Brides

Mrs. Imogene Flounce (Day) passed out in the bathroom.  The hot water in the shower was cranked all the way up and the heat had been making her lightheaded. Her wedding dress hung from a hook on the ceiling where an evicted pothos once tangled with the curtain rod. The wrinkles, Imogene noted before hitting her head on the side of the tub, were reluctant to steam out. Dot Hart (Parker) and Betty Kilpatrick (Parker) took their silk and lace dresses to Mr. Zeigler, the dry cleaner and florist who worked out of his home, had a magic touch with lace and he could get out the trickiest of aging stains. Some stayed away from the tiny, flower-eaten house after his wife, Jacky, had her breakdown, but Dot and Betty didn’t mind a bit. Mr. Zeigler’s wisteria was in bloom when they pushed open his garden gate and they followed the step stones to the side door where, when opened, a silver bell jingled. Polly Leavengood (Chenoweth) had gotten married in a linen dress and she kept it up herself, often patching it with scraps of linen bags that she bleached and dyed with tea to get it that perfect off-white color. She had been married with flowers in her hair, country roses and chamomile. She was thankful she hadn’t dyed it black when she caught her husband cheating a few years back. The women had mothers who had guided them to these dresses, who slowed their hand when they thought of selling them or giving them away during financial hardship. It was tricky, often the dresses sat in hope chests and in closets. Some yellowed from age, others had been a moth buffet. The mothers said things like “well you never know” and “what if your daughter wants your dress?” or “You looked so beautiful in it.”. Soon, the dreams would come, and the dresses would be slipped on. The woods with its green, green scent would curl a finger and in the middle of the night they’d find themselves ankle deep in mud, in their best dress, standing in a circle with other women.