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“Do it and you’re cool, do it and you’re cool,” Maya chanted.
Mom and I caught each other’s eyes, laughing.
“Okay, okay,” I said, taking the dress and walking to the en suite bathroom. The satin fabric rippled through my hands, and something about holding my mom’s wedding dress felt so sacred.
I was taken back in history, imagining the day she and my dad said “I do”. She was twenty when they married, ten years younger than I was now. What must have been going through her mind as she walked toward my dad at the front of the church?
As I slid the dress over my head, I pictured my mom getting ready with her friends. And then I turned and looked at myself in the mirror, speechless. It was like seeing an echo of my mom that day with off the shoulder sleeves, the pinched waist and the A-line skirt highlighting my curves. It wasgorgeous.
“Need help?” Mom asked.
“I don’t think so,” I called back, reaching behind me to hoist the zipper.
With it all zipped up, I took a final look in the mirror, smiling at myself, and then walked into the room.
Maya’s eyes were wide. “You look like a princess.”
Mom nodded in agreement. “It’s perfect on you.”
I did a spin, making the skirt flare around me. “Maybe I can wear it on my wedding day?”
Mom looked so happy. “You want to get married someday? After you broke things off with Wayne a few years ago, I was wondering if you wanted to be the cool aunt forever.”
“Why wouldn’t I want to be married?” I asked, smoothing my dress in the mirror. “A man promising to be by my side forever, for better or worse, in front of everyone I love? It’s sacred.”
Mom smiled at me in the mirror. “Which means you have to wait for just the right one.”
“Exactly,” I said with a smile. “Wayne wasn’t right for me, but maybe I’ll meet ‘the one’ someday.”
“You will,” Mom said confidently.
Maya said, “You can wear the dress anyway.”
I grinned at her, hugging her tight. “I like the way you think. Now we have to get to work in the attic. Let me take off this dress.”
After I changed, the three of us walked back toward the stairs. At the top, there was a ladder built into the wall that led into a dusty attic. My brothers and I used to love going up there in the winter because it was the warmest place in the house and felt like a secret hideout. But now, in the late July heat, it was downright hot.
I climbed up first, moving the trap door and then standing on the wooden floor and pulling the string to light the room.
Dust motes swirled in the light from the lone bulb and a small window on the side. Boxes were stacked along the edges of the small space.
Maya crawled up after me and looked around. “It’s like a haunted house!”
I held my hands up by my ears and said, “Boo!”
Mom tossed a box of trash bags up, and they made a loud thud on the floor, making Maya and me jump and then giggle. Then she passed up a box fan, which I immediately plugged in.
Mom came up, smiling, and said, “Maya, I think there’s a box of Liv’s old Barbie dolls over there. Maybe you can go through and see which ones you like.”
I scowled. “None of them have feet.”
Maya gave me a curious look while Mom laughed.
“Dad’s goats used to chew on them,” I explained.
“Serves you right for leaving them on the porch.” Mom said.
I rolled my eyes, still a little sour about it. But Maya went to dig through the box while Mom and I picked separate boxes and began the process of deciding what to keep and what to toss or give away. There were some really cool gems up here, like an antique flour sifter Great Grandma Griffen used and some old dresses she sewed from flour sacks for my great aunts. And much to my surprise, there were, in fact, a few Barbies still intact.