A seamstress helped me design it. The finished skirt was stunning in a way I had not expected.
The first time I tried it on, I looked at myself in the mirror and felt like my mom was standing just behind my shoulder.
Then Linda saw it.
“I want to turn it into my wedding skirt.”
Colin’s mother had always been polished in a way that made me feel like I had shown up slightly underdressed.
She came by while I was doing a fitting.
“You’re planning to wear that to the wedding? Do you realize how many of my business associates will be there?”
I blinked. “What does that have to do with anything?”
She gave a short laugh and gestured toward the skirt. “It looks like a pile of rags.”
She came by while I was doing a fitting.
Colin, who had been standing near the mirror, stepped forward. “Mom.”
I looked right at Linda and said, “It’s my mother’s quilt. She made it, and it’s special to me. I’m wearing this to honor her.”
She did not back off. “And now it’s something that will embarrass this family.”
Colin said, sharper this time, “Enough.”
I lifted a hand without looking at him. “I’m wearing it, Linda. Colin and I both agree.”
“I’m wearing this to honor her.”
Linda’s mouth tightened.
She said nothing else, but the look she gave me stayed with me.
I told myself she would eventually understand why it mattered.
I had no idea how wrong I was.
