## The Storage Agreement
We had a pipe issue in our second bedroom in October — not a burst, thankfully, just a slow leak that had gone undetected long enough to require real remediation. Drywall. Floor. The works. It was going to take six weeks minimum, probably eight.
I keep the dress in an acid-free box. The dress needed to stay in its box, in a stable environment, not in a space with active construction, moisture, dust, and the general chaos of renovation. I called my mother, who lives twenty minutes away, and asked if I could store it at her house temporarily.
“Of course,” she said. “As long as you need.”
I drove the box over on a Saturday and put it in her guest room closet, on the shelf, clearly labeled in my handwriting: MARA’S DRESS. DO NOT OPEN WITHOUT MARA.
“I’ll come get it as soon as the room is done,” I told her.
“No rush,” she said.
We had a conversation that I have since retrieved in my memory many times, checking it for ambiguity. I do not believe it was ambiguous. She was storing a thing for me. I was leaving a thing with her. The arrangement was temporary and the ownership was not complicated.
## The Viewing Permission
Elise got engaged to Noah in February. I found out on a Sunday morning when my mother called to tell me, which was slightly strange — Elise usually texts me directly — but I didn’t think much of it. I called Elise, told her I was happy for her, asked about the ring (oval, yellow gold, simple, exactly what Elise would choose), and asked when they were thinking.