"Lillian, how many times do I have to say that I'd love to hire you as my professional dresser? You've always been good at that sort of thing, dressing, making clothes, being mommy-ish. And you would still be in the wedding pictures. The photographer is taking shots of the entire wedding day and one might be in the magazine. Especially, if you dress right, not in those old rags you wear to every other event that you attend."
As always, my perfect model sister Abigail Jane Westwood, aka. Abbi West knew exactly what to say to make me feel as inferior as possible. "I would have had you in the wedding, but Monique just doesn't make dresses that would look good on you. You may be tall but your hips and breasts make it impossible to make the bridesmaids dress look good. By the way what do you plan on wearing?" UHHH, she is sooo self-centered. "I plan on wearing the same vintage lace gown I showed you last week, Abbi," I replied exasperated.
"Why don't you buy something else? I saw the perfect dress in Designer Wearhouse the other day."
"Abbi, I know that you have a hard time understanding that I love my job, even though I don't get paid much, but I do. I love my low paying position at The Learning Train. I can't afford anything from that store, unless you are willing to help me pay for it."
In her ever so beautiful way, my sister rolled her eyes and said "I'm not helping you. I told you, you are never going to freeload off of me."
I have never, ever wanted her to support me. "Abs, I've never asked you to support me or help me in any way, but this is your wedding. If you want me to wear what you want, I need help. It was hard enough paying for the plane ticket and hotel," I said. It was hard, almost all of my savings had gone to getting me to Barcelona and a room in the hotel where all of our meager family was staying.
"Lillian, I told you I hate when you call me "Abs". Please stop it before I tell Uncle Frank and Aunt Abigail. You know how much they hate it when you make fun of me," she whined with a smile.
Uncle Frank and Aunt Abigail were my father's brother and sister-in-law and had raised the two of us after our parent's went to prison for abusing us and killing our little brother John. They were absolutely enamored of Abbi and treated her like the daughter they never had. Their four sons protected her at all costs. I was there but, I had to fend for my self.
You see Abbi is 5'10" tall, blonde with ice blue eyes and a perfect body. I am 5'9" with red hair, green eyes large breasts, hips, and thighs. I'm not fat but, I could not be a model. All Abbi has ever wanted to do is to be a model. That is all she has ever worked for. Sometimes I understand her desire to rebel against what happened to us. But it makes me sad that she lies about the four, inch long scars on her back. She should be proud that she survived having our cracked out parents try to stake a sheet to her back.
I've been sewing since I was four years old. Our temporary foster mom taught me how. She said she was teaching me to sew the good times together and cut out the bad. Sewing was very comforting to me while I was growing up. Living with my aunt and uncle I learned to love photography and drawing. Those became my hobbies, while they were carting Abbi to beauty pageants, their sons to sports, I was at home playing with a camera my grandmother found for me at a rummage sale (our grandparents had a little more affection for me, but everyone was still attached to Abbi) or drawing in the sketch books that I bought with the money I earned doing minor sewing jobs for the people in our neighborhood. Let's get back to our story.
"Abbi, is the only reason you called me here, directly from the airport after a 16 hour flight, to criticize me? I would love to get to the hotel and get some sleep. I have a lot of plans for tomorrow since it is the only day I'll have free for doing these things."
"No. I wanted to make sure that you know to behave yourself during the pre-wedding festivities. And to ask you to pleeease be my dresser on Saturday," she said the latter half with her big puppy dog eyes and baby voice that she knows gets to me.
"Fine. I won't tell Juan and his family about how you fell off stage in your first beauty pageant and showed the judges the where a piece of stage equipment scratched your butt. And yes, I'll help you dress on Saturday. May I please go get some sleep now?"
More eye rolling, "Yes. Go. Sleep. Enjoy what ever it is you plan on doing tomorrow." I left gratefully and went to the hotel.
My day got better from there. They accidently double booked my room and I had to be upgraded to a suite, free of charge. I took advantage of the terrace and offer of a free bottle of wine. Dinner from the restaurant was superb. And the light from the sunset was perfect for sketching. I drew a wedding dress with out even noticing what I was doing. When I looked down I realized that is was the wedding dress of my dreams. It had a simple a line skirt with a scoop neck bodice and long sleeves. The back came down under the shoulders. The sleeves were long and flowing. The neck, waist, and bodice were decorated with golden embroidery. It was breath-taking.
The next day I took my camera, my sketch kit, and the few Euros I had and went wandering. As I was walking down a small street I saw a man deeply involved in painting a portrait. I asked if I could snap a few photos while he worked. He grunted a yes and I began snapping away. I started over his shoulder and worked my way around catching glimpses of his face but, never the whole picture. Until he looked up. When he looked up my breath was lost. I was looking into the most handsome face I'd ever seen. Black hair, chocolate eyes, an aristocratic nose, and deep skin were accentuated by luscious lips. Our eyes met for a moment and I raised my camera, took one last shot, and prepared to flee. As I turned he took my arm and asked, "Como te llama? What is your name?"
It took me a full few seconds to catch my breath and answer "L-L-Lillian Ann Westwood."
He gave a brief chuckle and said, "Well, Lillian Ann Westwood, how about I, Angel Pedro Vega de la Cruz, take you to dinner tonight?"
My mind badgered me with a "Say yes, stupid" and eventually my mouth said "I'd love that."
"Meet me in front of the Angels Hall Cathedral at 7:00 and wear a nice dress. I have some place very special I want to take you."
"Okay. I'll meet you there," I managed to get out before turning and running. It was already 4:00 and I needed to shower, do my hair and make up, and figure out what to wear. I nicest dress I had was the one I brought was for Abbi's wedding and my other nice dresses were day dresses for the pre-wedding events I was being forced to attend as one of the few bride's relatives.
As I was walking back to the hotel I passed a vintage shop that was displaying a tux in the window. Inspiration struck. I ran in and haggled the sales lady down to a reasonable price for the tux and silk napkin. I always had needles and thread with me, I never knew when I was going to pop a button or rip a seam. I got back to the hotel just in time to cut the napkin in half and sew them to the tux jacket so that they covered most of my breasts and bra.
As I stepped out of the shower I heard a knock on the door. I answered it to discover the hotel hair dresser at my door. "How can I help you?" I asked.
"I am Angelina, the hair dresser here and I am here to make you over. I have also brought some jewelry for you," replied the diminutive woman.
"But, who's paying for this? I don't have the money to pay you," I replied.
She shook her finger at me and said "You don't worry about that. I am being paid by someone else and they wish to remain a secret. Now let us see what you are wearing so I can do you up beautifully." She pushed me back into the suite and found my out fit on the bed. "Que belisima. How beautiful! Did you add the extra fabric to the lapels? De acuerdo. Of course you did. It is genius. Now sit down so I can do your hair and make up. Maribel will be up in a second to do your nails."
She pushed me into a chair in front of the make up mirror in the dressing room. "Your hair is beautiful I know exactly what to do with it," and she did exactly what she felt like as Maribel arrived and gave me my first manicure. When Angelina was finished my hair was back in a luxurious braided knot with a few tendrils curling down my face, neck, and back. "Now take off your robe so I can do your make up. I want to match it all the way down to where your jacket will hit," she said.
"I can't," I replied.
"Go on don't be shy. I've seen women undressed before. You will be nothing new. Go on, undress," she said.