I thought keeping a promise would be the hardest part of my night. I had no idea that walking into prom would turn me into the center of attention for all the wrong reasons.
The dress smelled of cedar and the faintest trace of her perfume. I sat on the edge of my bed two months after Grandma Ruth’s funeral, the dusty rose satin pooled across my lap like spilled tea.
My fingers traced the pearl buttons one by one.
I could still see the way she looked that afternoon in late winter, pulling the gown from the back of her closet with shaking hands.
My grandma had laid it across her bed as if it were something sacred.
“I wore this the night your grandfather first told me he loved me,” she said, smoothing the satin.
Her eyes had been wet but steady.
I had promised. Of course, I would, and it wasn’t because I couldn’t afford another one.
***
My mom, Karen, knocked softly and came in, holding a small sewing kit, even though we’d finished the alterations a week earlier. We’d fixed the zipper, shortened the hem, and cleaned the pearl buttons.
She sat beside me and ran her hand down the hem we’d shortened together.
“The zipper’s holding,” she said. “And those pearl buttons came up beautifully after I soaked them.”
“You did most of it, Mom.”
“We did it together.” She squeezed my knee. “Your grandma would’ve loved that.”
I looked at the dress and thought about how it wasn’t modern, sparkly, or expensive. It wasn’t the kind of gown the other girls had been posting about for months.
It was something better. It was hers.
“Emma.” Mom’s voice was gentle. “You don’t have to go or wear that dress tonight if it’s too much.”
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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