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“The skirt is short on purpose, Clint.” Kate rolled her eyes, and continued, “I brought you here so you could help me, would you mind actually doing that?”
Clint looked back at Kate and chugged the rest of the coffee from the boutique’s tiny mug, and returned it to a salesperson that Kate had asked to stand by with a coffeepot. “Katie-Kate, why did you bring me here?”
“Because Cassie is dead, Tommy flat out refused and then made plans with David, and Billy bailed on me. Something about Kree-Skrull negotiations came up, and apparently Teddy needed backup more than I did. So your best man duties come into play here.”
“Where’s America?”
“I can’t go wedding dress shopping with my fiancé, Barton. So, beyond this dress being too short for your liking, what do you think?”
“It’s cool, I guess. I like the, um, top part? But aren’t wedding dresses supposed to be long?”
“Why would you think I want traditional, Barton? I can wear a short wedding dress if I want to.”
”Ok, fine. If you wanna wear the short dress, wear the short dress. It’s pretty. Prettier than the other ones you’ve tried so far.”
“Thanks” Kate turned back to the mirror, and examined the high-low skirt. The top part of the dress was very Kate, Clint was right about that. And if Kate was going to wear a white dress to her wedding, she sure as hell wasn’t going to wear a full length one.
“Hey, kid. You like the dress. Since when do you need my approval for anything?” Kate looked at Clint in the mirror. He was still staring into his tiny coffee, but he was also beaming. There may have been tears in his eyes. “Hey, stay here.” He drained his coffee again, and stood up and walked toward the sales attendant, pretending not to be wiping his eyes.
Kate looked back at herself in the mirror. Clint was right about her not usually waiting for approval, but this wasn’t the usual situation. She couldn’t shoot anything and make anything right this time. She didn’t even have her bow with her, and her fingers twitched for some target practice to calm herself down.
Growing up, Kate had been surrounded by women always focused on making their big day perfect, and little girls dreaming about the most important day of their lives. She had always thought she was above all that, but more and more she was realizing how she must have internalized the need to get every detail perfect, especially the clothes. And Kate didn’t know if she could imagine herself walking down the isle in this dress. Maybe it wasn’t right. Was it too traditional, or was it not traditional enough? Was she making a huge mistake? Was this totally the wrong thing for her and America? What was she getting herself into?
“Hawkeye.”
Kate turned around. Clint had returned, and he had discarded his coffee mug. In its place was a bright purple veil. It was so obnoxious that Kate had to hide her laughter. Clint cast his eyes down, and turned to return the veil to the attendant.
“No, give it to me,” Kate said. Clint handed the veil over, and the saleswoman came over to help Kate try it in her ponytail. Kate faced the mirror, and immediately lost her breath.
“Holy Futz” she whispered. Kate turned around and gave Clint a hug that left him gasping for air. When she finally pulled back to wipe her eyes, she saw that her friend’s eyes were brimming with tears as well. “Thanks, Barton.”