But he went on.
Stitch for stitch.
Until it’s finished.
The last time I tried it in front of her, Mom stared at me without talking.
“What’s going on?”
He smiled as his eyes filled with tears.
“Nothing.
He approached and accommodated a part of the skirt.
“I’m just trying to imagine the woman you’re going to become.
Eight days later, my mom died.
For months I couldn’t touch that dress.
I kept it carefully.
Sometimes he opened the closet just to see it.
It wasn’t clothes.
It was a goodbye.
Six months after the funeral, my dad surprised us with news.
He was getting married.
The woman was named Shirley.
And the worst thing was that I already knew her.
I was friends with my mother.
I didn’t understand how they had gone from sharing memories about Mom to talking about marriage so quickly.
But my father seemed happy.
And I was too tired of losing people to start another war.
Shirley moved into our house.
At first it was kind.
Too kind.
Then the little changes started.
A picture of Mom disappeared from the room.
Then another.
“I’m reorganizing,” Shirley explained.
A box of mother’s clothes was donated without asking me.
Her favorite cups disappeared.
A perfume that still retained its smell as well.
There were fewer and fewer traces of her.
And there was something even more uncomfortable.
Shirley couldn’t stand looking at me for too long.
One afternoon I heard a friend say to her:
“The girl is very much like her mom.
I saw Shirley squeeze her jaw.
I had the same eyes.
Some of his gestures.
Even the same way to smile.
And little by little I started to feel that Shirley didn’t want to just take a place in our house.
I wanted us to forget who had been there before.
Three months before my graduation, I began to get too interested in my room.
We should organize your closet.
“It’s okay like this.
“You have too many things.
Several times he offered to clean it while I was in school.
One afternoon he even insisted:
“Go out with your friends. I’m going to use a strong product to clean and I don’t want you to be breathing it.
Something seemed strange to me.
But I thought I was being paranoid.
Until the night of my graduation.
I pulled out the blue dress.
I held it in front of me.
For a moment I remembered Mom’s hands passing the cloth through the sewing machine.
I put it on.
When I looked in the mirror, I cried.
Not because I was sad.
For a few seconds I felt that Mom was still there.
“I hope you like the way I look,” I whispered.
Shortly after, Gary arrived.
He was my partner.
Easy.
Smart.
The kind of guy I heard before I spoke.
When he saw me, he stood completely still.
“Is that bad?”
“No.
He smiled.
I don’t know what to say.
I laughed.
“Then don’t say anything.
And during the first part of the night I was happy.
We dance.
We took pictures.
My friends asked me about the dress.
I said to them,
My mom did it.
And every time I said it, I was proud.
Until the side doors were opened.
Some parents started to come in.
I was talking to Gary when I heard several murmurs.
I turned.
And I saw her.
Shirley.
I felt my face freeze.
She was wearing a blue dress.
My blue dress.
Or rather…
a copy.
Shirley walked slowly, enjoying every look.
Several people turned from her to me.
Then again to her.
Gary frowned.
What is going on?
I couldn’t answer.
Shirley came to us.
She looked at my dress from top to bottom.
Then he smiled.
“Wow.
I walked over.
Where did you get that dress?
I sent him to.
How exactly did they know how to do it?
His smile grew bigger.
“You’re not the only person who looks good on blue.
Then I understood everything.
The evenings “cleaning” my room.
The hours I had spent alone near my closet.
The times he insisted that I go out.
I had photographed the dress.
He had probably taken action.
Then I had paid for someone to copy it.
You knew what this dress meant to me.
Shirley leaned slightly.
Only I could hear her.
“Maybe it’s time to stop turning everything into a monument for your mother.
I felt like I was short of breath.
I looked at my father.
It was close.
I had heard.
I waited.
I just needed him to say,
“Enough.”
One word.
Anything.
But he lowered his eyes.
I’m sorry, daughter.
That was it.
I felt the tears.
I didn’t want to cry in front of Shirley.
So I walked to the exit.
Then Gary gently took my arm.
“Wait.”
I want to go.
I know.
He looked at Shirley.
But give me five minutes.
—Gary…
Trust me.
Before he could stop it, he walked straight to her.
I thought I was going to face her.
He didn’t.
He smiled.
Mrs. Shirley.
She turned.
“Yes?”
“Her dress is amazing.
His face changed immediately.
“Thank you so much.
“We’re doing something special to recognize some parents tonight. Could you go with me on stage?
Shirley looked around.
All the attention I had come looking for was finally on her.
“Sure.
He followed him.
I didn’t understand anything.
Gary took her to the center of the stage.
Shirley stood under the lights as if she were waiting to receive a prize.
Then Gary looked up at the booth.
He made a signal.
The lights went down.
The giant screen behind Shirley lit up.
And a photograph appeared.
I felt like I was stopping breathing.
It was my mom.
She was sitting in front of her sewing machine.
Much thinner by treatment.
With a handkerchief covering his head.
But he smiled.
And between his hands was the blue dress.
My dress.
The room was completely silent.
Shirley turned to the screen.
His face lost color.
Then another image appeared.
This time it wasn’t mom.
It was Shirley.
Inside my room.
With the closet door open.
I was holding my dress.
And I was taking pictures with his phone.
The murmurs started immediately.
“What…?”
Shirley looked desperately at Gary.
“WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?
Gary remained calm.
Someone thought she deserved to know the truth.
My father was looking at the screen.
He seemed unable to move.
Shirley started talking quickly.
It is not what it seems!
No one answered.
