(Hello to all! Just a little something I jotted down to test the waters here. I have enjoyed much of what I have read on these pages. Thanks for letting me be a part of your group.)
“So, what do you think?” I looked at her. Her face was beaming with excitement, yet her eyes were seeking my approval. She gently held the creamy satin material out away from her thigh and twirled around slowly. My mind shouted, I think you are too young. I think it is too soon. I think I am not ready for this. “I think you look beautiful.” I said and I gave her a smile to hide my welling panic and fear.
She turned again to look at herself in the mirror. I watched as her fingertips traced the elegant bead work that fanned across her chest where the satin fabric met the delicate lace that embraced the base of her neck. There was a soft smile on her lips and a distant dreamy look in her eyes. Where had her thoughts taken her? Was she picturing herself on that all too quickly approaching day? Her beautiful face illuminated by the dancing amber glow of countless candles. Was she imagining what her life would be like ten years from now?
As I sat there looking at her, my mind too began to drift. I thought back to the first time she had been in a long white satin and lace dress. On that day, there had been no veil, only a tiny cap of satin fabric gently nestled against her soft fine layer of angel hair and secured under her chubby chin by the thinnest of white ribbons. She had wiggled and cooed as the little drops of water were placed on her forehead and she was christened my Emily Rose.
The image before me shifted and I saw her twirling around in front of me. She was perched on her tippy-toes in soft satin slippers. Her arms stretched over her head, arched together, fingertips touching. Her legs were clad in little white tights and an airy puff of tulle encircled her hips. Her five year old cheeks were pink with stage makeup. “Look at me mommy. What do you think?” I was just about to tell her how she was the best little swan at the recital, when I blinked and the scene changed once more.
My little ballerina was gone and in her place was a precocious seven year old bride. My favorite cream colored satin nightgown had been transformed into a lovely wedding dress. The silky fabric pooled around her feet. A small old lace table cover had become a makeshift veil. A string of pearls hung around her neck and my best lipstick covered slightly more than her tiny lips. She wobbled as she turned to face me in a pair of over sized shoes. I could see her bouquet looked suspiciously like our neighbors prized Azaleas with little clumps of dirt still clinging to the roots. “What do you think, mommy? I am practicing for my wedding.” A smiled curved my lips.
I closed my eyes to savor the memory for just a moment longer. When I opened them again, I was face to face with a vision in white. A beautiful young schoolgirl with her hair swept up and tiny flowers sprinkled about like a botanical halo. She nervously picked at a loose curly tendril that hung from her left temple. The sweet scent from the white orchid she wore on her wrist danced around her. When she turned slowly in a circle, the layers of satin and netting swirled around her like an ethereal mist. “Well mom, am I royal material?” She may not have been the queen of the prom that night but she was definitely my princess.
“You know what I was just thinking?” Her voice shook me out of my dream. She was still facing the mirror and speaking to my reflection. “I was thinking how I have spent my whole life dreaming about what it would be like to be a grown up and to be married and to have kids. Sometimes it felt like I was never going to get there, but here I am, all grown up and getting married.” She turned slowly from side to side studying her reflection.
I thought about the ghosts of the past that had come to visit me. I thought about how they had taken away those feelings of fear and panic and replaced them with warm memories and a sense of pride.
I closed the space between us and stood next to her, admiring her reflection. “Mom, do you really think I look beautiful?” I reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “You look just as beautiful to me as you did the first time I saw you dressed for your wedding.” “What do you mean, the first time?” A gentle look of bewilderment splayed over her face. “Don’t you remember when you were little and dressed up for your practice wedding?” Remembrance washed over her and she chuckled softly. “Oh mom, what was I, like seven or eight? That’s ancient history.” I hugged her close to me and whispered, “No my darling, to me it was only a moment ago.”
“So, what do you think?” I looked at her. Her face was beaming with excitement, yet her eyes were seeking my approval. She gently held the creamy satin material out away from her thigh and twirled around slowly. My mind shouted, I think you are too young. I think it is too soon. I think I am not ready for this. “I think you look beautiful.” I said and I gave her a smile to hide my welling panic and fear.
She turned again to look at herself in the mirror. I watched as her fingertips traced the elegant bead work that fanned across her chest where the satin fabric met the delicate lace that embraced the base of her neck. There was a soft smile on her lips and a distant dreamy look in her eyes. Where had her thoughts taken her? Was she picturing herself on that all too quickly approaching day? Her beautiful face illuminated by the dancing amber glow of countless candles. Was she imagining what her life would be like ten years from now?
