From a distance, no one would be able to tell that the towel tied over her skirt was not part of the dress. The black terrycloth covered the discolored orange-white bleach spot that Margaret been unable to stop from dying the cloth of her skirt. But, this was her mother’s favorite dress on her, and she wouldn’t dare wear anything else to her mother’s funeral.
“It does feel like a Mom solution, doesn’t it?” Beth asked, helping to stick bobby pins into the knot on the towel, so that no matter what her little sister did, the rectangle would stay in place. “A towel, bobby pins, anything else we can find in the drawers in the bathroom. “This is what she would do if we came to her in tears with bleach spots on our clothes.”
“Yeah,” Margaret answered almost emptily. Beth wanted to dwell in just how much they were like their mother. Margaret wanted to try and push it all aside. Margaret just wanted her dress to be perfect and to act as a perfect host and she wanted to walk out into the living room to find her mother smiling up at her from the couch, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen so she just swallowed hard and hoped that no one could see that she felt a lump in her throat. “Yeah. It’s a Mom solution.”
“There we go.” Beth smiled, standing up and looking at her handwork. “As good as we can get.”
Margaret hugged her sister tightly. “Thank you. Let’s go.”