Chapter 95: Chapter Ninety-Five

Gloria, Nora, Marge and two of the neighborhood nonnas who visited Marge on a nearly daily basis left the Donati household while Frankie continued to pepper them with his own ideas for what the dress should look like.

“Sheer!” Frankie yelled from the kitchen as Nora held Gloria’s shoulders from behind, urging her forward. “Skin! She’s got beautiful skin, so she should show it. Tight! Tight, sheer, and lots of skin. Oh! Cleavage! I want to be able to… Ow! Hey!”

Gloria looked over her shoulder and held in a laugh as Marge brandished the rolling pin and Frankie rubbed his head.

“Ma, what the hell?”

“You hush. She’ll wear what she wants to.”

“I know, I’m just making suggestions cause I’ll be the one with my eyes glued to her all night so maaaayyybbeee strapless with a plunging…”

Marge held the rolling pin up in warning and Frankie flinched hard. Nora succeeded in getting Gloria through the front door and into the waiting SUV. A few minutes later, Marge slid into the passenger seat and handed a gift bag back to Gloria.

“From your beau,” Marge announced, making all the women ooohhh and ahhh.

Gloria peeked inside the bag and quickly shut it back when she noticed the handgun. She pulled the card out and read it as Nora pulled away from the curb.

Have fun, but be safe.

Get something you wouldn’t mind me ripping off your body.

\-F

“What is it?” Marge asked.

Nora looked back at her in the rearview mirror.

“I think I’ll wait to open it later,” Gloria said, setting the gift down on the floorboard.

“You are stronger willed than I am,” Marge said while Nora sent her a wink, assuming it was something naughty she didn’t want to open in front of Frankie’s mom. She wouldn’t necessarily be wrong…

Only a few minutes later, they arrived in front of a cute dress shop with a big flowing princess gown in the window.

“So, what are you wanting to look for?” Marge asked as they met up with the two nonnas in the doorway.

“Uhhh…”

“Do you want to feel like Cinderella or Meg?” Nora asked.

Gloria scoffed as she ran her fingers over the piles of lace and silk hanging from dozens of racks that surrounded the small space. “Cinderella’s carriage turned into a pumpkin and the Prince didn’t even remember her face while Meg sold her soul to the devil.” Her eyes rose to meet Nora’s. “A bit too on the nose for me.”

Nora widened her eyes and sighed in exasperation. “Okay,” she drawled. “Devil Wears Prada?” she asked, holding up a sleek, form-fitting satin number. “Or, White Chicks?” she asked, holding up a dress completely covered in feathers.

Gloria laughed and touched the sophisticated number. “This one isn’t bad.”

Having observed the entire encounter with shrewd eyes, Marge gave a sharp nod. “Now we have somewhere to start,” she said before snapping her fingers. “Ladies!”

The nonnas fanned out and Nora gave her a smile. They both knew the women would have a dozen dresses for her to try on within five minutes.

It was easy to tell which woman picked out the dresses she would try on, even if their squeals of excitement didn’t give them away. Marge liked traditional. Though Gloria was not a ball gown girl, she continued to try to get her to put one on until the dress assistant finally started turning them away. Gloria didn’t want to feel like a cupcake. An outdoor wedding in New York in the heat of summer was not the place for fifty pounds of tulle. Lily, the nonna who lived next door to the Donatis, took the “sophistication” angle and ran with it. Each of her picks was a geometrical masterpiece that fit snugly but made her look like she had an important boardroom meeting minutes before the ceremony and wouldn’t have time to change.

Nora’s picks were clearly made with Frankie’s desires in mind. They were sheer, showed skin and plunged so deeply in the front or the back that Gloria knew she’d have to wear fashion tape unless she wanted to send the elderly Catholics to an early grave. Virginia, Nora’s mother, gave the biggest variety. It was clear she knew her own daughter would likely never wear a wedding dress, so she wanted to see what every style looked like on Gloria. She was grateful to her, though, because her picks, at least, allowed her to get a feel for the various fits.

The dressing assistant didn’t say much, merely let the other women chatter and give opinions. Her eyes, though, remained solely on the bride, with her finger touching her bottom lip and other hand on her hip. After the eleventh dress, the woman decided it was time she took charge.

“You’ve never thought about this, have you?” she asked, startling Gloria, who nearly fell out of the tight number Nora had picked.

“Uh, no,” Gloria said, sucking in a breath so she could shimmy the dress further down.

“You’re used to pleasing other people and not thinking of yourself,” the woman continued.

Gloria eyed her. “Are you a part-time therapist?”

The woman laughed. “In this industry? You kind of have to be.”

Gloria faced her, practically naked, and let out a sigh. “This wedding means a lot to them and…”

“Your wedding,” she interrupted.

“What?”

She took her by the shoulders. “This is your wedding. Not theirs. I saw the rocks on their fingers. They’ve had their time. Yes, they probably listened to their moms and aunties. They probably didn’t wear the dress they wanted but that isn’t your problem. If your daughter was here, would you want to pick out your dream dress, or hers?”

Gloria looked at the mirror and her shoulders sagged. “It’s… complicated.”

