Who: Bess Zeller and...her mom?
What: An invitation!
Where: Her mother's dress shop!
When: Sunday afternoon!



She pushed the white taffeta to either side of her as the hanging wedding dresses had created nearly a curtain into the back room of the bridal shop. In less than twenty-four hours she would be walking down the aisle and she still did not have one of those gowns in her possession to call her own. Drystan had offered the assistance of Daniel Twilfit (Bess knew of his family's store of course, and because of Brady), but as much as she felt that his sister needed to apologize for breaking into their flat, she was actually feeling like being the adult in the situation to not accept tangible apologies. She even felt bad about the nice gift basket Heidi had sent, because, really, it hadn't been the girl's fault that she'd gone completely mad.

Bess would like to think about anything besides what she was about to do right now, but she couldn't. Her environment wouldn't let her, because the familiar smell of the dress shop was nearly suffocating her. She couldn't quite place what the smell was, and had never been able to, but it brought back memories of her youth and a painful reminder that she hadn't stepped into the shop in over three years.

Bess had avoided anyone at the front desk much to her oblige, and it made it easier to get straight to the point...if she could find the person she was looking for. The person. When had...when had her mother become just a person?

There was no one in the sewing room, and Bess stood in the middle, feeling helpless in the heaps of fabric and tulle. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea. It would be a lie to say that she didn't still care about her parents, or what they thought of her, but that didn't mean she cared enough to brave what could be a total disaster, right now. Bess, no matter how good she was at denying it and avoiding the topic all together, was still deeply hurt by her parents' rejection of her and her decisions. Of Sadie. The idea that her daughter had never met her grandparents stung so deep that she wasn't sure that she'd ever be able to get over the pain. Even as she came here to invite them to her wedding, before she even laid eyes on her mother, her chest began to constrict.

Her hands drifted across a beaded bodice, remembering when she would pester her mother to let her help. Her mother was more of a perfectionist than Bess was, but she still let her organize the beads. Sadie would have such a good time back here when she was older, that was for sure---

"Excuse me!"

Bess whirled around at the all too familiar scolding of her mother and gaped like a child caught in the cookie jar. Oh, Hell.

"Bess!" her mother gasped, her hand going to her chest. Bess made a choking sound as she tried to find her voice to explain herself, her hands shaking by her sides. What--what was she here, for? What did--she have to tell her? Oh--Before she could find her focus, her mother had closed the few feet between them and enveloped her in a nearly bone shattering hug. Bess felt like passing out from the hold, physically because of it and mentally. This was--the last thing she'd been expecting. The very last thing, "Oh, I was hoping---Veronica told me you were getting married!"

"She--did?"

"Yes and---I didn't know if..." Rose Zeller pulled back, her hand covering her mouth. "If you'd want me to contact you or...or I didn't know, because---"

"Because you kicked me out of your life."

Bess could breath again, feeling as if the words she'd just released had been choking her. Her eyes never deterred from her mother's, and she watched the strange mixture of emotion in her eyes. Bess didn't know what she wanted to see, even after all of the panic she'd just been in. A flash of anger surged through her and she pulled back.

Rose was flustered under her gaze. "Y-yes. I...your father, you know how--"

"You went along with all of it, Mama," how strange it was to say, "don't pretend you couldn't have done a thing," Bess snapped, but she put her hand up to stop herself. "I...I didn't come here to fight. I came here to extend an invitation to you and...Dad." Her eyes finally pulled away from her mother's face and ducked to the purse hanging at her side. Bess pulled out the invitation and handed it quickly to her mother, hoping that she would be able to leave right now and get out of this awkward situation.

"Ooh--oh, all...right, yes, of course we'll---do you have a dress?"

Bess blinked and shook her head before she could think about it. Rose's expression brightened and she jumped slightly before dashing off into another room, leaving Bess to stand in silence and wonder if her mother was really doing what she believed her to be doing. She couldn't have possibly picked a dress for her, not after everything, did her mother really think that she was going to let her help with was proving to be the hardest part of this wedding planning? Bess crossed her arms, annoyed that her mother had already begun to pry again, but her hands jolted out of their tucked away positions at the sight of the dress her mother carried in.

"Oh my God," she let out, rushing forward, nearly grabbing at the fabric before pulling back at the last possible second. This was it, this was it, but--"I--I can't, it's...it's too much."

"I kicked you out of my life, Bess," her mother said, her voice crackling, "This is the least I could do. The very least."

Bess sucked in her lip in thought, wondering if she was being bribed or not. No, no, it wasn't a bribe, it---it could be put into the same category that Daniel Twilfit's offer was put in, but...the Twilfits hadn't done anything wrong, they didn't have to---oh God, she hated growing up, why were her vain decisions becoming so hard to make?

She bit her tongue before finally reaching out for the fabric. Oh, it was perfect.

"After Veronica told me, I just knew it was the one..." her mother whispered.

"If..." Bess began, finalizing the details, "if you can get Daddy to come, tomorrow, then...then I'll wear it," she decided, her heart ready to climb out of her chest and smack her in the face for maybe, maybe denying herself of this dress. "Then I'll accept it."