My mother replied: *Of course. I’ll be there with her.*
That was the extent of my authorization. Viewing. Supervised. For inspiration.
## What Happened Next (The Version I Pieced Together Later)
I didn’t find out what actually happened at that viewing for two months. Here is what I eventually reconstructed, partly from Elise, partly from my mother, and partly from a conversation with Rosa that filled in some gaps.
Elise came to my mother’s house on a Saturday in March. They took the dress out of the box. Elise tried it on. I know this because when I eventually opened the box myself, the dress had been moved — not badly, not carelessly, but moved. The tissue interleaving was different. Someone had touched it and refolded it.
My mother apparently told Elise that the dress would fit her with some alterations. Elise is two sizes larger than me through the bodice and slightly shorter. The sleeve embroidery — the part that matters most to me — sits at the cuff, which would need to be repositioned to accommodate the length change and let out at the seam that runs under the arm.
And then, according to the story I eventually got from Elise directly: my mother told her I had agreed to let her use it.
Elise knew this wasn’t right. She told me so herself, months later, in the conversation where we actually worked through what had happened. “Mom said you’d agreed,” she said, “but I knew I hadn’t heard that from you directly. I should have called you. I kept thinking Mom had already talked to you about it. I didn’t want to make a thing of it.”