Stella voiced her worries to Brenda.
“You know you can decide to leave if you want?” she asked rhetorically. “If he says something rude or smells bad, you can just make an excuse and go back to your room. It’s a free country.”
She’s right, Stella thought. I’m in control of my destiny.
Except, she didn’t really feel in control of it. Ever since she’d left her house on Friday, it felt like Stella was strapped into a car seat with child-locked doors and a brick on the gas pedal. For a brief moment this morning, she felt clear-headed enough to ask Sam out on a date, but the hour since had been nothing but regrets and doubts. Maybe she shouldn’t be in control of her own destiny.
Brenda cursed into the phone and then lowered her voice to a whisper again. “Mike is headed this way.”
“You’re at work? But it’s Saturday.”
“Deadlines wait for no one,” she whispered. “Okay, go to a shop and buy yourself a killer outfit, have fun on your date but feel free to ditch him if he’s a loser, and then call me tomorrow to tell me all the details.”
Before Stella could agree, Brenda hung up the phone.
The almond croissant was delicious but did little to curb the sudden roiling in Stella’s stomach. She was nervous, plain and simple. Calling Brenda had been a Hail Mary attempt at calming herself down, and she’d only done it because she didn’t know who else to call. Her mom hadn’t dated in almost sixty years, so she wouldn’t have been any help, and Stella would rather give herself an appendectomy sans anesthetic than tell Jace about any of this, so Brenda had been the only choice.
Still, maybe her advice wasn’t so bad. Maybe if Stella focused on one thing at a time, she could get through this day and date without rattling apart.
First thing on Brenda’s list: a killer outfit.
11
Willow Beach’s Main Street was small but impressive. There were no large chains or department stores, but nestled among the hardware store and a flower shop was a boutique. The store itself took up three storefronts with wide openings to walk from one room to the next. The first was a children’s clothing store, the second was for teenagers, and the third for adults. The rooms looked small, but the spaces were deceptively deep and held more clothes than Stella had suspected. Tables held jeans and shorts folded and stacked on top and moveable hanging racks as well as racks running the length of the walls. There were so many options, it was almost dizzying, so Stella narrowed in on familiar colors and avoided patterns. After half an hour of browsing, Stella took an armload of dresses, blouses, and skirts to the women’s dressing rooms located in the back right corner of the store.
When Jace was little, he would sit on a bench or chair just outside of the dressing room, whining every thirty seconds, wondering when Stella would be finished shopping. Then, when he was older, he would make his way through their local mall to the bookstore or the video game store to waste time until she was done. The last few years, he didn’t go with her at all. She didn’t blame him, of course. What did a teenage boy care about his mom’s clothing choices?
Still, his absence made the trip much less enjoyable, and now that he was off at school, Stella had a hard time seeing the point in going shopping at all. She could order her work clothes online, and she no longer had sporting events or banquet dinners to go to or dances to chaperone. Who did she really have to impress?
Right now? A monkish mechanic who, miraculously, had agreed to go on a date with her. From the look on Vivienne’s face, this could be Sam’s first date in years. The stakes felt high.
Stella put on a black pencil skirt and a white button-down blouse and walked out of her stall to look in the large mirror in the dressing room waiting area.
While she turned and craned her neck, trying to see herself from all angles, a wolf whistle emerged from the doorway. Tasha and Melanie Baldwin were standing there, colorful fabrics and patterns draped over each of their arms.
“You look incredible,” Melanie said. “That skirt fits you perfectly.”
“You are going to rock whatever boardroom you’re headed to in that outfit.” Tasha gave two thumbs-up.
“Actually, it’s for a date. Well, it could be for a date. It’s the first outfit I’ve tried on.”
Immediately, Tasha’s smile fell, and she looked at her sister. Melanie was still smiling, but it looked strained with a tinge of worry around the edges.
“You don’t like it?”
Tasha shook her head. “No, I love it. For work or a presentation. But for a date?” She winced and shrugged her shoulders. “It’s a little, um…uptight?”
Melanie nodded in agreement. “Who are you going out with, and do you know what you’re doing? That will help you decide how formal you should go and what shoes will be appropriate.”
“I’m going out with Sam, and I think we’re going to—”
The tail end of Stella’s sentence was lost to a high-pitched yelp followed by a flurry of questions.
When did he ask?
She could have asked him. Did you ask him?
What did he say?
What did you say?
I can’t believe it!
The girls were bouncing with excitement. From the little Stella knew of the family, she expected theatrics like this from Tasha, but the fact that Melanie was also bouncing on her toes told Stella this date must really be a big deal.
Stella
