Not the Only One (Book 1 in the Four of Us Trilogy)

Fifty - April 28, 2018

Rachel

"Mom!" I yelled frantically from my bathroom. "I need you!"

She scrambled into the room, almost sliding on the wood in her sock feet. "What, baby?"

"My hair! It just won't cooperate!" I whined, standing in front of the mirror in my strapless bra and cotton panties (actual underwear to be put on when Mom leaves the room).

"Oh, honey, let me help you," she said, rushing in and taking the curling iron out of my hands.

My mom had gone to cosmetology school after she graduated, and had styled her friends' and family's hair for years. She had a salon in the basement, and while she didn't really accept new clients, she was really excellent.

"Let's go downstairs," she suggested, handing me my robe that hung on the back of the bathroom door.

"All right. Thanks, Mom," I said sheepishly, slipping my arms into the silk sleeves.

"Of course, babydoll. Why didn't you just ask?" she said.

I shrugged. "I just wanted to try to do it myself, I guess..." I said as we descended the stairs in the back of our house that led straight to the basement.

"My independent girl. It's okay to ask for help, Rach," she said, squeezing my shoulder as I sat down in her salon chair in front of the mirror.

"I know... thanks for always being there... and for being the Mom you are," I said, thinking of Miles and his disappointment with his father.

"I'd never want to be anything else," she said, leaning over and kissing my cheek. "Now let's fix this hair," she said, beginning to work her magic.

***

An hour later, Mom had done my hair and helped me with my makeup, and I was alone in my room, looking at myself in my full-length mirror. I had changed underwear – a black lace strapless bra with matching black lace cheekies. I pulled my dress off the hanger, stepping into it and managing to zip it myself. When I turned around to look in the mirror, I felt pretty happy with what I saw.

In fact, I felt really good. I was suddenly very glad I hadn't shown Miles my dress yet. It was a mermaid style, bright pink with an intricately beaded strapless top. My blonde hair was half up, half down, curly over my shoulders, almost the way it was the night at the club. My makeup was glowing, but natural.

I checked my phone and it was 3:50. Oh God. Miles would be here soon.

I took a deep breath and picked up my clutch, putting my phone and lipstick inside, making my way downstairs.

When I got to the living room, my dad stood up and he had tears in his eyes. "Rachel. You look so beautiful," he said, wrapping me in a gentle hug. "I wish James could see you..." he said sadly, a tear falling from his eye.

"Awww, Daddy," I said, giving him a swift kiss on the cheek then wiping the tear away.

Right then, I heard a door shut outside. Dad cleared his throat, peeked out the door and turned to me grinning.

"Your ride's here."

"Oh gosh," I squeaked, smoothing my dress and straightening my hair.

"You look beautiful, baby. Relax," Mom said, grabbing my hand.

The doorbell rang then, and Dad walked to the door, casting one more look at me over his shoulder before flinging it open.

"Hey, Miles," he greeted, and when Dad stepped aside for him to come through, my stomach flipped and my throat constricted, making it hard to breathe.