In the hopes of strengthening our relationship, I agreed to design six handmade bridesmaid dresses when my stepsister asked me to. I purchased the materials with $400 from my baby fund. She referred to the outfits as my “gift” when I delivered them, and she chuckled when I demanded payment. Karma came at just the right time.
On a Tuesday morning, I was bouncing my four-month-old son Max on my hip when my stepsister called.
“Amelia? It’s Jade. I desperately need your help.”
Little Max grabbed a fistful of my hair as I moved him to my other arm, causing me to wince. “What’s going on?”
“You know I’m getting married next month, right? Well, I’m having an absolute nightmare finding bridesmaid dresses. I’ve been to 12 boutiques, and nothing looks decent on all the six girls. Different body types, you know? Then I remembered… you’re absolutely incredible with that sewing machine. Your work is professional quality.”
“Jade, I’m not really…”
“Could you possibly make them? Please? I mean, you’re home anyway, and I’d pay you really well, of course! You’d literally be saving my entire wedding. I’m running out of options here.”
I had never really been close to Jade. Our lives and our mothers were different. She was family, though. Sort of.
“I haven’t done professional work since Max was born. How much time do I have?”
“Three weeks? I know it’s incredibly tight, but you’re so talented. Remember that dress you made for cousin Lia’s graduation? Everyone was asking who designed it.”
Max was nibbling on the neck of my shirt when I looked down at him. It was getting dangerously low in our baby fund. Rio, my spouse, had been working two shifts at the workplace. However, the costs continued to mount. This might possibly be beneficial to us.
“What’s your budget for materials and labor? Six custom dresses is a lot of work.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that right now. We’ll figure out all the money stuff when they’re finished. I promise I’ll pay you.”
“Alright. I’ll do it.”
That Thursday afternoon, Sarah, the first bridesmaid, showed up. She had extremely certain opinions about everything and was tall and curvaceous.
She declared, looking at my sketch, “I absolutely hate high necklines.” “They make me look like a nun. Can we go much lower?”
I changed the design, saying, “Of course. How’s this?”
“Perfect. Oh, and I need the waist taken in here, and here. I want it really fitted.”
On Friday, tiny Emma arrived, demanding the complete opposite of what Sarah had asked for.
She scowled at the fabric as she remarked, “This neckline is way too low for me,” “I’ll look inappropriate. Can we make it higher? And the waist needs to be way looser. I don’t like tight clothes.”
“Absolutely. We can modify the pattern.”
“Great. Oh, and can the sleeves be longer? I hate my arms.”
Jessica, who was athletic, arrived on Saturday with her own set of demands.
“I need a slit up the thigh. A high one. I want to be able to dance without feeling restricted. And can we add some kind of structure to the bust area? I need support.”
Every female had strong, opposing views.
When Sarah had her second fitting, she said, “Can we make this more flowy around the hips?” “I look huge in anything fitted there.”
Emma grumbled, “I hate how this color makes my skin look,” at her third appointment. “Are you sure we can’t change it? Maybe something in blue?”
“This fabric feels cheap,” Jessica declared plainly as she ran her fingertips over the silk. “It’s not going to photograph well.”
I grinned. “Of course. We can absolutely adjust that.”
Max, meanwhile, sobbed as scheduled every two hours. I would pin hems with one hand and nurse him with the other. Hunching over the sewing machine until three in the morning caused my back to ache. most evenings.
Rio would discover me unconscious at the kitchen table, surrounded by fabric remnants and pins.
He brought me coffee one evening and remarked, “You’re literally killing yourself for this project,” with a troubled look on his face. “When’s the last time you slept more than two hours straight?”
I said, “It’s almost done,” while eating pins.
“Family that hasn’t even paid for materials yet. You spent $400 of our baby money, Amelia.”
He was correct. I had purchased fine silk, expert lining, lace, and all the other accessories from our meticulously collected emergency cash. Jade kept saying she will pay me back “very soon.”
I supplied six flawless custom-tailored dresses two days prior to the wedding. They all fit as if they were created by a luxury fashion label.
I knocked and found Jade stretched on her couch, browsing through her phone. She didn’t even raise her head.
She was totally engrossed in whatever was on her screen when she said, “Just hang them somewhere in the spare room,”
“Don’t you want to see them first? They turned out really beautiful.”
“I’m sure they’re adequate.”
Sufficient? They were “adequate” after three weeks of my life, $400 of our baby money, and innumerable restless nights?
“So about the payment we discussed…”
That caught her attention at last. Her well-defined eyebrows lifted in what appeared to be sincere bewilderment as she looked up. “Payment? What payment?”
“You said you’d reimburse me for the materials. Plus we never discussed your labor fee. Professional seamstresses charge.”
“Oh honey, you’re actually serious right now? This is obviously your wedding GIFT to me! I mean, what else were you planning to give me? Some generic department store picture frame? A blender from your registry?”
