Lizzy stared at the headdress. The fabric felt thin and barely tangible in her hands. The garment was still as beautiful as it was before, yet she had no desire to wear it. The flowery decorations had lost their charm, or rather, Lizzy closed her eyes to it. Along with her heart.
The folded design reminded her of the same pure, white flowers that were woven into the wreath meant for David's coffin. Although she had found it beautiful, the wreath seemed too much like an optimistic decoration for a tragic event. As a result, she associated the headdress in her hand with tragedy. She felt that she needed to get away from it. Yet, nostalgia greeted her at every turn. Her social media was filled with condolences and courtesy messages of concern. She replied as best she could, but found she didn't know how to answer some of the questions directed at her.
"Would you like to talk?"
She didn't even know what there was to say.
She'd have sat there on the edge of her bed moping all day had it not been for her mother, who called in every morning, forced her to breakfast, and tried to bring a semblance of normality back into her daily life. At night, Lizzy couldn't sleep. She thrashed about in her bed, restless and unsettled. Every time it seemed as though she was about to drift off, she would hear the screech of breaks, the skid of tires, and a resounding crash. These imagined sounds haunted her dreams with particular intensity after the funeral. She had no way of knowing how the scene truly played out. Helpless, she knew that there was nothing she could have done about it. For the first couple of days when she heard her landline ring, a feeling of dread would hit her. The sound was a crude reminder of that day.
One afternoon when Mrs. Richter had called for her, Lizzy found herself standing on the front steps before the door of the Richter's house. It was unsettling how a part of her almost felt like an impostor for being there. She was not a Richter, after all. And she never would be...
When the door opened, greetings were exchanged, and then she followed the frail woman into the living room. The place felt empty. Silence rang out in which none said a word. Sam wasn't anywhere in sight, so she assumed he was probably back at university.
Mrs. Richter spoke about the service and briefly about David's belongings and Sam's studies. They didn't speak about the uninvited guest. Mrs. Richter seemed to have something else to say, however. The woman pursed her lips, regarding Lizzy with sad eyes. "How are we going to bear with it?" she finally asked.
Lizzy didn't have an answer. She couldn't help but feel that Mrs. Richter was weighing her up; matching her grief against her own.
"You loved him as much as I did, didn't you?" she asked again. Her words stung, and instantly, Lizzy felt her eyes well up with tears. Then, the two women sobbed. Mrs. Richter excused herself to fetch some water. She came back with her hair fixed, looking more collected than before, yet her eyes still contained emotion.
"What are you going to do with the wedding dress?" she asked.
Lizzy shook her head. "I'm not sure...I haven't thought about that yet."
"You could keep it," she suggested, her tone sounding half-hearted. "You might need it again someday."
Reluctantly, Lizzy murmured, "I might pass it on to Shauna, she's our seamstress. I'm sure she could see that it gets a good owner."
However, the moment she sat with the headdress and gown in her arms, Lizzy found herself realizing that it was easier said than done. Niggling thoughts and feelings clawed away at her. She couldn't just throw it away. True, she did not want to part with it. Yet at the same time she did not want to look at it. So, with a deep breath, she placed it in a box along with the dress and an album. Along with her hopes, dreams, romance, and the wedding that would never be.
In the weeks that followed, the questions dwindled down, and life seemed to have moved on for most people. She was asked less about her life and more about her next update. Ever oblivious, others innocently came along asking for more frequent posts, even commenting on older posts. A contact had reached out with an invitation for her to be a stylist for a shoot, but she declined, finding herself shying away from the interactions she'd have to endure. Tactfully, she made it known that she would be on hiatus until further notice. The days dragged on in a laborious pace until weeks flew by and it became increasingly obvious that time stopped for no one.
Lizzy's usual fervor had dimmed considerably. It took a great deal of energy to simply try to get into the swing of daily life. Even Tarryn, who popped by after one of her meetings, had inquired whether she would be working on a new project soon, since Lizzy usually requested her friend's cooperation as a model. But, try as she might, Lizzy found inspiration difficult to summon. She remembered a time when she was bursting with energy. An energy that David had said attracted him to her. It felt like so long ago. Her thoughts drifted to a memory in which he joked about her obsession; back when it was still intense and fresh as ever.
