Jennifer Close - Girls in White Dresses

This is a Borzoi Book

Published by Alfred A. Knopf

Copyright 2011 by Jennifer Close

All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Alfred A. Knopf,
a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

www.aaknopf.com

Knopf, Borzoi Books, and the colophon are registered trademarks of
Random House, Inc.

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA
Close, Jennifer.
Girls in white dresses / by Jennifer Close.1st ed.
p. cm.
eISBN: 978-0-307-70041-4
1. WomenFiction. 2. Chick lit. I. Title.
PS3603.L68G57 2011
813.6dc22

2011003397

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents
either are the product of the authors imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Jacket image by Mayer George Vladimirovich / Shutterstock
Jacket design by Abby Weintraub

v3.1

TO M&D

with love

I sabellas sister, Molly, was married with ten bridesmaids in matching tea-length, blue floral Laura Ashley dresses. It was, Isabella believed, the most beautiful wedding anyone would ever have. She was twelve.

More beautiful than Princess Diana, her mother told Molly that morning as she helped her get dressed.

I need more bobby pins, her sister replied.

Isabella sat on the bed with her hair in a tight French braid. Early that morning, the hairdresser had teased and twisted her hair back, stuck babys breath in it, and sprayed it with an entire can of hairspray. From the side, it looked like a plant was growing out of her head. She kept touching it lightly to make sure the braid was still there, and every time she did, she was surprised at the crispiness of her hair.

Isabella, Molly said. If you keep touching your hair, youre going to ruin it. Isabella put her hand in her lap and watched Molly fluff her own crispy hair. Molly stared at herself in the mirror until her face got white. I feel funny, she said. A little sick.

Isabella walked downstairs, where she saw her mom running around like a crazy person and her dad walking briskly and trying to look busy so he wouldnt get yelled at. Molly thinks shes going to throw up, she announced. Her mom took the stairs two at a time to get to Molly. Her dad gave her a little smile with no teeth, and continued his pacing.

The Mack family had been getting ready for this wedding for over a year. It was all they talked about, all they thought about. It was getting tiresome. Isabellas parents wanted everything to be perfect. Theyd had the trim on the house repainted and the garden redone. Whats the point? Isabella asked. No ones going to see the house. Her parents just shook their heads at her and Molly rolled her eyes.

Isabellas mother and father went on a diet. They walked every morning and ate fish for dinner. When Isabellas dad ordered a steak or put butter on his bread, her mom would shake her head and say, Oh, Frank.

Whats the difference? Isabella asked. No ones going to be looking at you guys. As soon as she said it, Isabella felt bad. She hadnt realized how mean the words sounded until they were out of her mouth, which had been happening a lot recently. It surprised Isabella, how nasty she could be without even trying.

Isabellas mother hung the wedding picture in the front hall. It was the first thing people saw when they walked into the Mack house. If you looked at it quickly, it was just a blur of blue dresses and big hair. As the years went by, it began to look like something you would see in a magazine, in an article titled Fashion Mistakes of the Early 90s. Even the faces in the picture seemed to change. The bridesmaids began to look embarrassed to be caught in such blue dresses. But there was nothing they could do about it. They were trapped there, framed for the whole world to see.

Whoa, Isabellas friends would say when they saw it.

I know, Isabella would say. Its horrendous.

Before Isabella moved to New York, her mom made her clean out her closet. There are things in there that you havent worn in years, she said. Lets get it all cleaned out and Ill give it to the Salvation Army. She said it in an upbeat voice like it would be a fun thing to do. Youll feel so much better when its done, her mother added.

I really doubt that, Isabella said.

Isabella sorted through old notebooks and shoes. She threw out T-shirts from high school sports teams and collages shed made in junior high. In the back of her closet she found the blue floral beast. It was even worse in person. Isabella thought the color would have faded over the years, but it was just as vivid as ever. She held it up for a moment and then brought it to the dress-up chest in the playroom. Maybe her nieces would like to play with it. She shoved it in with the pirate costumes and princess dresses and forgot about it.

New York in September was busy, like everyone was in a hurry to get back to real life after the lazy summer. Isabella liked the feeling of it, the rushing around, and she let herself get swept along the sidewalks. She walked quickly, trotting beside the crowds of people, like she had somewhere important to be, too, like she was part of the productivity of the city, when really she was just going to Bed Bath & Beyond to get a shower curtain.

Isabella had decided to move to New York because she didnt have a plan, and New York seemed like a good one. Her friend Mary was moving there to go to Columbia Law. When Mary announced this, Isabella was floored. You got into Columbia? she asked. How?

Thanks a lot, Mary said. But Isabella knew she didnt really care. It wasnt that she thought Mary was dumb. She just didnt know when Mary had found the time to make a life plan, study for the LSATs, and apply to schools. Isabella had barely finished her final photography project senior year.

Thats not what I meant, Isabella told her. She thought for a moment, and then she said, Maybe Ill move to New York too. Isabella hadnt considered this before, but as soon as she said it, she knew it was a good idea. She had a roommate and a city all picked out, and that was something.

Isabella told her parents that she was moving to New York. She expected them to ask more questions, to want to know the details of what she planned to do there. But Isabella was the youngest of six, and her parents were not nostalgic about their children moving out of the house. Each time one of their children left, another one returned, and they had started to think they would never be alone again. New York sounds great, they told her. Well help you pay rent until you find a job.