Misalignment | ✔

dress

"Cam!"
my mother yells
as soon as I
walk in the door
after school.
Almost immediately,
I grimace -
I've had a
long day
between what happened
with Matty earlier
and Seth's constant
jeering
at me
in the halls
throughout the afternoon.
My mother,
while having the
full capability
of distracting me from
my horrible day,
is not the person
I want to see
right now.

But like always,
she manages to
surprise me.
As I kick off
my shoes
in the entryway,
she comes running up -
very nearly tripping
over her own feet
in the process -
and breathlessly asks,
"Which one?"
She has
two dresses in hand,
and holds them
out to me
with a pleading expression.

And as she watches,
I just
shrug.

She hasn't
so much as touched
a dress
since before
my father left
the first time.
I can't imagine why
she would now -
why she would
inadvertently
dredge up old memories
like this.
But maybe I'm
just being too
sensitive
after all that
I've dealt with
today.
Maybe it
really
doesn't matter to her
now.
Maybe,
unlike me,
she has finally
moved on.

"What's the occasion?"
I reciprocate
at last,
dodging her question.
"Playing dress-up -
or did you get
a new job
as a model?"

"Ha, ha,"
she says,
rolling her eyes.
I know the look
on her face
well enough
to know that something
is going on, though -
something I probably
won't entirely
like.
"I'm going on a
date.
Isn't it obvious?"

"Do you mean
a dinner conference
with your boss
again?
Because I don't think
that exactly counts
as a-"

"No, it's a
real date -
I swear this time
that it is."
My mother looks
extremely agitated now,
to the point where
I'm wondering
what it is that she
is trying to hide.
I can tell by the way
she's shifting in place,
her eyes darting between
me and the dresses,
me and the dresses,
me and the...

Then it dawns on me.
"Are you...
late?"

"Yes,"
she groans,
"so please hurry and
help me.
What do I wear?
Which is going to make
a good first impression?"

She's progressed into
full-blown panic mode,
and I can feel myself
heading towards that point
as well.
What to wear
certainly is
a good question.
I've never been good
with clothing
or fashion
in general -
so this is
entirely too far
out of my comfort zone
for me to handle.
The only thing that would
make it worse
would be if
she asks me
to do her
makeup
for her, too.
If she does,
I hope she enjoys
going on her date
looking like a clown.

But she's my mother,
and even in spite of
my own shortcomings,
I have to help her
with hers,
because that's what
family does.
I have to
help her...
somehow.

"Red or blue?"
she prods,
waving both options
in the air
before me.
"Honey, please-"

"Just put one on -
I'm sure your date
won't care-"

"But I have to
look nice!"
she protests,
waving her arms 
full of dresses
about once more.
Somehow, I wonder
if she'll end up
ruining them
by flailing them about
like that.

"They both
look nice!"
I throw back,
exasperated.
"You know I'm
horrible
when it comes to
these kinds of things -
look, just
wear what's comfortable
for you.
Don't worry about
whoever you're
going out with.
They can deal with
whatever
you throw at them,
I'm sure."
I pause
for half a second.
"Well,
maybe not all
of it -
but your opinion
is all that matters,
so go for whichever
dress
you like best."

I'm halfway surprised by that -
I don't make speeches
as decent as that one
very often.
I'm pleasantly surprised -
and in fact,
maybe even a little proud
of myself...
Until I see the
baffled expression
frozen on my mother's
face.
Her dilemma becomes
obvious to me
in a few more seconds:

She can't decide.
She likes
both dresses
equally.

"I don't know
about you,"
I finally sigh,
defeated,
"but I think the
blue one
would look good
with your hair..."

A second more -
and then she vigorously nods,
springing into action again
with an energy that
almost startles me.
Hurrying back
the way she had
earlier come,
she soon disappears
from sight.

I have enough time to
deposit my school things
in my room
before she returns,
looking much different
than the messy-haired,
casually-dressed person
Matty had met
a few days prior.
She actually looks
really nice -
but before I can
tell her so,
she sweeps past me
to retrieve her purse,
kisses my forehead,
and calls back
a farewell
as she darts out the door.

And as I hear her
peel out of
our driveway
in her beat up SUV,
I can only hope
that she doesn't hit any
cars
or mailboxes
or even her date
over the course of
the night.
I think that maybe
hoping
is all I can do
for her now...

×

Here's some more Flory shenanigans to break the tension. c: But the drama will be back soon, never fear.......it will make everyone cry, or so help me, I will eat my hAT-

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