Julyn, Jenny, Corey and myself had just finished the delicious wedding luncheon of our dear friends Jamie and Dan, catered by the most expensive restaurant in town. Jamie was one of the most beautiful brides I've ever seen, and Dan was radiant with joy. It proved to be a lovely dinner: Jules and I, being naturally theatrical and a bit flamboyant, serenaded our table-partners with the old standards of Nat King Cole, Dean Martin, Ella Fitzgerald and Frank Sinatra while Jenny and Corey sat at the end of the table, giggling together about our musical antics and commenting on the intricate, silvery beadwork on Jamie's bodice. And now, we had two hours to kill before the reception was to begin. What to do?
Jenny suggested we drive to the nearest Borders and peruse the shelves. "That sounds like a great idea! What's better than spending a pleasant, drowsy afternoon in a fabulous bookstore? Let's go," I agreed. So we left the restaurant and headed down the street. Five minutes later, we were parking our cars at the strip mall where our Borders was located, neighboring our town's only Old Navy clothing store.
Julyn, recently employed by Old Navy, advertised their latest special to our quartet, "We're having an exceptional sale on outerwear this week. Everything's 50% off." Then, whetting the impeccable taste for fashion Corey and I share, she smiled and teased, "Oh, and boys, our argyle is to die for! And, the scarves that came in the new shipment are great, too. Wanna go in for just a minute? I need to check my schedule, anyway."
"We have to find a way to get Jenny to try this on. It's perfect for her. Look at the cut, and the buttons! Oh! The the lining! -- that's a superb shade of fuschia! It'd pair beautifully with that black handbag up there. Where did those girls go? They're not at the clearance rack, are they?!"
"You're not kidding. It is beautiful," Corey agreed. "Jenny! Jules! Get over here, and bring a couple of pretty scarves with you. We've got a little something we want Jenny to try on."
I could tell Jenny wanted that coat as soon as she saw it. I sensed we had to find a way to convince her she had to get it as soon as she started slipping her arms through the sleeves. I knew we couldn't leave the store without that overcoat in a sack on Jenny's arm as soon as we had buttoned it up. It fit her perfectly. Corey, Jules and I were speechless for a moment (a feat in and of itself), and then Julyn started tying a green, sparkly scarf around Jenny's neck.
"That scarf doesn't match the dress I'm wearing," Jenny tried to protest.
"That doesn't matter at all," Jules asserted. "You can wear whatever color of scarf you want with this coat, and no one can tell what you're wearing under it. This camel color is perfect -- it'll match anything. Now, take your ponytail out and let your hair down."
"Jules is right," Corey said. "And it looks great when you fluff the scarf up like that."
"Here," I added, "try this bag. No, it's not too big. Yes, it's black. No, it doesn't have to match. It's just right. Trust me."
Once we had Jenny all spiffied up and accessoried, we took her to a mirror to see our handiwork. The moment she saw herself is one of the priceless memories I'll always keep tender. Jenny is not the kind of girl who wears make-up. She doesn't really agonize over what she's going to wear (she works as a teacher's aid in the schools, so how fancy does she need to be?). I don't think she really considers herself "pretty." I watched Jenny as she appraised the image in the mirror. The slump of her shoulders straightened up. The shuffle of her feet took on a more confident step. Her smile put the overhead flourescent light to shame, and you could see in her eyes that she knew she looked good.
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