them make it into the yes pile. I have to admit, the dress I have on right now is even making me smile. And I’m a T-shirt and jeans kind of girl.
Jen is beaming, and the girls are nodding in agreement. It’s a black, sleeveless micro-mini by Versace, made of jersey stretch fabric, that elegantly glides over my skin. It’s the kind of dress that makes you glow. I feel like a million bucks.
The girls are giddy with excitement. “We have to accessorize,” Gwen says, dashing off. Sophia follows her, rushing to the jewelry section.
“Someone might actually mistake you for a girl wearing this,” Jen says.
I crinkle my face at her. “I own dresses.”
“Not like this, you don’t,” Jen says.
I glance down and get a glimpse of the $500 price tag. I gulp at the sight. “And it looks like I’m not going to be owning a dress like this.”
Jen raises an eyebrow, staring me down. “Say it with me, beauty has no price.”
“Beauty has no price,” I repeat, hesitantly. It’s best not to argue. I’m just going to keep going along with this fantasy of a dress. Gwen dashes back over to us, brimming with joy.
“You are going to look stunning in this,” Gwen says.
She reaches around from behind and clasps an alexandrite pendant on my neck. I turn to the full length mirror, stunned by the ensemble. The dress, the shoes, the pendant. Gorgeous.
Suddenly, I feel the pendant radiate heat. The color of the pendant changes from a cool purple to a glowing red.
Jen’s eyes grow wide, and she snatches the gemstone from my neck.
“Ouch,” I exclaim, as the necklace grates against my skin. “What did you do that for?”
Jen stammers, then says, “It wasn’t working with the outfit.”
Rubbing my neck, I watch Jen strut away. Gwen and Sophia look dumbfounded.
“What was that all about?” I ask.
The girls shrug and exchange a glance.
I change out of the dress, back into my jeans and T-shirt. I meet Jen at the check out counter with a slew of clothes draped over my arm. Minus the fabulous dress, of course. Jen is ringing up some items of her own.
“You want to tell me what that was all about?” I ask.
“I told you, the wrong accessories can ruin an outfit,” she says. Her tone is such that I drop it. She glances at the clothes slung over my arm. Her eyes narrow, instantly noticing the dress is missing. “Where is it?”
“I put it back. I can’t afford it,” I say.
“Go and get it,” she commands. Her voice is slow and deliberate. “And the shoes.”
“But—“
“But nothing. Do it,” she says, staring at me.
“Jen, I can’t afford it. I’ve got to be really careful with funds,” I whisper.
Jen clutches my arm, leans in, whispering in my ear, “I’m buying, silly.”
My eyes grow wide, like saucers. I swallow hard, shocked. “Why?”
“Because friends take care of each other,” she says, smiling. “Just stay away from alexandrite pendants. In fact, stay away from all gemstones,” Jen cautions.
I look at her perplexed. “What’s with the gemstones?”
I can tell by the stern look on Jen’s face that she doesn’t want to talk about it. I drop if for now, but I have another burning question. “How can you afford this?”
“Go. Get the dress. Before I change my mind,” she says.
Resistance is futile. I scurry away to snatch up the dress. And the shoes.
Alexandrite is a gemstone that changes color. In daylight, it looks bluish-green. Inside, with incandescent light, it looks a purplish-red. But it doesn’t glow bright red, radiating heat. At least, it’s not supposed to.
I look for an opportunity to press Jen on the subject, but one never really presents itself. We spend the rest of the afternoon, shopping and having fun. I just relax and enjoy the moment. I haven’t been on a shopping spree in forever.
Afterward, Jen drops me off at uncle Jake’s and I thank her profusely. She seems almost embarrassed by my
Yvette Hines, Monique Lamont