Slow Burn | HS

from a tiny spark may burst a mighty flame

February 2017

The champagne bubbles tickle Joelle's tongue as she sits on the pristine white couch. She tries to make herself as comfortable as possible, her mother on one side and Lola on the other. Her tights are too itchy, and the last time she tried to scratch and find relief, her nail broke through the nylon on her shin. Now, she suffers in stillness, wanting anything but to be on the receiving side of one of Ivy's disapproving glares. The Katler women had already heard Ivy's spiel about how everything about this day had to be "absolutely perfect."

The sales consultant comes back with four white dresses held high above her head. They all have the same key features: empire waists, A-line hems, white but not ivory. Ivy seemed to know just the style wedding dress that she wanted. Finding a dress that had all of these characteristics wasn't a feat, but finding the dress was another story.

Lola scrolls through her phone on Joelle's left, texting her husband Patrick and checking up on Libby and Josh. Their mother sits contentedly, eyes focused on the dressing room door that hides Ivy while she tries on her dresses. They've seen five dresses already.

Harry had texted Harry earlier in the day, checking up on her and making sure she got home alright. Joelle had been so embarrassed that she even turned her read receipts off before opening the message so she wouldn't have to reply immediately. She can't even bring herself to think of a message to respond, her embarrassment from the night before burning through her body like wildfire. She had been with her mother when the text first appeared, who caught sight of her flaming cheeks and asked if she was feeling alright. Apart from the residual crippling humiliation, the only remaining trace of her night of binge drinking was the dry mouth she woke up with this morning. She somehow managed to escape hangover free.

Luckily, Ivy and her lavish antics prove to be efficient distractions from her deprecating thoughts. Joelle is jarred from her remaining embarrassment when she hears a squeal from behind the dressing room door.

Ivy's crying when she walks out of the dressing room, and Joelle knows that this dress is the one. It's a pristine white, just like Ivy had imagined, with a trying top and spaghetti straps, perfect for a wedding on a Mykonos beach. The waistline rests high on her hips, the skirt falling naturally around her with a single layer of tulle over the chiffon skirt for a hazy, dream-like feel. Although the dress is much more understated than Joelle expected Ivy to go for, she looks gorgeous, and Joelle feels a rush of joy at seeing her difficult-to-please sister standing in the dress of her dreams.

"Oh, Ivy," Lola breathes, standing up immediately and going to hug her. Ivy squeezes her big sister, tears streaking her cheeks.

Becca is in hysterics, sniffling and breaking open her travel-size pack of tissues. She blows her nose and wipes under her eyes. Joelle grabs her mother's hand and squeezes, earning herself a teary-eyed smile. Once Lola and Ivy break apart, Joelle is quick to make her way over, placing her glass down next to the complimentary cupcakes and taking Lola's place, carefully gathering Ivy into a firm embrace.

"You look stunning," she whispers in her ear.

"Thank you, Jo," Ivy replies. "I love you."

Joelle kisses her cheek and pulls away, making room for her mother and texting Mia to let her know that they had finished up early.

"I can cancel the next appointment at The Knot if you're certain that this is the dress," Becca says.

"I'm so sure," Ivy replies, spinning back around and stepping on the small lift to get a full view of her dress in front of all the mirrors. "It's perfect."