“It’s the scars, isn’t it?”

Gloria looked up. “What? I…”

The woman touched her shoulder where the bullet wound from Ivan’s compound was still pink and raw, then slid her hand down to the wound in the same arm from the hotel ambush.

“They want you to show skin, but you don’t want to show these,” the woman said softly. “It’s an outdoor wedding and you want to be comfortable, feminine but not sexy. You want to be beautiful.”

Gloria nodded with her mouth open.

The woman smiled and Gloria glanced down at her name tag, thinking maybe referring to her as “the woman” in her head wasn’t meeting the level of intimacy they were sharing in this moment. Delilah.

“I have a single pick for you. If you like it, you can go out there and find another that’s similar. If not, you can still go out there and pick what you want. But give this a try first, okay?” Delilah asked.

Gloria gave a nod of approval. Delilah turned her back and whisked around to show her pick of what Gloria may like.

“It’s a boho style, perfect for an outdoor wedding,” Delilah explained, handing it over to Gloria so she could feel the lightweight lace fabric. “The top is sheer and plunging so your man can be happy, but the long sheer sleeves will keep people from noticing the scars. A-line to show off your figure without making it impossible for you to walk and a sweep train so you’re not carting around thirty-pounds of useless fabric after the ceremony.”

Delilah helped her slide the material over her skin and for once, nothing was forced. There was no sucking in, no pulling at the zipper to get it to close, no immediate desire to get out. Gloria looked at herself in the mirror.

“You can sweep your hair up and add flowers, if you’d like,” Delilah said, illustrating what she meant. “Or leave it down for a more relaxed vibe.”

Gloria ran her hands down her arms over the appliqued lace flower designs as Delilah tied the lace ribbon between her shoulder blades, which fastened the open-back design.

“What do you think?” Delilah asked, stepping aside so Gloria could look at herself in the mirror without any obstructions. “Do you want to try on more of this style?”

Gloria shook her head, momentarily speechless. She cleared her throat. “No. This one. I want this one,” she whispered around the lump in her throat.

“Do you want to show them?”

She bit her lip. “No, I don’t care what they think.”

Delilah smiled big. “Then I’ve done my job.”

A few minutes later, Gloria stepped out of the dressing room in the clothes she’d arrived in. The women glanced around each other until Delilah stepped out with a garment bag. Marge smiled knowingly.

“Found one?”

Gloria nodded.

Marge stepped up and clasped her hands. “He’ll love it,” she said, even though she had no idea what it looked like.

“He better,” Gloria said, making the women laugh.

Nora’s phone rang and she stepped aside to take the call.

“Well, I’m pretty whooped. Home and dinner?” Gloria asked, setting Frankie’s credit card on the counter to pay for the dress as the women gathered their belongings.

“Uh, uh, uh,” Nora said, with a click of her tongue. “No rest for the wicked, Vixen.”

Gloria’s brows scrunched together. “What have you done?”

Nora flailed her arms toward the front of the store and ran through the door as if expecting a celebrity sighting. Gloria took the card back while Marge picked up the garment bag.

“Do you know what she’s doing?” Gloria asked, walking nervously toward the door.

Marge gave a theatrical shrug. She knew alright.

Gloria pushed through the door and her mouth dropped open at the sight of the black limousine Nora stood beside while she bounced on her feet and clapped her hands.

“It’s bachelorette time!!”

“Oh my God, you were serious about that?” Gloria asked, her eyes wide enough to feel her lids splitting.

Nora scoffed. “Hell yeah, and it’s not just us!! Let’s meet our contestants.”

Nora gave a knock on the door and then stepped back, gripping Gloria by the waist as she continued to hop on the balls of her feet. The door opened and the first woman to emerge was Beatrice, Nora’s girlfriend. She gave a wink to Gloria, a wave to Virginia and a roll of her eyes to Nora. Then came Rita, one of Nora’s other girls who had recently “graduated” from protection and was working some kind of assistant job with Accardi Industries. Tina stepped out. The Accardi fight club bookkeeper looked as though someone had blackmailed her to attend as she sighed at Nora’s theatrics.

Gloria smiled and hugged each girl. “Wow, this is a great group of…”

Then the last woman emerged and Gloria swallowed her words with a lump of anger. Polly smiled big and rushed forward to grip Gloria in a vice-like hug while Gloria’s arms hung limply at her side.

“I’m so happy for you!!!” Polly squealed. She pushed Gloria to arm’s length and Gloria tried to keep from rolling her eyes at the tears she saw on the woman’s face. “This night is going to be so fun!!! Let’s go!”

Polly scrambled back into the limousine, followed by the other women. Nora grabbed Gloria by the shoulders and shoved her forcefully toward the car.

“Can we bring the gift Frankie gave me?” Gloria growled, her eyes narrowing at the opening of the limousine door.

“Just trust me,” Nora whispered in her ear. “I brought her for a reason.”

Gloria reluctantly got into the back of the limousine just as Polly was handing out shots of vodka. “Where are you taking me?” she asked, her amusement dimmed considerably.

“Mirrors,” Nora answered with a wink and the other women, besides Tina, celebrated with a primal, girly screech.