Chapter 2 - Eight Months of Saving
Andre drove toward the shopping district without turning on the radio.
Nia sat beside him with the damaged dress folded inside a grocery bag.
He had offered to leave it at home.
She refused.
The store where she had bought it would close in forty minutes.
“We can find something better,” Andre said.
Nia watched the passing headlights.
“I didn't want something better.”
“I know.”
“No, Dad. I don't think you do.”
Andre tightened his fingers around the steering wheel.
Nia looked down at her hands.
“I liked that dress.”
Her voice trembled.
“I tried on six different ones before I found it. The lady at the store remembered me because I kept coming back to see whether they still had my size.”
Andre glanced toward her.
“She knew I was saving for it. She even put it aside for three days when I finally had almost enough.”
He remembered Nia coming home tired from the bakery, smelling faintly of cinnamon and flour.
He remembered telling her that she worked too hard.
What he hadn't realized was how carefully she had been protecting every dollar.
“I should have offered to help you pay for it.”
Nia shook her head.
“That wasn't the point. I wanted something I earned.”
They drove another block.
Then she said quietly, “Brielle knew that.”
Andre said nothing.
“She saw my savings envelope. She watched me count the money. She even came with me when I bought it.”
“Then why would she destroy it?”
Nia gave a small, humorless laugh.
“You really don't know?”
He didn't answer.
Nia turned toward him.
“Remember my birthday last year?”
Andre nodded slowly.
He had been working overtime that evening.
“Patrice said you wanted to stay home.”
“I wanted to go out with you.”
Andre glanced at her.
“She told me you were tired.”
“She told me you didn't want to spend money on dinner because Brielle needed new tires.”
He remembered sending Nia a birthday text during his shift.
He had thought she was disappointed about a canceled restaurant reservation.
Not about him.
Nia continued.
“And remember when Brielle took my silver earrings without asking?”
“Patrice said you two worked that out.”
“No. Patrice told me I was selfish for refusing to share.”
Andre swallowed.
The earrings had been a gift from Nia's late mother.
He knew exactly how much they meant to her.
“Why didn't you tell me what happened?”
“I tried.”
Her answer was immediate.
“You told me to be patient. You said blending families was difficult.”
Andre looked back at the road.
He remembered saying those words.
Several times.
He had meant them as reassurance.
Now he heard what they had allowed him to ignore.
At the dress shop, a saleswoman named Mrs. Landry recognized Nia immediately.
“Oh, sweetheart! How's that beautiful pink gown?”
Nia couldn't answer.
Andre explained.
Mrs. Landry looked at the grocery bag, then gently opened it.
Her expression changed.
“Oh, honey.”
She examined the damage.
“I wish I could save this.”
Nia watched her turn the ripped satin over in her hands.
Mrs. Landry pointed to the destroyed bodice.
“The cuts go right through the supporting seams. We could reuse some fabric, but rebuilding the whole thing would cost more than another dress.”
Andre pulled out his wallet.
“Then show her whatever she'd like.”
Nia shook her head.
“I don't need anything expensive.”
“Sweetheart, you don't have to choose the cheapest thing.”
“I'm not.”
But Andre saw her checking every price tag before she touched a gown.
Eventually, Mrs. Landry brought out a midnight-blue satin dress.
It had a simple fitted waist and a soft skirt that moved beautifully when Nia turned.
She stepped in front of the mirror.
For a moment, her face softened.
Then she looked at the price.
Andre noticed.
“How do you feel in it?”
Nia hesitated.
“Pretty.”
“Then that's the one.”
He paid while Mrs. Landry carefully folded the torn pink dress and returned it to Nia.
Before handing it over, she asked, “Would you like me to keep a little piece? There may be a way to incorporate it into something someday.”
Nia thought for a moment.
Then she selected a small, undamaged strip from the hem.
“Just this.”
Mrs. Landry wrapped it in tissue.
On the drive home, Nia held the blue dress in her lap.
Andre finally spoke.
“I'm sorry I didn't listen.”
She looked out the window.
“I needed you to believe me before there was something broken enough for you to notice.”
At home, Patrice and Brielle had already left for Patrice's sister Celia's house.
The hallway was quiet.
Andre noticed an empty hook where Patrice usually hung her coat.
He had spent years imagining that a peaceful home meant everyone was happy.
Now he wondered whether it had only meant that Nia had stopped complaining.
As she reached her bedroom, Nia turned around.
“Dad?”
“Yes?”
“Did you get the invitation to my graduation formal?”
Andre frowned.
“What invitation?”
Nia's face changed.
“I gave it to Patrice two weeks ago.”
Andre shook his head.
“She told me you didn't want me there.”
May you like
Nia stood perfectly still.
Then she whispered, “Dad, I saved you the seat right next to mine.”
