If Only...

APPLES AND ORANGES

"We're looking for a knee-length for her; nothing too flashy, but preferably a strapless." Stella's voice brings me back to this dimension, as she speaks to the saleswoman pointing to me, in the clothes store we are in. I didn't catch the name.

The petite woman smiles and nods to us, and then turns on her heel, disappearing behind a bunch of racks, all holding flashy and revealing dresses.

"See anything you like?" Stella asks me.

"Not really. It's been a while." I purse my lips, taking a stroll around the dress rack. I expect to see the dress I had been wearing four year ago, that night, but it doesn't appear. I sigh relievedly and look up when I hear footsteps. The saleswoman returns, holding a blue dress according to Stella's instructions. And I don't like it.

"Try it on." Stella says, though she isn't entirely satisfied with it either. I shrug and follow the woman to the back of the store, into the trial room. I change into the Royal blue dress quickly, and I have to say that I was wrong to judge. I look at my reflection in the mirror, and although I feel a little breathless, it looks pretty good.

Looks pretty good or looks pretty good on you?

I wave my hand at Scruple with a smile and step out to call Stella for honest judgement. She's good at those.

"Whoa!" She jerks her head back and freezes in her place. And then, that sloppy grin comes.

"I like it too, but it's kinda tight up here. I feel suffocated." I breathe out, and then feel the clamp around my lungs. Stella walks over to me, still giving me an incredulous look.

"You have a lot more going on up there than I thought."

I frown and look down, and then at myself in the mirror, sideways.

It was kind of hard to miss it.

"Do you have it on backwards?" Stella draws her lips in.

"No! . . . I'm a mother, Stella." I say in defense. Though I don't regret it. I mean, it doesn't look that bad, does it?

I try taking a 360 degree look at myself, but Stella stops me at 180 .

"Hey, chill. I meant that as a compliment. I've just never noticed that about you before. I thought your legs were the best part about you--that's why I asked for the knee-length, but now . . . " Stella whistles and wiggles her eyebrows at my chest, and I cringe, moving away.

"Stella!"

"Okay, fine!" She giggles and turns toward the saleswoman again, as I became self-conscious out of nowhere.

"Might I suggest something, miss?"

"Yes?" I ask in the mirror.

"I think a single strapped dress would do it. If you'll just follow me, ma'am." She motions to Stella and we follow. Stella pulls at my arm as we do, as I try everything to make space for myself in the front of the dress.

"What the hell? You're 'miss' and I'm 'ma'am'?"

"They're kind of the same thing, Stella." I mutter, pulling at the front of the dress.

"No, they're not! You call old people ma'am. I'm not old."

"You're not. Just let it go. It was probably just a slip of her tongue." I grumble.

Like yours.

"No, I agree with her. Even a 17 year-old will look older standing next to you." She snorts.

The woman halts in front of another rack of dresses, and gestures with her hands. Stella starts from one end and asks me to take the other. The saleswoman then leaves us to find something fit for me. I don't know if she meant that as a pun, because she seemed pretty sweet, but . . . I'm really worried now.