Dumped!

Dumped (25)

25

For the first time ever, I actually needed Rosie around. I was trying to decide what to wear for my date with Jeremy, and nothing seemed right. All I knew was, it had to be killer! 
I hadn't exactly expected him to ask me out on a real date - I still wasn't sure where our mutual amorousness was leading, so I'd decided to take everything as it came. That's not to say that my heart didn't skip a number of beats when he did. 

He had called me earlier and told me to be ready for about six thirty, which meant I had about four hours to find something that would knock his socks off. 

"Deana! What a surprise!" Rosie said excitedly, through the phone.

"Hey Rosie. Are you busy right now?"

"Nope! Not at all. Just hanging out at Scottie's. What’s up?"

"Okay. Well, um . . . I have a thing tonight . . like a . . . an event, and I kind of need your help deciding what to wear", I said, hurriedly. 

I was most definitely not telling Rosie I was going on a date; I had a feeling she'd run off to tell my mother and I'd had enough of that woman for thirty years! Besides, I hadn't even told Sheila or Fran, and I don't think I was planning to.

The thing is, the way I saw it, once I told people, that'd make it official, and then soon enough, when it came crashing down – as it was bound to – they'd all be there to watch. I really didn't think I could take another bout of humiliation like that, especially with the way I felt about Jeremy; I had a feeling it would hurt a million times more than getting dumped on my wedding day had. No amount of pessimism and readiness would be able to help with that. 

"Oh! You want to go shopping?" She asked. I could hear the delight in her voice.

"Well, if you don't mind", I said, hesitantly. I wasn't sure it was such a great idea anymore. Rosie could be a very annoying shopper; that was the one thing she had in common with Fran. And don't even get me started on my mother. She was a whole other story; I'd only been shopping with her once in my life – I wasn't exactly a shopaholic anyway – and it was almost traumatic. 

"I'll meet you at Paseo Nuevo in twenty minutes.”

"Great!" I said, with a strained breezy voice.

An hour later, we were at Bebe, scanning the clothes racks. We'd been to a few other shops, but Rosie kept saying ‘not good enough’. I just hoped that all the distress that I was going through would have a marvelous end result. Then, I'd feel entirely accomplished.

I pulled out a black and cream plunge halter neck dress and held it up. "I think this is nice", I said aloud, holding it away from myself.

Rosie snorted. "Deana, the back of the dress has to be extremely amazing. Even if the front is plain and simple, the back of the dress is key."

That sounded way off. "Rosie, I'm not so sure about that", I said slowly.

"Dee, I promise you, you're going to look amazing", she said, heading out of the shop.

I groaned inwardly and crossed my fingers tighter. All I could really do was hope.

We went into Chico’s, Cache, Macy’s and Nordstrom until, Rosie finally let out a high-pitched squeal at Juicy Couture. I saw some other shoppers staring at us, irritation and disdain spread across their faces.