Little Black Dress with Bonus Material by Susan McBride

the door despite her dragging feet, but the shopkeeper interceded, calling out and stopping Anna in her tracks.
    â€œWait, please, ma pauvre . I have something very special for you,” the woman said, lowering her throaty voice as though sharing a secret. “You cannot leave until you see it.”
    â€œSomething special?” my sister said, perking up.
    I let out an impatient snort, glaring at her. But she didn’t seem to notice.
    â€œYes, please.” Anna’s smile returned, and she jerked away from me. “Surely, it can’t hurt just to look.”
    â€œYou will not be disappointed.” The Gypsy smiled at Anna before she disappeared into the back room. Minutes after, she emerged with a sleek black dress that shimmered oddly in the electric lights. “It is very pretty, no?”
    â€œOh, yes.” Anna instantly reached for it. She gazed at it, unblinking, completely mesmerized. “It’s quite beautiful.”
    â€œAnd very, very rare,” the woman insisted. Then she started talking in her accented voice, mesmerizing in itself, explaining that the dress was made from the silk of spiders found only in Madagascar and that the spiders had to be watched as they wove, for fear they’d devour one another.
    Oh, boy, tell me another one, I thought and snorted.
    â€œEnough,” I said. I had no patience for such foolishness.
    But Anna didn’t respond. She merely stared at the dress, hypnotized, and the woman went on as if I’d never interrupted.
    â€œThe silk the spiders spun was once golden, but the first owner of the dress believed it was cursed and tried to destroy it by burning. It merely turned the silk as black as pitch.”
    Ha! I sniffed, thinking that was the silliest thing I’d ever heard. Anna stroked the fabric, which glistened diamond-like beneath her fingers, and I saw goose bumps rise on her arms, lifting the downy hairs.
    The Gypsy woman smiled, well aware that she had Anna hooked. “The dress will make happen what is meant to be. Once you see your fate, you can never go back.”
    â€œSo it’s like a crystal ball,” Anna said softly, but the Gypsy shook her dark head, ribbons rustling.
    â€œIt is destiny,” she corrected.
    â€œEither way it’s magic,” my sister decided, enthralled, and I nudged her, leaning in to whisper, “You don’t believe this fortune-telling bunk, do you?”
    But she already had her fingers in her purse, digging out her billfold, more than willing to pay whatever price the Gypsy asked. I could tell that she wanted the dress, and nothing I could say would change her mind.
    I rolled my eyes, thinking how gullible she was. She hadn’t even tried it on. It might hang on her tiny body like a potato sack. Part of me wished that it would.
    She bought it then and there and decided she’d wear it that night to the rehearsal dinner, forsaking the cream-colored gown with the sweetheart neckline Mother had bought her during a pre-wedding shopping excursion to Marshall Fields in Chicago.
    I seriously hoped to persuade her to reconsider when I went to her bedroom that evening to help her get ready.
    â€œAnnabelle, it’s me.”
    When she didn’t answer my knock, I tried the knob, but she’d locked her door. I curled my hand to a fist and pounded more loudly.
    â€œAnna!”
    â€œEvie, please, stop banging!” she said through the door. “I need to be alone awhile.” Her voice sounded so shaky that it worried me.
    I put my eye to the keyhole and caught a glimpse of her kneeling on the floor in what appeared to be the black dress, and I wondered if she were ill.
    â€œPlease, let me in,” I protested, but she insisted, “Go on without me.”
    Reluctantly, I left her, despite how wrong it felt. My mother buzzed about the foyer, digging into the coat closet, gathering wraps for her middle-aged cousins, and calling for Daddy to warm up the