Always maintain and improve upon one’s appearance. Love is not, in fact, blind.
PEARL CHAMBERS, The Gentlewoman’s Guide to Love and Courtship
Sparkle was a boutique on Lookaway Lane. The shop only displayed a few select items that dotted what appeared to be a lavender-hued living room. Abby supposed the idea behind the sparsely populated store was for the shopkeeper to assist the patrons in selecting the right items for the individual’s needs. That kind of expertise came at a price, and that’s the reason she had never entered Sparkle before that evening.
In truth, she didn’t particularly have specialized needs, other than comfortable shoes and clothes that allowed her to move freely to shelve books and assist her mother. The collection of fancy slinky dresses seemed more than a waste of money—it was a waste of her friends’ time. But she didn’t dare water down their excitement.
“I cannot wait to see that figure in something that fits!” Heather said.
“I don’t know that this is such a great idea.” Abby halted at the door. “I won’t have any place to wear any of these dresses.”
Heather yanked her inside. “It doesn’t matter if you think it’s a great idea. You’re here now. And it’s not about being practical. That’s the problem, you’re too practical and again, I must remind you that you’re not seventy. You’re allowed to make a few mistakes yet.”
“Too practical? As if there could be such a thing.”
“We want our friend to come back to us.” Lia said. “The one who is full of light and love—not Epsom salts.”
“Why does everyone suddenly think I need a make-over?” Abby looked down at her oversized sweater, skirt with an elastic waistband, and of course her black leather shoes—in the middle of Smitten’s summer. “If I had more time in the morning, I’m sure I’d devote more attention to my appearance.”
Heather, Miss Health and Fitness, spoke up. “You’re underestimating what the outside can do for your insides. Healthy living starts on the inside, but the outside can definitely influence your demeanor. Ever since you lost your father, Abby, we’ve watched more of you go away. It’s like all you are is your mother’s caregiver.”
“It’s a full-time job, and I’m doing my duties at the library too. When would I have time to go out and wear a dress like these?”
“You can wear one of these to work,” Heather said. “You’d feel better about yourself, and then maybe you’d have more energy to go out.”
“Remember when we used to go to the movies and sometimes dinner after work?” Lia asked.
“That was before Daddy passed. My mom is already home alone all day long. She needs company.”
“We know,” Molly said. “We don’t want you to give up on your duties. We just want you to not lose yourself while you do them. You know, restore yourself a little. Even if you only wore the dress to church, wouldn’t it be nice to have something new?”
Abby picked up a tag and whistled at the price.
Julia, who was married to the owner of Jake’s Restaurant and owned a spa in town, came out from the back room.
“Julia, what are you doing here?” Abby asked. “Do you work here now?”
“Heather asked Allison if she could keep the store open late tonight, but she couldn’t be here. I was there and volunteered,” Julia said. “If I didn’t have a spa, a shop like this would be my second choice! Jake’s working late anyway.” She motioned toward the sofa. “Have a seat, Abby. Is there a particular color you like?”
“And don’t say brown!” Heather chastised.
“I like navy,” Abby answered sheepishly.
“Navy is good, but I see you in more of a peacock blue.”
Even the word peacock brought up visions of fanning herself and strutting her stuff in the library. It seemed absurd.
Julia had lived in New York City, so she brought a chic vibe to Smitten and to her spa. Abby’s vibe was more pragmatic. And to be honest, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone shopping for herself. Usually she was content to shop the Lands’ End catalog and circle what she wanted her mother to get her for Christmas.
Julia brought her a sling-back shoe that rested on a small, inch-tall square heel. “These will be easy to spend the day in, and you’ll feel pretty.”
Abby stared at Julia. Somehow she doubted that heels of any sort would make her feel pretty. Uncomfortable, yes; angry, maybe; but definitely not pretty. “Julia, I don’t want to waste your time when you could be at home. I’m not really a fancy dress person.”
“Abby, I’ve done more than a few makeovers in my day, and I wish I could tell you how they revive the soul. This isn’t about what you look like. Your friends know that you’re beautiful inside and out. This is them wanting to make you feel your age again.” Julia rubbed her tummy, which protruded with a few months’ pregnancy.
“Should you be out this late?”
“It’s nine o’clock. The restaurant is open until eleven. Come in the back and try on some of the dresses I’ve pulled for you.” As Abby stood, Julia slipped an arm around her waist. “Do you know how I miss a waist? You have to wear a waistline for me!”
Heather interrupted, “You may as well get started. We’re not letting you go until you’ve picked out at least two dresses and one decent pair of shoes—that your mother wouldn’t wear.”
Would Anne Elliot have been afraid of a new frock? Definitely not.
“But look at these slinky dresses, Heather. These are for honeymooners or couples on romantic getaways. They’re not for librarians with no social life.”
“Ah, but would the librarian have no social life if she dressed like a honeymooner?” Julia asked. “Did you ever think of that?”
“Wyatt Tanner asked her out,” Molly blurted.
“He did not,” Abby protested. “He asked me to coffee.”
“To discuss Austen.” Molly giggled. “We all know that Wyatt Tanner isn’t going to come off of one of his cliffs to discuss literature unless he’s noticed our favorite librarian’s beautiful eyes.”
