Green

By Rachel Dib

Holding up the emerald dress, I knew it wouldn’t fit. Still, I slipped it over my head. The fabric clung to my shoulders like plastic wrap.

Nope. I tugged the garment back off.

When I’d been fitted for the bridesmaid’s dress, I’d been bone-thin with knobby knees and elbows. Thankfully, that was no longer the case.

Ever since the infusion permitting Blue, the alien bacteria collective, to inhabit my body, my lupus flares had subsided. Blue’s ability to cure my autoimmune disease had allowed me to feel like a regular person. And since part of feeling healthy was eating normally, I’d gained weight.

While I knew the weight gain was a good thing, now I couldn’t fit into my bridesmaid’s dress—and Laura’s wedding was in two weeks.

Why didn’t I check the dress sooner?

“Emerald compliments you nicely,” Blue voiced in my mind. “It brings out the green in your eyes.”

“Yeah, except the dress doesn’t fit.” I sighed.

“I see.”  Blue’s concern pressed against the back of my skull. “Could you order a larger size?”

I shook my head. “Not at this point. I could check if the boutique has a sample in stock, but I bought this dress on sale back in January. The likelihood of them carrying it is small enough, let alone at the same price.”

“I see,” Blue repeated. Again, I felt a mental nudge as they searched for a solution. Finally, they asked, “Would Laura mind if you wore a different style?”

I knew she wouldn’t. She’d make allowances for me, just as she had back when I’d been sick.

I didn’t want her to.

This was Laura’s wedding—her special day. I didn’t want to alter her plans. I wanted her to have the dream wedding she’d been imagining, where all her bridesmaids matched.

Pursing my lips, I eyed the dress. “Maybe I could lose a little weight. Just for the wedding. I’ve only gained ten or fifteen pounds.”

“That is a large discrepancy.”

“Athletes drop weight all the time.” I shrugged. “It can’t be that hard. I’ll just practice restraint. Eat less over the next couple weeks.”

Although I felt Blue’s unease, they fell silent.

Unsure how to begin, I started my diet by skipping breakfast and eating only salad for lunch and dinner. Blue wasn’t thrilled.

“Breakfast helps revitalize your body.”

“It’s also carbs.”

“Not if you eat eggs,” they pressed.

I cringed. “No thanks.”

Blue’s annoyance gave me sudden brain freeze. “At least add protein to your salads.”

“I’m trying to remove calories,” I scowled. “Look, I understand this sucks, but it’s not for long. Can’t you just support me? For Laura’s sake?”

Blue hesitated, considering, and then relented. “For now.”

And they did. Blue stopped complaining, and I pushed them from my mind, caught up in my self-inflicted weight loss program. Constantly hungry, I tired easier and became short-tempered. But I lost weight, which was what mattered.

Until my joints started to ache again. That’s when I remembered Blue.

“What? Have you decided to punish me now?” I snapped. “Can’t have your way, so you quit healing me?”

Blue squirmed and their usually sonorous voice came out oddly flat. “Did you not consider that weakening yourself might weaken me also?”

“What do you mean?” When Blue didn’t answer, I threw up my hands. “Fine. Don’t explain, but I thought you were above tantrums.”

Still, Blue’s statement bothered me. What if I am hurting our symbiotic relationship?

I continued the diet, though. I was too close to my goal to stop.

And then Laura chimed in.

She’d asked me to lunch—just the two of us—choosing a cute café with outdoor seating. Since Laura had been busy with wedding preparations, I was happy for some one-on-one time. But as soon as we’d ordered our salads, she leaned forward, meeting my eye.

“Are you all right, Freya?”

I blinked. “Yeah, why?”

Laura bit her lip. “It’s just… You’re not feeling sick again, right?”

“No. I’m great.”

“Liar,” Blue muttered.

Shhh, I snapped. Though my friend couldn’t hear Blue, I didn’t need the distraction.

Laura nodded slowly, but then her expression grew stern. “You’ve been losing weight. And quickly. It’s not healthy.”

I shifted uncomfortably.

Fear wrinkled Laura’s brow. “You are okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Then, what is it?”

I exhaled slowly. “The dress doesn’t fit.”

Confusion clouded Laura’s features.

“The bridesmaid’s dress.” I shook my head. “I’ve gained weight and it doesn’t fit anymore. I thought I could lose some pounds before the wedding but…”

“Are you serious?” She crossed her arms. “You’re messing with your health over a stupid dress?”

“It’s your wedding.”

“I don’t care if it’s my deathbed. You don’t risk flaring over something as mundane as a dress!”

“I agree,” Blue seconded.

I gritted my teeth. “We won’t match if I buy a new dress now. I’ll stand out.”

A slow smiled slid across Laura’s face. “Actually, I have a solution for that.”

“This dress suits you even better.”

Blue was right. The high-necked dress with its lacy, embroidered top and flowy, emerald skirts not only distinguished me as Laura’s maid of honor, but it also enhanced the shape of my body—at a healthy weight.

I couldn’t help but grin at my reflection. I was beautiful. I felt beautiful. I realized I hadn’t considered myself that way in so long.

Tears stung my eyes. Turning from the mirror, I blinked them away.

“Change isn’t always bad,” Blue said.

“I know. I mean, if I’d never brought you into my life, I might have been too sick to participate in Laura’s wedding today.” I sighed. “I’m sorry for how I treated you during my diet.”

“You were stressed. It was understandable.”

“But still wrong,” I replied. “You do a lot for me. Thank you.”

Coolness in my spine marked Blue’s confusion, but then I felt warmth as they basked in my praise. “For as long as I am able, I will.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Rachel Dib is a stay-at-home mom of three small children. After marrying a soldier, she left her home state of South Carolina to live in random places across the United States. Her works of short fiction have been published by On the Premises Magazine, Havok Publishing, and Ye Olde Dragon Books. She has also had short stories published by Toasted Cheese Literary Journal under the name R.J. Snowberger.

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