Chapter 1 - The Weight of Heavy Fabric
Alexis smoothed her hands down her apron, her face settling into a mask of patient disappointment. "I found it at a vintage estate sale in Oakridge, Lily. It’s authentic, vintage silk from the late seventies. I thought you appreciated craftsmanship and history, given your mother’s background."
"Vintage?" I echoed, lifting one of the heavy, stiff sleeves. The fabric smelled faintly of damp wool and old cardboard. "Alexis, this isn't silk. It's heavy synthetic brocade, and the color is ruined. Look at the water stains along the hem."
Brianna wiped a tear of laughter from her eye. "You look like a historical reenactor who got lost on the way to the butter churn."
"Brianna, stop," Dad called out as he walked into the living room, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked tired, the deep lines around his eyes a permanent reminder of the three years since Mom had passed. He looked at Brianna in her sparkling ice-blue gown, his face softening with a smile. "You look beautiful, sweetheart."
Then his gaze shifted to me, holding the mustard-colored disaster.
"Dad," I said, my voice shaking despite my best efforts to keep it steady. "Alexis spent the money you gave her on Brianna’s dress. She bought this at a thrift shop for twenty dollars."
Dad sighed, the familiar look of exhaustion settling over his features. "Lily, don't start. You know how much money we're putting aside for your college deposit this month. Alexis spent hours looking for something unique for you."
"She didn't look for something unique," I insisted, holding the dull, stained curtain-like fabric toward him. "She bought this so I would look ridiculous standing next to Brianna!"
"Mark," Alexis said softly, her voice dipping into that fragile, wounded tone she reserved for when I stood up for myself. "I only wanted to give Lily something classic. If she hates my taste, I can take it back. But there’s no money left in the budget for boutique prices. I tried my best."
Dad put his arm around Alexis’s shoulders. "It's fine, Alexis. You did a great job." He looked at me, his eyes stern. "Lily, be grateful. You're going to prom, you have a dress, and we are a family. Stop looking for reasons to be angry."
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I swallowed the lump of hot rage in my throat. Looking at Dad, I realized the man who used to stay up until midnight helping Mom dye silk for theater costumes was completely gone. In his place was a stranger who preferred quiet comfort over the truth.
Without another word, I grabbed the heavy mustard dress and carried it up the stairs to my room.
