Integrity. Anna Borgeryd
laboriously twisted off her engagement and wedding rings and put them on the little label that was attached to the teabag. The label’s message encouraged her to be proud of who she was.
Cissi thought they might as well go ahead and do everything at once, so when Vera was sitting in Cissi’s tiny bathroom with her hair, now a worrisome orange, in a sticky heap under a plastic bag, Cissi lit a powerful lamp on the mirror. Vera had washed her face carefully and even put in her contact lenses in honor of the day. But Cissi wasn’t impressed. She pointed to places where Vera’s skin was dry and chapped and where Vera’s thick, dark eyebrows stuck out.
‘Oh, sorry. We’ve only just got to know each other and here I am saying things like that. Flat-out rude. It would be like you coming up to me and blurting out, “well, here’s a muffin-top!”’ Cissi grabbed the fat around her waist.
‘No, it’s okay,’ said Vera, smiling palely. ‘It’s like when my mother-in-law came to the apartment. She cleared off the whole kitchen counter and pointed out all the stains. I actually told her that a lot of daughters-in-law would be offended, but not me. In the first place, it was mostly Adam who did the dishes. But even if I had lived there alone…’ Vera shrugged her shoulders, ‘I’m not interested in competing for “cleanest kitchen counter”. It would be another thing if we were going to operate on it.’
‘Okay. But now you’re taking… a break from Adam?’
Vera nodded and looked at the light indentation that the rings had left in her finger after years of wearing them. ‘Yeah, I guess so.’
Cissi went out to the little table where they had sat drinking tea. She came back with Vera’s rings and placed them carefully in her lap.
‘Don’t forget them. You know, you can’t dump him on me,’ she tried to joke, but went on quickly: ‘Uh, so the mother-in-law cleared the counter. What did she do after that?’
‘She got cracking with the steel wool. And I guess that’s what you feel like doing too?’ Vera asked, dutifully forcing her rings back on.
Vera was surprised at the amount of work Cissi put into the renovation project. She wondered if this was what it was like to have a big sister. They took a break for lunch and then Vera scrubbed the bathtub to get rid of all traces of orange hair dye. Otherwise, it was just simple, goal-focused work, and after four hours in Cissi’s little apartment – after Cissi had curled Vera’s now chestnut-colored hair and made up her face – it was time to go into town and get kitted out for the banquet.
‘Formal attire means long dresses for women.’
‘So what does “formal attire, at a minimum” mean, then?’ wondered Vera.
‘A gorgeous long dress!’ Cissi took a draped, gold-colored creation out of her full closet. ‘This is what I’m wearing.’
Vera glanced at herself in the mirror on the way out. She saw her usual jeans and her favorite sweater, but what was above the beige jacket felt foreign. She struggled with a desire to go back in, wipe off half the make-up, and put her look-at-me hair in a ponytail – that’s what the old Vera would do. But Cissi was already halfway down the stairs. This isn’t even my kind of thing. I hope I don’t see anybody I know, thought Vera as she shut the door behind her.
Cissi knew Lovisa, who managed Formal Clothes on Norrland Street. When Vera had tried on everything that was left in stock in size 8, there were only two dresses that were remotely possible. One of them was a violet-blue fluffy chiffon and the other was a rust-red silk dress with cap sleeves and hand-embroidered copper pearls on the bodice. Vera didn’t like the violet one; it was too much like a wedding dress. When Lovisa suggested cream-colored evening gloves to go with the red dress, Cissi thought that decided it. It was true that Vera was usually as shy as a wallflower, but if, for once, she was going to a banquet, why not show off her fantastic figure in the red dress? And it was a perfect color for her as well.
Fantastic figure? Vera shook her head and showed Cissi how the dress was too big across the bust.
‘No, that, that’s your…’ Cissi seemed to be searching for a word that was not too critical, and she lowered her voice, ‘nonexistent bra’s fault. We should have done that first – found proper underwear…’ Cissi turned to Lovisa.
‘Can we borrow it for a while today and check to make sure it’s right? You probably won’t need to make any alterations; the length is just right and it fits perfectly at the waist! What does it cost to hire it for the weekend for the banquet if she pays now and takes it without any alterations?’
Then Cissi’s cellphone rang; it was an indignant guy on the other end. Cissi waved at Vera to finish up the deal and she walked away towards the bridesmaids’ dresses as she talked into the telephone: she didn’t have time to come right now, but yes, she was downtown. Sure, they could meet if he wanted.
‘Was that your boyfriend?’ Vera wondered, as a sales assistant carefully wrapped up the red dress with the copper pearls.
‘Huh? No! God, no! That was just Freddie, my little cousin. He might show up later. But he’s okay for a 15-year-old.’
When they left the store with the party dress protected inside a large garment bag, Vera felt uncomfortable. She understood that the fortune she felt she had paid to rent the dress was actually a bargain price because of Cissi’s friendship with Lovisa, and it was a relief that the banquet problem was now solved. But if she had felt dressed up before, now it was full masquerade.
Vera didn’t have very much money left, so the miracle bra that was needed would have to be found at the big, low-price chainstore at the city mall. Cissi guessed that it would take a while, so she used the opportunity to try on clothes too. After about 20 minutes, when she still hadn’t found a single bra that fitted, Vera began to feel downhearted. Cissi came back with her arms full of clothes. She hung most of them over the door of the changing room next to Vera’s, but draped a few things over Vera’s door as well.
‘I couldn’t help myself. Try these on, I think you… What’s wrong?’ Cissi broke off when she saw Vera’s sad eyes.
‘Nothing fits.’ Vera let her arms fall to her sides and shyly revealed the bra she had tried on. Cissi studied Vera and the dozen alternatives that were hanging in the changing room.
‘Excuse me, is it okay if I…?’ Cissi fiddled with the shoulder strap and the strap across Vera’s back.
‘But, Vera,’ she said reading the label, ‘34A – are you sure about this? I think it looks too big. You have it fastened on the hooks farthest in and it’s still loose.’
‘A is the smallest they have,’ said Vera with a small voice.
‘Yes, yes, but it’s here that it’s too big!’ Cissi pulled the strap away from Vera’s back demonstratively.
Cissi went out to the underwear display and came back with several new bras. ‘I read somewhere that over half of Swedish women wear bras that are the wrong size. You should have 32B, or maybe even 30C; try these!’
‘But isn’t B for… well… a normal-sized bust?’ Vera didn’t take the garments that Cissi held out to her.
‘Yes, and C is large – for you. Geez! 32 or 34 inches around the body! You are slim enough for several people! You could easily share a little with me,’ said Cissi and smiled kindly.
‘Yeah, so shouldn’t I have 32A?’
Cissi’s phone rang again. ‘Nah, try these on; you’ll see.’
Cissi went out and answered the phone. Vera heard her describe where they were.
Cissi was right. These fitted much better. But most of the ones she had chosen were generously padded models that Cissi said were designed to ‘highlight her charms’.
What a strange expression, thought Vera. Who is this highlighting supposed to charm? A brief thought in Adam’s direction