Excerpt: Black & Orange

The dress in the window was zebra-striped—yes, zebra-striped!—and was asymmetrical with one sleeve, and had a feathery poof on the bottom.

“Are you sure about this place, honey?” my mom said, her nose wrinkled up.

“Let’s just give it a try,” my sister urged, and without further ado, she walked in.

We were greeted by the sale’s lady, and shown to a place to sit, while Erin headed off with the lady to look at the dresses and try them on.

In the meantime, I started laughing. “Like she’s going to find anything here!” I said. “Unless she’s gone crazy!”

“Ellie,” my mother said, giving me a warning look. “Maybe she’ll find something special here.”

Soon enough, out came Erin, wearing—to all of our shocks—a very, very beautiful dress. The only problem? It was orange. Orange. Not bright-bright orange, but an orange dulled down. When Erin got closer, I realized that it had white lace over an orange bottom. The dress had a sweetheart-styled top, which, as much as I hated to admit it, looked gorgeous on Erin. The dress was tight on her waist, accented by an orange ribbon tied around the waist. The dress gently flared out, and the train fell down in ruffles down the back and then down onto the floor.

“Mom. Ellie. Mrs. Taylor. This is it,” Erin said, and I noticed she had tears in her eyes. She stood in front of the mirror and looked at herself, while we all sat there, unable to speak.

“B-But Erin, dear,” my mother finally said, and she looked at myself and Mrs. Taylor as if looking for reinforcement, “it’s… it’s orange.”

Erin licked her lips and turned to face us. “But that’s what I want,” she said. Her eyes were now wide and still watery, and I could see the trail of a tear that had paved its way through her foundation.

“But orange is my favorite color. We could have a black and orange wedding! Don’t you think those colors look lovely together?”

“No,” I said, “they’re Halloween colors!”

“Ellie!” my mother cried, shooting me a look of death that Erin had given me so many times. I shrugged my shoulders and leaned back in my chair. I guess they didn’t need my advice.

“It is a lovely dress,” Mrs. Taylor offered, and now my mother looked like she was going to cry.

“Please, Mom,” Erin said, and she walked over to my mother and took her hands in hers. “Please let this happen.”
“Alright,” my mother finally said, although I could tell she really didn’t want to agree, “a black and orange wedding it is.”