You’ll Find Me in Manhattan. Jill Knapp

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СКАЧАТЬ would help prepare me for what I was going to do after graduation. Or at the very least, guarantee one letter of recommendation. I had narrowed down the application process to three Ph.D. programs, all in New York. I tried to talk to my mom about how overwhelmed I felt, but instead of lending an ear, she convinced me to get the wedding planning out of the way so I could focus on school when it was all sorted out. I could tell she was much more interested in my wedding than my career path. She finally gave me enough anxiety on the matter that I caved and reluctantly agreed to let her come with me. I played the “maid of honor card,” asking Amalia to come along as a buffer.

      “I understand it’s my wedding day,” I emphasized the word my. “I just don’t think this is the right dress for me. I want something a little less,” I paused, searching for the right word. “Overwhelming.”

      I looked to Amalia for help, and with the smallest nod I knew she completely understood what I was talking about. She walked over to the sales associate that had been helping us and whispered something in her ear. I wondered if she was trying to come up with a plan to have my mother kicked out of the store.

      My mother let out an exaggerated sigh and downed the rest of her complimentary champagne. She then turned to a different sales associate and gently shook her empty champagne flute, indicating that she’d like a top-off. I shook my head and wished my dad could be here instead of her, but she had insisted this was a “woman thing,” and wouldn’t have it any other way.

      A beat later, Amalia and a dark-haired sales associate came strutting over to us holding a rack of more suitable and demure wedding gowns. I felt a smile tug on the side of my lips, while my mother’s morphed into a purse.

      “That one,” Amalia pointed to lace-covered gown and the sales associate quickly held it up and smiled, patiently waiting for my approval. I eyed the gown. It was nothing short of magnificent. There were slim, tank-like sleeves that were completely made of Chantilly lace, the neckline fell into a sweetheart style, but not too plunging. The rest of the gown was silk with an overlay tastefully covered in the same lace as the sleeves, and the train was even a manageable length.

      “May I see the back of the dress?” I took a step off the podium and walked closer to the gown.

      The back of the dress was low-cut. Stylish with a hint of sexy. I wouldn’t be able to wear a bra with the gown, but most brides had one sewn in anyway. From the waist down to the beginning of the train were about thirty satin-covered buttons. I put my hand on my chest, unable to speak for a moment. I felt a small stream of tears flow into my eyes as I imagined marrying Alex in that dress, and didn’t even try to stop them from coming out. I hadn’t put on any make-up out of fear that I’d somehow manage to smudge some on the dresses and owe fifteen thousand dollars in gowns.

      “I’d like to try that on,” I whispered through a sniff, feeling a slight rush of excitement. Amalia winked and smiled back. “Can you come into the dressing room with me and help me with the buttons?”

      Amalia touched her fingertip to her lips, pretending to contemplate this task. “I do believe that is a job for the maid of honor,” she pretended to brush some dust off her shoulders and laughed.

      The red-headed sales associate with the champagne bottle came back to fill up my mother’s glass. She slowly sat back down on the plush couch and crossed her legs. “I’m not sure how that will look, but by all means try it on. We haven’t anything better to do today.” She checked her Movado watch and then looked back up at me.

      I pressed my mouth into a tight-lipped smile, growing more impatient with her callousness. “Oh, if I’m keeping you, Mother, please don’t feel obligated to stay.” Before I could gauge her reaction, Amalia grabbed the long train of the sparkle disaster I was still wearing and motioned for me to follow her into the dressing room.

      Once we were alone, I let out a small grunt. This was supposed to be a wonderful moment, and my mother was nearly ruining it.

      “You’re mom’s kind of a handful,” Amalia muttered with wide eyes. Her phone buzzed in her jean pocket, but she ignored it.

      “Do you need to get that?” I answered as she helped me out of the first dress. I took a step back and admired the perfect gown I was about to try on and allowed myself to do a little dance in my bra and underwear.

      Amalia laughed. “Nice moves. But you should save it for your honeymoon. And, no, I don’t need to get it, it’s probably Michael. He knows I’m with you, maid-of-honor duties and all. I’m having dinner with him later.”

      “So this is really happening, then?” I asked as I held my arms over my head so she could help me into the dress. “You and Michael are officially dating?”

      Amalia stood on the tiny stool in the dressing room and helped pull the gown over my head, after which she motioned for me to turn around so she could get started on the exuberant amount of buttons.

      “Leave it the girl in the wedding gown to ask me if Michael and I were really happening!” she rolled her eyes. “I think your wedding is a much bigger deal than me and Michael going out to dinner.”

      “It’s a big deal!” I teased. “While I may be getting married at the age of twenty-five, I still find the idea of you and Michael having a genuine relationship more shocking.”

      “Well, don’t die of shock just yet,” she started. “We were taking things very slowly the past few months. Only seeing each other once a week, if that. Now we are up to twice a week, so it’s a bit of an improvement. We didn’t want to dive right into anything, especially after the heartbreak I put Hayden through.”

      I nodded, holding the top of the dress up in my hands as she continued to button. “You mean, after you literally ran away from him?”

      “Yeah, I’d prefer not to relive that brief act of insanity,” she looked down at the floor for a moment, her eyes threatening to tear. I wondered if any part of her still had feelings for Hayden. Or if she possibly loved him and just couldn’t admit it to herself. I put a hand on her shoulder and she shook her head while offering me a small laugh. She smoothed out her black, cable-knit sweater and held her head up higher. “Anyway, won’t you be twenty-six by the time you tie the knot? That’s not too young. Plenty of people get married when they’re even younger than that. Just not here in New York.”

      “I guess not,” I shrugged. “I wonder what it’s like out there in the real world.” I tried to imagine getting married in my home town in Rhode Island, and how different it would be. I would most likely be having an outdoor wedding, not in a five-star hotel.

      “You mean outside of New York?” she raised an eyebrow.

      “Yeah,” I played with my hair, twisting it around in my fingers. “I’ll bet it’s so much easier.”

      “What’s easier?” she chuckled while cocking her head to the side.

      “Everything,” I mumbled. I let go of my hair and let out a sigh. “It’s too bad I love living here too much to ever find out. I wouldn’t even consider applying for doctoral programs outside of a thirty-mile radius.”

      Amalia nodded and then diverted her eyes to the ceiling. She offered me a small smile. I could tell she wanted me to be happier. I was standing in a bridal boutique surrounded by champagne and wedding gowns. But my mother’s presence weighed on me too much to truly enjoy the moment.

      “But back to Michael,” she began with a heavy breath. “More than СКАЧАТЬ