Amanda examined the two outfits judgementally. Very judgementally.
"Mrs. Wilder, excuse me, but have you decided yet? These dresses are heavier than they look,"
"Oh, quiet Daddy's Assistant. You're such a big baby. They're not that heavy. I've worn both of them myself for hours at a time and – ugh – I've worn both. Daddy's Assistant put them down; I can't wear either."
Daddy's Assistant put the dresses down in relief.
It occurred to Amanda that even if the dresses were this season original Figarucchi's, she still wouldn't be able to wear them. At least not in the next few months, which was when the Buzz Reunion was.
It was a depressing thought that she would have to leave behind her infallible sense of fashion over the next months. But any selfish thoughts were banished, a rare occurrence for Amanda when she thought of the incredible, amazing thing that was happening.
Ten years down the track. So much had changed.
"Hey, Amanda! What's Cracka-lacking?"
Well ... maybe not that much had changed.
"Hi sweetheart, just trying to figure out our outfits early, you know, for the Buzz Reunion,"
"Oh yeah, that's coming up soon,"
Wilder came in from the doorway. He had apparently dropped his board off downstairs, but he still had a half-eaten corndog in his hand. Wilder finished it quickly and threw the stick it had been on into the bin on the other side of the room. As he walked towards the wardrobe from behind her, Amanda felt a quick squeeze and the brush of Wilder's lips on her cheek. He had intended to walk right past her. Well, she had other plans. Amanda pulled him back by the arm until he swung around and was wrapped around her again.
Daddy's Assistant took this as a tactful sign that it was time for him to leave the area.
Amanda felt a gentle nuzzling at her neck, Wilder's hands rubbing up and down her waist. As much as she loved this, however much she wanted this moment to go on forever – and go further – she reluctantly pulled away.
Apart from anything else, Daddy could pop in at any moment. He had started doing it when Amanda and Wilder were first married. He would turn up out of the blue at the most unexpected – and often the most unwanted – moments. Daddy's Assistant had also formed the annoying habit of not announcing Daddy's arrival, which made for a few awkward walk-in's.
"Come on, Wilder,"
"Mmm," he mumbled. "Just a minute," He buried his head deeper in her hair, taking in her sweet, perfumed scent. He retrieved his head. "Kay, I'm done,"
And just like that, he transformed from sexy, fantasy-evoking Wilder, to playful, childlike Wilder. He practically bounced towards her walk-in-wardrobe.
As time had gone by Wilder had been allowed more and more wardrobe 'privileges.' He had been surprisingly good at choosing outfits.
"What about this one," he said, holding up a loose flower print ... dress. It was a simple summer frock design. Cream, with golden flowers and vines imprinted over it. Its shape would be what Amanda might generously call "flexible," and it had the overlarge pockets that you could sink entire hands into.
"Um, Wilder ...It isn't exactly ... you,"
Wilder looked from the dress to himself to Amanda.
"Oh no. No no no. Not for me – I outgrew dresses long ago" Amanda wasn't even going to ask. "This dress is for you."
"Me?" Amanda gestured to herself with both hands; disbelief etched across her face, " Wilder I don't even know where that dress came from. I don't know why it's in there let alone –"
But she was cut off by a sigh. Her own. Burning with desire.
Impossible fast, Wilder had closed the door. He had an impish grin on his face. He was suddenly behind her, unbuttoning her dress.
One. By. One.
Her red dress fell to the ground. She felt so glad she had worn her especially sexy bra today. Then again, all her lingerie was sexy.
She felt a soft and tender kiss on her shoulder.
But before she had even turned around, pale flowery print obscured her vision. Wilder had dropped the dress over her.
And then the fabric dropped and she saw herself in the mirror. She gave a gasp of pure astonishment. The dress, amazingly, looked great ... with the right shoes ...
"See." He said, bringing his arms around her so that his toned arms wrapped around her belly. And the small, firm bump forming there. "Awestruck,"
Amanda looked into the mirror. Herself, leaning back against Wilder's chest. Wilder, his arms around her, his head resting on hers. And one small bump.
Her perfect little family.
"Honeybee! It's me!"
"It's your dad," said Wilder, somewhat unnecessarily.
"We better go down and see what he wants,"
They had almost reached the doorway when Amanda turned back to her husband. "Wilder, there's one thing I want to know before we go down. How did you know this was the dress I needed? I wouldn't have even looked at it. And yet you ..."
"Clothes used to confuse me so much," He sounded so classically Wilder, he might as well have been in the ninth grade again. He put his arm around her shoulder, and they started walking again. "But then I realised something."
"Yeah?" She was curious.
"Getting dressed every day is pretty much the same as doing your car in 'Paintjob Fury.' After a while, you just get a sense of what paints go with which cars and which one's don't."
"Fashion translated for boys. I'm impressed."
Later, as Amanda excitedly hugged her father, Fiona, Amanda's step mom came up beside Wilder.
"I see she's wearing that dress I gave you,"
"Yeah. You were right. It suits her great. Thanks. She would have freaked if you hadn't snuck that one in. None of her outfits are going to fit her soon. That's going to be ... interesting."
"How'd you manage to get her into it willingly? That dress is not flattering off the body,"
"Oh ... I have ways,"