Seriously, has it only been an hour? I consult my watch, tapping the face to make sure it’s still working. “Courtney, I’m sorry, but absolutely not,” I say, pointing my finger past her to the entrance under the sign that says ‘dressing rooms.’
“But Mom,” she pleads, tilting her head and giving me doe eyes. I can hear my teeth grating. I don’t say a thing. This is the hill I am prepared to die on. My baby girl is not going to the Holiday Ball looking like a twenty-something-year-old in heat.
Instantly her body distorts. She turns away and stomps off, the fabric swaying seductively behind her. Jesus, she’s not even trying to look sexy and yet…
“Holiday Ball?” A woman nearby asks. I glance her way but keep my focus on the opening my baby girl has disappeared back into. I know my daughter well enough that I wouldn’t put it past her to sneak out and put the dress on hold then come back during lunch and buy it with the money she’s been saving from her babysitting jobs. I nod.
“She’s stunning.”
“Thank you.” I give her a bit more of my attention. “You have one going, too?”
“Um,” her lip quivers, her green eyes glisten. “Not exactly.”
Oh, the poor thing. I’ll bet that girl I saw earlier, the one who looked a bit - slow - is hers. Jesus, Mary, you and your big fat mouth.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what was wrong with the dress?” Her voice is a bit steadier, stronger. She looks tired though. It must be exhausting to have a child like that. But she seems to have gone through the trouble of making herself presentable. Her shoulder length reddish-blond hair sweeps over her shoulders, catching the light so I’m pretty sure she’s getting at least a shower a day in. She doesn’t wear much makeup but it’s not been hastily applied either. Her skin tone is a bit sallow, but whose isn’t in these God awful fluorescent lights?
“It’s too revealing,” I say and look away before she thinks I’m a little off for staring like that.
“There’s a cute beaded Bolero half-jacket that would go with that dress,” she says. “Not that I’m…”
“There is?” I get that she’s not trying to butt in. Maybe she needs to live vicariously if even for a bit. So what? Frankly I could use a little help. Hell, Courtney’s normal, or so the doctors say, and she wears me out. I can’t imagine how it must be for this poor woman.
She nods and smiles. “Shall I go get it?”
Without even thinking, I nod.
“Okay. You go tell her to put the dress back on and I’ll bring it in.” She spins away and disappears, leaving me gaping like an idiot. It takes a moment before my body responds and I walk into the back room.
“Courtney?” I call out.
“What?” Her voice is angst ridden. I suck in my breath.
“Put the dress back on, please.” I practically cringe as the words tumble out of my mouth. What have I gotten myself into?
Door number five opens and Courtney’s auburn hair falls out before I see her peaches-and-cream complected oval face pop out. Her hazel eyes shine. “Serious?”
My throat catches and I nod dumbly.
The stall door clicks shut. “Okay!” she practically squeals.
“Here you are.” The woman appears at my elbow. The plastic arm of the hanger brushes my arm. I look down and take in the lovely jacket. I touch it hesitantly. It is beautiful.
She passes it to me and my fingers automatically search for the tag - we are on a very tight budget - I can’t seem to find one, but it has to be expensive. There’s a security tag on the back.
“I don’t know,” I say as I push it back to the woman. “How much is it?”
“Nine ninety-eight,” she says, not even bothering to take it back.
“Hundred?” I gasp. The hanger pokes into her as I unsteadily jab it at her. She takes a step back and laughs.
“No. Ten dollars and change once tax is added.”
“That can’t be possible.” My mouth tugs downward. “There’s a …”
“Okay, Mom,” Courtney says as she opens the door. We both turn our attention to her. She practically glows.
“Here.” The woman lifts the jacket off the hanger and holds it out. “Try this on.”
Courtney’s breath catches. “Wow, that’s amazing! It’s so beautiful.” Her hand runs gently over the beaded fabric.
Again, I’m left nodding dumbly, absolutely speechless as I watch Courtney turn around and the woman helps her into the jacket.
To be continued…
by Kathie Leung
(c) 2008 - 2009
All Rights Reserved