Permanent Bliss by BJ Harvey Read Free Book Online

you’re still alive that is.” I end the call, taking a deep breath to steady my nerves.
    If anything, at least my day is about to get interesting.
     
    Mac
    Two glasses of wine, and half an hour standing like a plastic mannequin being poked and prodded by the dressmaker as I have my final dress fitting, and you’d think I’d be agitated. But I’m not. I’m on cloud fucking nine.
    With the moms and Kate, we’ve had the trial run for our hair, a boozy lunch, and now our final dress fittings for the ‘wedding of the year’ as my mother-in-law is calling it. I’m relaxed, happy to be sharing this experience with the three important women in my life, and wishing the next week to fly by.
    Everything is arranged: the church, the reception, the rehearsal dinner, the flowers, the cake, the ceremony, the suits, the kids, and finally, my dress.
    “Where’s my bra?” Kate shrieks from the dressing room at the back of the shop.
    “You can’t wear a bra with your dress. When we changed the straps you had a VBL, so we decided you had to go without.”
    “Where was I when this happened?”
    “Probably drunk,” I mutter under my breath.
    “I heard that!”
    “I know. I wanted you too!” I retort with a smirk.
    “What’s a VBL?” Daniel’s mother Jenny asks, her face perplexed. “I’ve heard of a lot of things, especially with Makenna as a daughter in law, but never VBL.”
    My mom, bless her cotton socks, leans over the couch and places her hand on Jenny’s forearm. “Visible breast line.”
    “Bra line, mom. Bra line. No one says breasts anymore. Boobs, jugs, tits, knockers, sweater puppies, hooters, the twins, traffic lights, bazoongas. Boobs, mom.” A lifetime of freakouts has made me an expert of holding my breath and speaking quickly.
    The moms start hooting with laughter, and Kate and I join them. I realize how ridiculous my rant sounded. Anyone would think we were a bunch of giggling teenage girls laughing about boys.
    “Turn around, Makenna,” instructs the dressmaker. I spin around and freeze in place as I see the whole package in the floor to ceiling mirror.
    The whole damn package.
    Dress, hair, everything. Holy fuck, I’m getting married.
    My eyes go wide as I catch Kate’s face behind me. Her eyes glisten with tears as she covers her mouth with her hand and just stares at me. It’s a look of shock and awe. Worried that something is wrong with me, I look at the moms who are both dabbing their eyes with handkerchiefs that I didn’t know middle-aged women even carried around anymore.
    “What?” I ask, anxious as hell, unable to tear my eyes away from the sight in front of me.
    “Breathtaking,” Jenny whispers hoarsely, her voice tight with emotion.
    “Exquisite,” my mom spits out through her tears.
    I lock eyes with Kate, not needing words to tell her how I’m feeling and what I need in that moment. “Hon, you are the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”
    I can’t hold back a grin as I slowly run my hands over the satin-smooth, built in corset of my dress, down to my hips. I gently move my hips side to side, watching the gentle sway of the material in amazement. If ever I was to have a dream wedding dress, a childhood fantasy of what I would look like as one of those saccharine-sweet Barbie brides we all thought we’d become, this wouldn’t be it.
    It’s one hundred times better.
    The dress has short, capped organza sleeves, designed to un-sluttify the built in satin-boned corset that frames my torso (and my sweater puppies) with a silk ribboned lace-up back which leads into a floor-length sweeping satin skirt that kisses the floor and unfortunately hides the to die for silver glitter lattice sandals. Their six inch heel lifts me up to match Daniel’s six foot two inch heights.
    “No freakout,” I whisper as I look at Kate once more. My best friend who has always been there for me. Through thick and thin, through my slutdom and my realization that the man I’m about to marry