“Where can I? I mean I need help.” A wedding dress wasn’t the sort of thing one could put on or take off by oneself, to say nothing of the corse....“This is your room, now, dear. Use it. And I’ll help if you tell me what to do. Mildred -- Harriet for that matter -- is still dealing with the remains of the reception.”Bridget didn’t have another choice. Her mother had helped her on with the wedding dress, but she wasn’t here. She wouldn’t be here. Bridget couldn’t imagine asking Mrs. Powell for. "No, I think what you have on will work," she reached and threw me a jacket lying on the couch, "just put this on, and we'll go." You're serious?" I asked."Come on, you know you want to. It'll be fun. We can have a girl's night in!" she said amused."Oh, what the heck," I said giving in. I put the jacket and we left for her house. "I have no idea why I'm doing this." Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," she said. "So, why do you dress like this? Are you gay?" No, no way, it's not that. I... I. More

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