Page 14 of All About Christmas

The facade of the bridal boutique exudes a kind of timeless elegance. The plaster above the front is adorned with detailed, curling bas-relief. On top of the stately, high doors hangs a sign reading JANTINES DRESSES.

My attention is immediately drawn to the large window in the centre of the storefront, which is invitingly decorated with beautiful wedding gowns displayed like works of art. The delicate fabrics, lace, pearls, and other embellishments glisten in the warm light from the lamps.

Every time I walk past these window displays, I consider picking a random man from Tinder, just so there’s a better chance that I, too, may someday wear a dress like this.

Although picking out a gala dress for the Golden Televizier-Ring Gala has proven to be a challenge in itself.

Maggie, the bride who will star in the Christmas-themed wedding, is wearing a thick coat and her grey hair peaks out from under her hat.

It’s cold for October. She leans on her walker and looks at the window display with a dreamy look in her eyes.

“That one is beautiful, Laura,” she says to the woman standing next to her.

“Yes, that one is indeed beautiful, Mom,” she nods in agreement. “We can ask if you can try it on first.”

Gabriel manages to uphold his image as a cocky presenter by arriving late yet again.

The cameramen are also already at the starting blocks.

One of them—Mark—has started the camera rolling and points it at Maggie and her daughter, who are now practically pressed up against the windows to get a better view of everything.

We have decided to broadcast the wedding live on Christmas Eve. The footage we are going to shoot now will be a brief introduction after which we will switch to the ceremony.

Just as I’m about to suggest we go inside, Gabriel comes strolling in at his leisure.

He protects his neatly styled blond curls from the drizzle with a silver umbrella.

His face looks like thunder, but as soon as Mark points the camera at him, a grin appears on his face so quickly it’s almost scary.

It’s a kind of Pavlovian response: Gabriel has been conditioned to look on camera as though the corners of his mouth are being pulled up by invisible wires.

As if on cue, he walks up to Maggie and taps her on the shoulder. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Van Laren,” he says jovially. “How are you?”

Maggie takes a moment to turn around, and when she finally catches sight of Gabriel, she slaps a hand in front of her mouth. “My goodness!” she says, her voice cracking. “You look just like you do on television!”

Her daughter also seems mildly impressed. She shakes his hand and introduces herself.

The corners of Gabriel’s mouth still seem to be controlled by a puppeteer as he briefly introduces himself and explains what’s planned for today. Maggie already knows, but the viewers at home don’t yet.

At the bridal boutique, we are warmly welcomed with champagne. Maggie turns it down because she can’t drink alcohol with her medication, which the owner seems to find so terrible that she sends someone to the store for some Jip and Janneke non-alcoholic champagne.

The store looks even more beautiful inside than outside. Everywhere I look, mannequins are wearing the most beautiful dresses, in all colours of the rainbow. It seems they sell not only wedding dresses, but also gala dresses.

“Oh, dear!” Maggie’s eyes widen as she takes it all in. “It’s so beautiful in here!”

I can’t help but agree with her. My gaze lingers on a stunning black dress with a deep-cut, heart-shaped neckline.

The fabric is covered in sparkling sequins, and the skirt extends to the floor.

It’s as if every fibre in the satin is softly calling my name.

As if it were the ring forged in Mount Doom.

But not in a voice that makes your neck hairs stand on end.

I walk up to it and run my fingers over the soft fabric.

I sink into a daydream in which I parade down the red carpet in this gorgeous gown.

In which I feel elegant, something I don’t experience often in the colourful, oversized pantsuits I wear to the office.

A dress that makes Olivier look at me not as though I’ve walked through a rainbow, but as a sexy woman.

Wait, what? I don’t know what sewer my brain pulled that thought out of, but it is definitely not welcome.

“Do you have a special occasion coming up soon, too?”

I turn around. My gaze first falls on Gabriel, who is explaining something to the owner.

Judging by his hand gestures, he’s now saying something like “More tulle!” Then, I look at Maggie, who has walked toward me with her walker.

She looks at me kindly, and I realize how selfish I’m being. This is her moment.

“Oh, well, nothing special, you know,” I hasten to say. “The Golden Televizier-Ring Gala is in a week, and I don’t have a dress yet. But I’ll come back later.”

Maggie’s eyes become as round as saucers. “The Golden Televizier-Ring Gala? Have you been nominated?”

I nod proudly. “Yes, we have. We’re in the final three.”

“Oh, but my dear girl, then you have to try on a dress too!”

“No, I can do that later,” I gently dismiss her suggestion. “This is your day.”

Maggie waves her right hand in the air. “Pfft, well, no! It’s not my day.

It’s just a rainy day in October where I happen to get to pick out a wedding dress.

And it would be very comforting to have someone in the fitting room next to me while I do.

” The wrinkles around her eyes deepen. “Then it’s a bit like we’re shopping together.

I used to do that all the time with my girlfriends. ”

I bite my lip hesitantly. “I don’t know, though...”

“Ma’am!” Maggie rolls her walker toward the owner who is still talking to Gabriel.

