black shoes. They are beautiful. I slip them on and look back into the mirror. I love it. The cowl neckline is flattering but not too revealing. I glance in the mirror at the back—or lack of it. I see the scar, although not all of it. Some of it is hidden under the material. Could I be comfortable for the night, wearing this knowing some of my scar would be visible?
Sarah comes to stand beside us at the mirror. She obviously senses my concerns. “I know what you must be thinking. But I have to be honest with you. Not that much of it is showing, and it doesn’t look bad. And this dress is perfect on you.”
I sigh, thinking that if it weren’t for my scar, this dress would win hands down.
“I believe, Elizabeth, you have a decision to make. Red or cream?” Sarah asks with a smile.
“You know, whichever one you pick, Libby, my brother will love you in it and, later, out of it,” Sophie says, laughing.
“Sophie Mathews!” Sarah exclaims.
“Mom, I’m only speaking the truth.”
I can’t hide the smirk on my face, because deep down I know exactly what she means. I can see the look on his face as he unzips me out of either one. This thought I like. So . . . red or cream?
“Come on, Libby, don’t keep us in suspense. What’s it going be?”
“Ladies, I’m afraid I’m going to keep you waiting until tomorrow night, because I’m going to buy them both.”
“That’s great, although I am disappointed I have to wait till tomorrow. I’m sure it will be worth the wait,” Sophie says. “Now, you must know you