175

Bri

We slipped into Issac’s art room, and Wyatt set the box on the table and stepped back. I was only in Wyatt’s shirt and nothing else. I let it fall to the floor. They were both looking at me like I lost my mind, getting naked in front of Celeste. Glittering lengths of gossamer fabric emerged from the box. “Come help me,” Celeste ordered and my men obliged her. She had them each gingerly take the meager bodice of the dress, as Celeste eased the rest out of the box.

My jaw dropped. The base of the dress was sheer pewter-colored gossamer, but the details sewed into the fabric were more than a statement. Celeste carefully gathered it up and gilded my men to me. I ducked and emerged in it looking into the same mirror a day ago, when Isacc had set my affirmation. I’d get through this. I didn’t know how, but as buttons and pins began to be positioned I looked up into that mirror. The form-fitting mermaid cut dipped into a low V below my navel, the barely there fabric came around my neck in a halter completely exposing my back down to the dip just above my ass. Open to allow all to see what I had endured and what I fought against. The glimmering threads pulled at those faint memories and the girl who always saved me. I buried them deeper, feeding the wraith within me.

Clusters of wine-red bougainvillea and crape myrtle so pale a pink it shone white in the light, were embroidered with crystals and metallic threads that serpentined over the most intimate parts of my body. The adornments twinkled in the light, while bronze and copper boughs covered in pale silver beaded fringe depicted Spanish moss, swept down and around the dress draping over my curves and the folds of fabric, leading into the train that flared out at the bottom settling around the hem.

This was it, the end of them, the end of fear. I would be all that stood in the way of another witch suffering as I did. My goal, create a sanctuary to all that I was never offered. As I focused on it, the dress, everything came into focus. Beaded fringe and ornate blooms fell into place with each of Celeste’s tugs on the fabric. A promise of tomorrow, of a day when I became the creator of something new and undefined. Where I shed the skin of the vipers that put me here. I stood taller, hell-bent on a new beginning and I shut down the tears of my loss. The heavy weight of the beaded dress was nothing to bear for that vow. It was nothing compared to the atrocities I had faced. It was only the heavy loss of what I would bear each day in my heart for what I would be leaving behind that bore like a weight on my imprisoned soul.

The dress was a glimmering statement that was for sure, but it didn’t tell all the things I’d be leaving behind in my wake. The love or the life I’d lose to get what needed doing done. It was a beautiful statement of a new day and I’d be its icon, tomorrow came too fast. The glimmering beads dug at my heart depicting the ancient oaks and floras that called New Orleans home, it wasn’t my home anymore, yet I was fighting for it as if it was. Protecting my real home by leaving its hearth. Open to let anyone see what I had endured and what I fought against. The glimmering threads pulled at my heartstrings. I was nothing compared to what they wanted me to be but I’d be everything to those who mattered most to my heart. I’d be their protector, the place of solace in their hearts, if only in memory. I had made sure of it whether they would hate me in the end or not.

They peeled the fabric off of me, careful not to prick me on the pins and I solidified my stance. I’d always cherish the love they granted me but I wouldn’t sacrifice them like lambs to the slaughter of the world I would be entering. Goddess save me. I was the martyr.

Beau

The seamstress and her protege went to work on the clothing. The image of her in that dress wouldn’t leave my head. The way she looked herself in the eye in that mirror and found her strength and resolve. It was as if the yards of gossamer were armor and we were headed to war. In a way, I suppose we were.

“Are we wearing the hair down or up tonight?” He said, glancing at the dress before meeting her eyes in the mirror.

“Up.” Issac nodded and went to work. Curling and pinning her long dark waves with streaks of caramel into coils upon her head. Rochel showed up without notice and Issac put him to work on us. We’d never worn suits like these. They were modern but had a flair of old in the buttons and the way they were styled. I went first and received a baby smooth shave and a trim on the ends of my hair which got pulled up into a sleek man bun. I grinned at myself. I was looking mighty spiffy if I did say so myself. Rochell spun me to face Bri who gave me a wink and a sexy smile while she mock fanned at her face. I gave her a devilish grin and waggled my eyebrows.

Wyatt stepped forward and I vacated the chair. Bri scowled at Rochel.

“Just a trim,” she warned. Rochell blinked before smiling.

“Whatever you say, Miss Bri, it seems our baby girl likes her mountains of men to her tastes. Who am I to question that?” he said with a tease. Wyatt was visibly uncomfortable with the primping. “He usually only lets Bri clean him up,” I pointed out as Rochel rolled his eyes at Wyatt’s grumbling.

“Ahh well sir,” Rochel said as he massaged some sort of oil in Wyatt’s beard. “I can understand I'm not as fine as your baby girl over there but I bet she will reward you when you are cleaned up now stop your grumbling. Bri had her hand clamped over her mouth stifling laughter as Wyatt narrowed his eyes in her direction.

“Careful, Ma Sha, there are still things I have yet to do to you,” he warned. The room was then enveloped in hoots of surprise, exclamation, and laughter. Sug was red as a beet when I sauntered up to her and kissed her cheek.

“I like it when you blush, which means I still have work to do,” Issac tried to stifle his surprise as I grabbed a mint from the dish on the counter and popped it in my mouth. “You should see the things she reads, makes me up my game,” I said, with a smirk before disappearing out into the back garden. Zoey was there staring into space her lips moved but no sound emerged. Curious about this one. Her arms moved as if she was having an animated conversation with someone. It was then I realized how quiet it seemed for being in the middle of the city at noontime. Zoey turned her features altering as she caught me observing her.

She beamed a smile and went to stride inside but I followed her up the stairs.

“What was that?”

“I dont know what you are talking about,”

“Drop the bullshit, Zoey, who were you talking to?” She sighed.

“I’ll tell you what I can, over making lunch.” she let me know. So I followed her.