"You really like dressing up and taking photos, don't you?"
"I live for it, I like pretty things."
"That's why you climbed that old tree? For fashion?"
"It was for the aesthetic!" she told him confidently.
He laughed, a warm reverberating sound that reached her heart. "Next time be sure to tell me so I can be there in case you fall again," he had told her with a smirk.
The memory stung.
"Hey, Liz, those catalogues, still waiting for it," a snippy voice called. Miss Brittany Granger, the owner of Flourish, was a tall woman with a regal aura and a penchant for red nail polish.
"Here they are," Lizzy said, gathering the magazines in her hand.
"Oh, I have a little project for you. If you have time," Granger said. She was straight and to the point like that. Whereas some would see it is blunt and overbearing, Lizzy appreciated her clear-cut approach.
"You're my boss, I have to make time," said Lizzy, offering a small smile. Besides, other than work, there wasn't much she was doing these days. She had taken over the retail shift, and found herself tasked with a few adjustments here and there. "What do you need?"
"There's a big shoot this weekend at the cove, arranged by Sane Agency. Along with a few other boutiques, we'll be dressing some of their models. Exciting, right? I want you to select from our new range and make sure we leave a good impression."
Lizzy furrowed her brows. "...Isn't Josh handling that project?"
"Yeah, well, something came up. And besides, you need something new to focus on. Your brain will rot if all you do these days is sell clothes and play around with your pencil—it's been a while since you had something new to show me, hasn't it?"
"I've been..." Lizzy stopped herself. She bowed her head. "I haven't slacked here, have I?"
"Fortunately for you, you haven't," her boss hummed, raising a delicate eyebrow. "Usually you're the one bugging me about taking time off to work on your own designs. While I don't miss that, I do think you'll lose your value to me if you lose the spark. It's passion for fashion that convinces clients that they need us, remember that? Yes, I have a team of designers, and yes as a creative director I'm quite amazing myself, but it's important that every one of you are in good condition. Flourish is an ecosystem."
While Lizzy soaked up her boss's words and strange analogies, Granger scribbled some information on a slip of paper. Lizzy thought about her personal sketchpad, the one with themes and dreams that laid abandoned in her desk. She knew that she could absolutely not throw away what she had built. No matter how drained she felt, she had to remember that her following was there, not just for her personal life, but for her creativity too. However, things felt different. Surreal.
Brittany Granger, however, had no care for her employee's inner dilemma.
"Here darling, time and place. And this contains the concept," she said, placing a file on Lizzy's desk. With that said and done, Granger picked the documents she needed and made for the door. Looking over her shoulders, she narrowed her eyes at Lizzy. "Passion for fashion, remember. Make the model look gorgeous and represent Flourish well. We're going to be credited for supplying them, after all. Make my brand a memorable one!"
"Yes, Ma'am."
Lizzy wondered why Josh would allow this opportunity to slip by. He was usually greedy when it came to shoots, or any task that would take him out of the boutique. Unlike Shauna, he couldn't stand being restricted to the same environment. However, when she saw his withered face as he walked beside her to the storeroom, she realized that Granger had something to do with it. Lizzy supposed this gesture was the Boss Lady's attempt at kick-starting her drive. The pressure was there, that much was certain.
That evening, Lizzy changed her surroundings from her bed to her couch. Legs crossed, she looked at the models’ profiles and read through the briefing. The destination was a sunny cove, a good hour's drive out of town. It was a recurring location, popular with those in the fashion scene. The theme was, naturally, a Summer shoot. All the suppliers and models involved were to be featured in a prolific fashion magazine.
"Passion for fashion, hey?" she murmured to herself.
Yup, the pressure was definitely there. Knowing Granger, this was a test...and a major leap of faith.
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