The Cages You Build

Chapter twenty-one~Maybe

In the chaos of the backstage changing room, Mia looked out-of-place like a steady anchor in the middle of a storm. Dresses were being shimmied out of and yanked over people's heads. Noses were being powdered and shoes were being taken off in the midst of a constant influx and outflow of models to and from the runway.

All while Mia breathed in and out, trying to steady her heartbeat. She wasn't being worked like the others. She only had to make two appearances and she'd already gone out once. After changing out of a sparkly, knee-length dress, she'd been slipped into this one. Her creation.

She tilted her head back to keep the tears at bay, hoping no one would notice. No one would ever, ever understand what this meant to her. Designing had always been a pipe dream, an illusive "someday" she never thought she'd reach. No one would take her seriously. All the fashion houses she'd tried to pitch her ideas to ended up trying to recruit her. They wanted her to model their designs, as if that was all she could be good for. She couldn't count the number of business cards that had been slipped into her hand in case she decided to "change her mind".

Even mother had laughed her to scorn.

"You want to sew with those hands? Oh darling, don't be ridiculous."

Mia looked down at her hands. Lady fingers, mother said. Softened by manicures, not cut out for work.

Mia put her hands over her face and bit down a sob. She felt like she'd just torn down another mental stronghold.

She was good for something.
She wasn't anybody's doll.
She was talented.
She did have value.

She didn't know why she was remembering all these things now, or why she felt so emotional. Maybe all the years of being told to shut up and look pretty were finally ripping her open inside.

She jerked when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see Dennis Savage's concerned face.

"Are you okay?"

Mia couldn't even bring herself to smile. "I will be."

"You better be. You'll be up in a few."

Mia looked in the direction of the runway entrance. There was a lineup of models waiting their turn and she'd have to join them any minute now.

Dennis gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You did it. I didn't think you had it in you but you surprised me." He gave a short, reaffirming nod. "You made Mary Rauthbourne admit she was wrong and change her mind. And for that, you'll always have my respect."

Mia felt soaked in sunshine, like a child receiving a pat on the head. Dennis patted her shoulder once more before moving away. In a flash, someone rushed in to touch up her already perfect makeup. One of the least interesting moments of modeling was getting "made up". She stood as the dress was re-examined to see that it fit perfectly before joining the lineup.

The girl at the head of the line disappeared onstage and Mia took a step forward. Her stomach quivered but she put a brave face on it. She'd never done runway modeling before now, though Mary said no one would notice unless she told them. After all the training she'd been forced to endure, they'd better not.

Mia took another step forward. In spite of everything, she wished her mother were here, at least to see that all her work wasn't in vain. No, Mia corrected herself, quelling the nasty thought. She just wished her mother was here. Mia had called her earlier.

"It'll be on TV. You can watch if you want to," she'd offered, throwing out a branch and hoping her mother would catch it.

"Oh." There'd been silence for a minute. "That makes me very happy." Her mother's voice had sounded different, quieter. "Maybe when you're back, we can visit?" For a minute, the only sound over the line was the sound of her breathing. "We have a lot of things to say to each other."