As her friends surrounded her, each with a different dress in her hands, Julia offered her a shoe. Abby turned it over. “Eighty-five dollars!” She swallowed the lump in her throat.
“Abby, we know your supposedly non-orthopedic shoes don’t come cheap.”
“But there’s something to them. They’re sturdy! This is a flap of leather, and they want eighty-five dollars for it.” She looked down at her black, bulky shoes and in comparison the strappy, elegant red of the sling-back. They may have both been in the same shoe family, but they were entirely different species.
“This is perfect!” Heather held up a slinky violet dress. “It’s a Persian blue chiffon. You could pair it with a jacket and wear it to the library, then add a scarf and go out for the evening.”
“But I don’t go out for the evening, and Smitten isn’t exactly the fashion capital of the world. No one cares what I wear to shelve books.”
“We do.” Heather fluttered the flimsy dress in the air. “This would make your eyes look incredible with some navy eyeliner, and it would highlight the gold in your hair.”
“What about this one?” Lia brought out a dress in red that seemed remarkably similar to the choice Heather made.
“Aren’t these dresses kind of short?” Abby asked.
“They’re cut to the knee. You’ll be perfectly covered and able to bend at the library without offering any kind of show,” Julia said.
“You’re turning into your mother, do you get that?” Heather asked.
“Is that such a bad thing?”
“Your mother is nearly seventy years old. You’re twenty-seven.”
It was true. Her mother had adopted her late in life, and it always felt more like she had grandparents than actual parents. It wasn’t just that they were older—her parents had retired souls. Her mother was a quiet knitter. Her father had loved the kitchen and spent hours perfecting the best soups and stews. If her parents were a restaurant, they would have been a diner with American comfort foods and breakfast served any time of the day. Somehow being in the boutique felt like a betrayal of who they had raised her to be.
“I’m sorry. None of these things are me. I’d feel like I was trying to be you, Heather. Or even you, Julia.”
Lia spoke up. “Buying a new dress doesn’t make you someone different, Abby. Don’t deny us the chance to do something kind for you. We feel like you’ve just given up on looking forward in life.”
“I haven’t,” she said honestly.
“So is there romance in your future? Or just work?” Molly asked gently.
Abby couldn’t answer. She simply didn’t see marriage in her future. As she watched all the lovey-dovey couples in Smitten, she just didn’t know if she had that essence in her. Surely God didn’t expect everyone to marry. “If by looking to the future you mean walking down the aisle in a white dress, no, I don’t see that happening.”
Lia spoke up again. “Molly, Abby doesn’t have to get married to have a future. We just want her to know that she’s allowed to have a little fun in life.”
“Sure,” Molly said. “Of course.”
Abby grinned. Molly saw everything through romantic, pink-filtered glasses and couldn’t help but hope that marriage was in all of their futures. “Fine, I’ll try them on, but truthfully, I don’t know where I’d wear one of these.”
“What about to Hawaii?” Heather asked.
Ever since the four of them had become friends, they’d dreamed of taking a girls’ trip to Hawaii together. That was an adventure Abby wanted to have. Trying on the dress suddenly seemed reasonable.
She snapped the periwinkle dress from Heather’s hand and strode to the dressing room. For a moment she stared at her reflection in disappointment. She touched the tops of her cheeks and saw how sallow the skin under her eyes appeared. Her golden hair was starting to turn brown all over from her lack of sunshine. Taking off her light cotton cardigan, she noticed that her once-muscular arms were softer and paler than she remembered. She finally saw what her friends were telling her.
She slipped the dress on and twisted in front of the mirror. The dress was so light, it felt as if she had nothing on at all. The dress was gathered at the waist and had a convenient snap at the bodice. It was very modest, but as she turned to look at the back, she gasped. There was a giant triangle swath cut out of the back, through which she could see her bra strap. That hole would make her self-conscious even if she wore a sweater over it.
“What’s the matter?” Julia asked.
Abby stepped out of the small room and turned her back toward her friends. She heard them gasp as well. “I feel kind of naked.”
“We’re just not used to seeing you in a dress like that,” Heather said. “We’re shocked, is all.”
“You’d like more coverage, I take it,” Julia said. “Okay, completely understand—even though you can totally pull it off.”
“I’d like to go home,” Abby said. Even though she felt lovely in the dress, it embarrassed her to think people thought of her as an orphan who needed to be cared for. It was just deep in her psyche that someone else needed something more than she did.
“You look fantastic!” Lia said. “But we’ll find you something more modest if you wish.”
“I wish.”
Abby tried on many more dresses, and finally everyone agreed on a cranberry-colored silk with a cinched waist, softly pleated skirt, and a scoop neckline. It made her feel like a princess, and secretly, inside the dressing room, she twisted and watched the dress billow and flow. But in all honesty, she couldn’t imagine wearing it outside of the house.
“That’s the one,” Lia said.
Julia wrapped up the dress, along with silver ballet flats and the red sling-back heels, a gift from Julia herself, in pink tissue paper and a silver-handled bag. “Wear it well.”
Abby hugged each one of her friends for telling her a truth that she may have needed to hear. Anne Elliot had a new frock. And all was right with the world.