“Maggie!” I say in an pleading tone, but she ignores me. Or she just doesn’t hear me; that’s possible, of course.

“That young lady would like to try on that beautiful black dress. Is that possible?”

Not much later, the dress is neatly wrapped in expensive-looking, wafer-thin paper and placed in a fancy box.

After trying on the fashionable work of art, I can’t help but conclude that it was made especially for me.

It accentuates just the right areas of my body, and somehow the idea that Olivier will see me in that dress makes me feel triumphant.

Especially after having to endure his shirtless charm offensive.

The downside of this one purchase is that my wallet has lost a significant amount of weight as if on a revolutionary diet.

Maggie stands, beaming, in front of the huge fitting mirror. “This one is so pretty, too,” she says.

Laura holds her hand firmly as she turns to face her audience.

“What do you guys think?”

Gabriel taps his chin thoughtfully with his index finger. “I think maybe it could be a little more bombastic. What do you think?”

“Hm...” Maggie trembles a little as she looks in the mirror again. “I actually really like the lace.” Her gaze flashes through the mirror to me. “What do you think, Holly?”

I smile. “I think you should pick something you feel comfortable in. If you prefer to go for a classic dress, that’s totally okay too.”

“I’m also a little doubtful about white. Isn’t that a bit hypocritical when my own daughter is giving me away?”

A surprised smile escapes Gabriel’s lips, but Maggie seems dead serious.

“I think if that’s the criteria for wedding dresses these days, no one would get married in white,” I reply. “Just put on what you like.”

Maggie strokes the pretty lace of the dress. It is a classic one: the sleeves come to her wrists and the neckline shows little skin. Modest and classic. It looks great on her. The owner has placed a beautiful veil on her head that touches the ground.

Maggie heaves a deep sigh. “How difficult everything is. I would actually like to get some air. Is that possible?”

“Yes, of course,” the owner replies. “It’s dry outside. Please come with me.”

Maggie grabs her walker and walks slowly behind the woman.

I watch her as she goes, and Laura comes up beside me.

“She finds it all very emotional,” she confides in me.

“She married my father when she was twenty. He died ten years ago. That’s sixty years of marriage.

As fond as she is of Olaf, I think it’s difficult for her because he will no longer be her only husband. ”

We both watch as Maggie sits in her wedding dress on the walker under the canopy of the bridal store, where the street is also dry.

I tilt my head slightly as I watch the scene. This could make a great black-and-white photo for a magazine.

“The beauty of love is that it’s one of the few things that can grow indefinitely,” I reply. “There is no limited amount of it. She can still love your father, as well as Olaf.”

Laura smiles. “I truly believe that her love for my father is no less now that she has Olaf, but I can’t help but acknowledge that I’ve rarely seen her as happy as she is now.

My father was rather old school and adhered to traditional gender roles.

I think she never really had the chance to develop as she would have wanted.

She often talks about how she would have liked to study art history.

” Laura breathes a deep sigh. “But my father always thought that was nonsense. Olaf recently gave her this huge book on Dutch grand masters as a gift. He understands her. I’m glad she can end her life this way.

It’s nice that she can still fill the years that many of her peers spend in loneliness with love. ”

“I can well imagine that...” My eyebrows creep together as I see a puff of smoke coming off Maggie’s enormous veil. Maggie herself doesn’t seem to be aware of anything.

I stand up. “What’s that?”

Laura follows my gaze and curses. I practically sprint to the door, closely followed by Laura.

As soon as we step outside, I let out a scream.

A small flame creeps over Maggie’s veil trailing on the ground next to her.

Some of the fabric has already melted away and the little flame is eating away more and more of it.

In the centre of the developing hole lies a cigarette butt.

Laura and I jump on the veil at the same time and stomp out the fire. The synthetic fabric burns like crazy.

“Oh, dear.” Maggie looks up, startled. “What the hell is going on here?”

“Mom!” Laura reprimands as she kicks out some smouldering scraps of lace with her right foot. “I thought you quit smoking!”

“I did!” says Maggie defensively. “I just suddenly got very nervous. I always have an emergency pack in my bag.”

Laura’s lips silently repeat her mother’s words, and she shakes her head. Maggie remains surprisingly calm under the accidental arson and that, too, seems to irritate Laura. “Mom, was this really worth a cigarette? You were almost set on fire!”

Maggie slaps a hand in front of her mouth and a girlish giggle escapes from her throat. She takes off her veil, and her eyes twinkle mischievously. “You’re right, honey. I want to wait at least five more years for that.”

Laura’s eyes practically bulge out of her head, and she slowly turns to face me. She looks at me incredulously, as if to say, do you see what I have to deal with? I slap my hand in front of my mouth to hide my smile.

“Don’t worry, honey,” Maggie says and clambers off her walker.

“I’ll just pay for the veil. Then that friendly store lady won’t have a bad day either.

” She grabs the handles of her walker and makes her way back into the store.

When we don’t follow her, she shouts, “Are you coming? There are still lots of dresses I want to try on, you know!”