As I sat there looking at her, my mind too began to drift. I thought back to the first time she had been in a long white satin and lace dress. On that day, there had been no veil, only a tiny cap of satin fabric gently nestled against her soft fine layer of angel hair and secured under her chubby chin by the thinnest of white ribbons. She had wiggled and cooed as the little drops of water were placed on her forehead and she was christened my Emily Rose.
The image before me shifted and I saw her twirling around in front of me. She was perched on her tippy-toes in soft satin slippers. Her arms stretched over her head, arched together, fingertips touching. Her legs were clad in little white tights and an airy puff of tulle encircled her hips. Her five year old cheeks were pink with stage makeup. “Look at me mommy. What do you think?” I was just about to tell her how she was the best little swan at the recital, when I blinked and the scene changed once more.
My little ballerina was gone and in her place was a precocious seven year old bride. My favorite cream colored satin nightgown had been transformed into a lovely wedding dress. The silky fabric pooled around her feet. A small old lace table cover had become a makeshift veil. A string of pearls hung around her neck and my best lipstick covered slightly more than her tiny lips. She wobbled as she turned to face me in a pair of over sized shoes. I could see her bouquet looked suspiciously like our neighbors prized Azaleas with little clumps of dirt still clinging to the roots. “What do you think, mommy? I am practicing for my wedding.” A smiled curved my lips.
I closed my eyes to savor the memory for just a moment longer. When I opened them again, I was face to face with a vision in white. A beautiful young schoolgirl with her hair swept up and tiny flowers sprinkled about like a botanical halo. She nervously picked at a loose curly tendril that hung from her left temple. The sweet scent from the white orchid she wore on her wrist danced around her. When she turned slowly in a circle, the layers of satin and netting swirled around her like an ethereal mist. “Well mom, am I royal material?” She may not have been the queen of the prom that night but she was definitely my princess.
“You know what I was just thinking?” Her voice shook me out of my dream. She was still facing the mirror and speaking to my reflection. “I was thinking how I have spent my whole life dreaming about what it would be like to be a grown up and to be married and to have kids. Sometimes it felt like I was never going to get there, but here I am, all grown up and getting married.” She turned slowly from side to side studying her reflection.
I thought about the ghosts of the past that had come to visit me. I thought about how they had taken away those feelings of fear and panic and replaced them with warm memories and a sense of pride.
I closed the space between us and stood next to her, admiring her reflection. “Mom, do you really think I look beautiful?” I reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “You look just as beautiful to me as you did the first time I saw you dressed for your wedding.” “What do you mean, the first time?” A gentle look of bewilderment splayed over her face. “Don’t you remember when you were little and dressed up for your practice wedding?” Remembrance washed over her and she chuckled softly. “Oh mom, what was I, like seven or eight? That’s ancient history.” I hugged her close to me and whispered, “No my darling, to me it was only a moment ago.”
3 comments:
I thoroughly enjoyed this!!! There is acertain young lady who I know that I couldn't help picturing as I read this.
I love the imagery you use here, the feel of the fabrics and the flow of them as she spins was exceptionally vivid.
I'm really glad you posted this!!
I am sure that it makes a great deal of difference in the appreciation of this story if the reader happens to be a parent. I am not a parent so please take what I say with a giant grain of salt. :)
Overall, I thought the story seems dangerously close to being a Hallmark commercial. In fact, I seem to remember one where the scene is almost identical to the one described only the girl is with her father and not her mother. That similarity doesn't mean you can't write a story like this only that it requires a very novel ending or some interesting twists or maybe just some fresh insight.
I think what you could do with this is to play the what if game. There's no tension in this story so you could start by thinking what if the mother is seriously opposing the marriage and the girl knows that she's pregnant already and hasn't told her mom. That's old hat of course but I was tossing it out as an obvious example of how you could add some tension and complication to the plot.
On the subject of the writing, that would be first rate. The description is nicely handled even the description of the wedding dress was nicely handled. It threatened to be too long but it was nicely woven into the description of the scene and that worked for me.
You're a good writer in my opinion, Mikki, so I hope you'll keep at it and post some more. Thanks very much.
hey Mikki when will be seeing more?
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