“Promise,” Jess said. After which she couldn’t help asking, “Do I still have to try on the clothes?”

“Here’s the blouse, and the jacket. Here’s the skirt.” Emily straightened the blanket on Jess’s unmade bed and sat on top.

The skirt was short, the jacket snug, and they were woven in a rust and orange tweed. The blouse was caramel silk with a strange lacquered finish, not just caramel but caramelized. Jess gazed for a moment at the three pieces. Then she stripped off the rest of her clothes and plunged in.

“Oh, they’re perfect,” said Emily. “They fit perfectly. Do you have a mirror?”

“Just in the bathroom.”

“Here, brush your hair and tie it back. Or put it up. Go take a look.”

Jess padded off to the bathroom and peeked at herself in the mirror, where she saw her own bemused face, more freckled than she remembered. The tweed jacket and the silk blouse reminded her of a game she and Emily had played when they were little. They called themselves Dress-Up Ladies and teetered through the house on high heels. Sometimes Emily would wear a satin evening gown, and pretend she was a bride. Then Jess would be the flower girl, with scarves tied around her waist. That was before their father gave away their mother’s clothes.

“Can you see?” Emily called from the bedroom.

“It’s really nice,” Jess called back.

“It’s a Vivienne Tam suit,” said Emily when Jess returned.

“Thank you. I could tell by the … label.” Jess sat down cautiously on her desk chair. Comically, experimentally, she tried crossing her legs.

“You hate it,” Emily said.

“No! It’s really very pretty.” Jess was already undressing.

“Just say you’ll wear it once.”

“I’ll wear it to your IPO.” Jess pulled on a giant T-shirt and sweatpants.

“You aren’t going to the IPO. It’s not a wedding.”

“Okay, I’ll wear it to your wedding.” Jess flopped onto the bed. “Don’t you miss him?”