Chapter 3 - Eight Months of Saturdays
The first department store had nothing Simone liked.
The second had a white dress that was too tight across her shoulders.
At the third, she found one that fit.
It was simple, with short sleeves and a soft pleated skirt.
The saleswoman brought it to the fitting room.
Simone changed quietly.
When she stepped outside, James stood from the waiting chair.
"Well?"
She looked at herself in the mirror.
"It's nice."
He watched her face.
"But?"
Simone touched the skirt.
"It's not mine."
James understood what she meant.
The original dress had represented hundreds of small decisions.
Every Saturday she'd refused to buy lunch with her coworkers.
Every pair of shoes she'd decided she didn't need.
Every extra shift she'd taken during the holidays.
All because she wanted one thing she could look at and say she had earned herself.
James stepped closer.
"Tell me something. Why didn't you ask me to buy the first one?"
Simone looked down.
"You already paid for my graduation fees and college application stuff."
"That's what parents do."
"I know."
She hesitated.
"I just wanted one thing nobody could say they gave me."
James felt the sentence settle between them.
"Has somebody been saying that?"
Simone didn't answer immediately.
Then she gave him a tired look.
"Come on, Dad."
He waited.
She turned toward the mirror.
"Mia says I only get things because you feel guilty about working so much."
James frowned.
"She's said that?"
"More than once."
Simone touched the sleeve of the new dress.
"Celeste says Mia knows how to appreciate nice things, but I make everything emotional."
James remembered a dinner six months earlier.
Mia had received her expensive handbag from Celeste.
Everyone had gathered around the table to admire it.
That same evening, Simone had come home carrying a secondhand blazer she'd found for a college interview.
Celeste had laughed at the color.
James had barely noticed.
He had been answering work messages.
Now he remembered Simone disappearing upstairs before dessert.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
She met his eyes in the mirror.
"I did."
The answer was quiet.
James felt ashamed.
"When?"
"At Christmas. And after my birthday."
He searched his memory.
She had complained that Mia kept taking her things.
He'd told her to avoid arguing.
She had said Celeste treated them differently.
He'd told her blending families took patience.
He remembered those conversations now.
He also remembered how quickly he'd ended them.
"I thought you were all having normal disagreements," he admitted.
"That's what you always said."
Simone went back into the fitting room.
James remained outside.
There was nothing useful he could say through the door.
When she emerged again, she'd changed back into her jeans.
She carried the new dress over one arm.
"I think I'll take this one."
James nodded.
"Are you sure?"
She considered it.
"Yeah. I like it."
He smiled.
"Then that's the one."
At the checkout, Simone took out her phone.
"I can pay for part of it."
James shook his head.
"No."
"Dad—"
"Simone, let me do this."
She hesitated.
Then she put her phone away.
"Thank you."
On the drive home, James asked about the dress she'd bought with her own savings.
She told him she'd found it online in January.
It had cost two hundred and forty dollars, plus alterations.
She'd kept the receipt inside the original garment bag.
"Do you still have it?" James asked.
"The receipt?"
She nodded.
"It's in my desk."
"Keep it. We need a clear record of what Mia destroyed."
Simone glanced toward him.
"Are you going to make her pay?"
"She needs to take responsibility. Just like I need to take responsibility for burning her handbag."
Simone was quiet for several blocks.
Then she asked, "Do you regret doing it?"
James looked through the windshield.
"Yes."
She appeared surprised.
"Even after what she did?"
"I regret destroying something that wasn't mine. I don't regret standing up for you."
Simone thought about that.
"Everybody was so worried about her bag."
"I know."
"Nobody even asked what my dress cost."
James turned toward her.
"How much it cost wasn't what made it important."
Her eyes filled.
He continued.
"You worked for it. You chose it. It was yours."
Simone blinked hard and kept driving.
When they returned home, she hung the new dress safely inside her bedroom closet.
Then she opened her desk drawer and removed the receipt for the old one.
She placed it on the dresser beside her graduation cap.
For several moments, she stared at the paper.
Eight months of work had ended in a pile of ashes.
May you like
But something else had changed that evening.
Her father had finally listened without telling her she was imagining things.
