Page 36 of A Very Happy Easter

Twilight’s End had retained its character, and I led Heath through wood-panelled hallways to the bathroom beside the library. It was close to the back door and larger than it once had been because several years ago, Grandma Elizabeth decided to knock together the existing toilet and a large cupboard to make one big wet room with a shower for her dog. And the good news was that I’d be able to fit my dress in there.

“Feel free to wait in the library,” I told Heath as I scooted inside.

I loved this skirt. It really was beautiful, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t be relieved once I could finally hang it up in the closet at the end of the evening. I grabbed the tiny tab on the zipper and yanked it down.

Make that halfway down.

Why wouldn’t it move?

Shit, was the fucking thing stuck?

I tugged it up to the top and tried again with the same outcome, and oh, brilliant, now it wouldn’t pull up again either. I tried breathing in and wriggling the waistband over my hips, but the garment had been made to measure, and there wasn’t any spare room.

Hell, I was going to be stuck in this outfit forever.

The corset wasn’t as uncomfortable as I’d imagined it would be, but now it felt as if it was getting tighter. Squeezing my ribcage. I tried to suck in a breath, but it wouldn’t come. Rita Mae Brown once said, “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” I knew that to be true, but I still tried the zipper again, and it didn’t budge.

Now my heart was hammering, and I knew the panic attack was coming, but knowledge wasn’t power, and I could do nothing to stop it. Nothing but stumble over to the door and crack it open.

“Heath? Heath!”

He stepped out of the library. “You okay in there?”

“N-n-no.”

My legs wouldn’t hold me up anymore, and I sank to the floor in a pile of tears and chiffon. Heath swore under his breath and shouldered the door open, pushing me backwards.

“Okay, Edie. It’s okay.”

It wasn’t. I couldn’t even speak.

He held up a hand. “Little finger to middle finger, Edie.”

I touched as instructed, taking comfort in the familiar. He repeated the exercise over and over until I could breathe again.

“What happened?” he asked. “Did you run out of loo roll?”

A sob-laugh choked out of me. “No, my zipper is stuck.”

“You want me to get Salma?”

That would take too long.

“Could you just find some scissors? There’ll be a pair in the kitchen, in the drawer by the fridge, and I really need to pee.”

Instead of leaving, Heath produced a multitool from his jacket pocket.

“Your wish is my command. Where do you want me to cut?”

“I don’t know. I don’t freaking know!”

“Let me take a look, okay?”

“Okay,” I said with a sniffle.

“Ah, the fabric is stuck in the zipper track. Give me a second.”

He pulled and cursed and cursed and pulled and finally, finally the zipper released. My skirt began slithering to the floor, and I grabbed it because when I got dressed earlier, I’d figured I may as well wear Black Lily from head to toe tonight, and my lingerie definitely wasn’t for public consumption.