“Jade, I specifically used money meant for Max’s winter clothes. His coat doesn’t fit anymore, and I need that money back…”
“Don’t be so overly dramatic about everything. It’s not like you have an actual job right now anyway. You’re just sitting at home all day. I basically gave you a fun little project to keep you busy.”
I felt the words like a blast of cold water. spending the day sitting at home. An enjoyable small project.
“I haven’t slept more than two hours straight in weeks.”
“Welcome to parenthood! Now, I really need to get ready. Thanks for the dresses!”
I spent half an hour crying in my car. All the windows were fogged up by large, unsightly, shoulder-shaking sobbing. Rio grabbed for his phone as soon as he saw my injured face when I eventually arrived home.
“That’s it. I’m calling her right now.”
“No, please don’t. Please, Rio. Don’t make this situation even worse before her wedding.”
“She completely used you, Amelia. She flat-out lied to your face. This is theft.”
“I know what it is. But starting a family war won’t get our money back. It’ll just make everything worse.”
“So what? We just let her walk all over you? Pretend this is okay?”
“For now, yes. I can’t handle any more drama right now.”
Rio put down the phone, albeit his jaw tightened. “This isn’t over.”
“I know. But let’s just get through the wedding first.”
***
The wedding was stunning. Jade looked gorgeous in her high-end dress. What about my dresses? At the reception, they were the talk of the town.
I heard someone inquire, “Who designed these bridesmaid dresses?”
Another visitor exclaimed, “They’re absolutely gorgeous.” “So unique and well-fitted.”
Every time someone praised the bridesmaids rather than Jade, I saw her jaw clench. All eyes were drawn to the silk and lace marvels I had made with bleeding fingers, even though she had spent a fortune on her attire.
After that, I acquired an illness that caused my blood pressure to dangerously rise. Near the open bar, Jade was whispering to one of her college pals in a clandestine manner.
“Honestly, the dresses were basically free labor. My stepsister’s been desperate for something to occupy her time since she’s stuck at home with the baby. She’d probably sew anything if you asked her nicely enough. Some people are just easy to manipulate!”
Her companion chuckled. “That’s genius. Free designer work.”
“I know, right? I should have thought of this sooner.”
Anger burned in my face.
Then, twenty minutes before to the start of the first dance, Jade unexpectedly showed up at my table and took hold of my arm.
“Amelia, I need your help right now. Please, this is an emergency. You have to help me.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Just come with me. Quickly.”
Glancing around wildly to make sure no one was looking, she pulled me into the women’s lavatory. She turned around and dragged me into the biggest cubicle.
The entire back seam of her pricey designer dress was completely split. Through the enormous opening, her white lace underwear was plainly visible.
“Oh my God!”
“Everyone’s going to see!” She exclaimed as tears trickled down her flawlessly placed makeup, leaving black traces of mascara. “The photographers, the videographer, all 200 guests! This is the first dance. It’s supposed to be magical, and I’m going to be completely humiliated. You’re literally the only person who can fix this mess. Please, Amelia. I’ll absolutely die of embarrassment if I have to go out there like this.”
For a long time, I gazed at the torn seam. Low-quality construction work concealed under an expensive designer name. I did not miss the irony at all.
I silently took my emergency stitching kit out of my bag after what seemed like an age. Old work habits don’t go away easily.
“Stand completely still. Don’t even breathe deeply.”
Her tears were relieved. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said.
Using baby wipes to shield my knees from the dubious tile, I knelt on the restroom floor. Just outside, guests were laughing and celebrating while the flashlight on my phone illuminated the careful repair work.
After ten minutes, the dress was once again flawless.
With a sigh of relief, Jade looked in the mirror. “Thank God. You’re a lifesaver.”
She turned to go.
“Wait. You owe me an apology. Not money. Just honesty. Tell people I made those dresses. Tell them what really happened.”
“Amelia, I…”
“One truth, Jade. That’s all I want.”
She walked away silently. I assumed that would be the last of it.
However, Jade got up during the speech.
“Before we continue, I need to say something. An apology, actually.”
My heart stopped beating.
“I treated my stepsister like she was disposable. Like her talent meant nothing. I promised to pay her for making six custom bridesmaid dresses, then told her it was her gift to me instead. I used money she’d set aside for her baby to buy materials, then acted like she should be grateful for the work.”
“She was the only person who could save me tonight when my dress tore. And she did. Even after how I treated her.” Jade took an envelope out of her clutch. “She didn’t deserve my selfishness. But she’s getting my gratitude now, along with what I owe her. Plus extra for her baby.”
She came up and gave the envelope to me.
“I’m sorry, Amelia. For everything.”
Applause erupted throughout the room, but I could only hear my own heartbeat. She had finally recognized me as more than just a piece of work, not because of the money.
Plots of retaliation or dramatic encounters are not necessary for justice. Sometimes it has enough dignity to help someone who doesn’t deserve it, along with a needle and thread. And it is precisely that which opens their eyes.
