A Yellow Dress

She trembles. The flashes of yellow under florescent lights are blinding, but she is unaware. She is within the mess of fabric in a confined space.

A dressing room.

It reminds Leah of the times she used to enjoy shopping. Socializing. Smiling.

Now all the sounds give her a headache. They make her draw deeper into herself. They frighten her.

The dress is on. The yellow one that Jon has picked out. She reaches for the spot a little above the small of her back. The place you cannot reach in the shower. It is even harder while she trembles. But there is a zipper back there... Somewhere.

With the fright comes thoughts of Alex. Alex makes her body hurt all over. The things he’d said... The things he’d done...

Her fingers feel ice and she knows it must be the zipper. The zipper is ice and the air around her is ice’s breath. Somewhere, perhaps in the shop over, a baby is crying. Across the mall the annoying sound of a never ending alarm is going off.

People keep dragging their sneakers, and the occasional squeak over the ensemble of voices is strangely melodic.

The zipper breaks through whatever restraint was holding it still and glides up her back with ease. She knows Jon will want to see her in it.

He will like the dress. It is a cocktail dress to her mid-thigh. The bodice is fitted and the v-neck is low.

Alex would love this dress.

She pushes the curtain back and it screeches like a scream from a dry throat. There is one man out there—besides Jon—and a teenage girl waiting. They turn to look at Leah and she grits her teeth a little.

Jon sits on a bench just outside her dressing room. He is elegant with his ankle crossed over his knee. He is strong in his countenance, the firm set of his jaw. His blond locks are unruly on the top, and closely cropped on the sides the way she likes it. Those gray eyes unceasingly kind, though she keeps waiting for them to change.

He smiles when he sees her. She knew he would like it.

She is a little relieved because she can get out of this mall now. Get away from the constant conversation and business. The maze of shops, the constant need to move or be shoved aside.

“Well, how do you feel in it?”

Between the screech of another curtain opening, the—man waiting for his lady to present a new outfit—still eyeing her, and the constant babble of the mall’s occupants Leah nearly misses Jon’s voice.

Nearly.

“Excuse me?”

“How do you feel in your dress, Leah? Do you feel beautiful? Do the straps scratch your skin? Does it make you happy?” He smiles, shrugs a little. “You know the things that go on in women’s brains when they try on a dress, not me.”

Leah feels slapped and she doesn’t know why. Her eyes burn a little, so does her throat.

It hits her like a wave on the ocean—

Or a car going 70—

Or a truth she’s been hiding—

She hadn’t glanced once at a mirror.

Not once.

“Give me a moment...” She stammers to him. He nods his head, forever patient.

Leah darts back into the room, closes the curtain and looks at herself—stares into the mirror.

The yellow dress against her golden tan skin is like the white clouds against a blue sky: a subtle natural complement that you do not know you are seeing until you stare.

How long has it been since she’s worn a dress?

She spins around and watches it twirl around her like a flower being twisted by the stem in someone’s fingers. Something warm crawls up inside of her, it makes her smile. She could wake up every day in this dress and be happy for the rest of her life. She could spend her afternoon event with Jon thinking about the day and not how soon they would leave. She would be comfortable.

She feels a deep joy that spreads until she can’t contain it and she smiles again.

She can smile in this dress.

She feels like laughing, only the feeling is stifled by the thought that Jon never said whether he liked it or not.

She feels her heart sink as she pulls back the curtain for a second time.

The man is gone. So is the teenage girl and the people they were waiting on. It’s just Leah and Jon in the dressing room area. The sounds of a busy shopping mall have long since faded. Leah feels, in every sense of the word, alone.

“Leah, love, do you like it?” He asks again.

She frowns. “Do you?”

He pauses, chuckles and says, “I loved you before we walked in here and I’m fairly certain I’ll love you when we leave, regardless of what you’re wearing...”

Leah falters for a moment, then, perhaps gains the courage, “I feel beautiful, Jon. A kind of beautiful I haven’t felt in years.”

He smiles and her heart leaps. It catches in her throat and waits there.

“Then I love it.” He says, eyes dancing. “If you love it, than I do too.”