Page 29 of The Maine Event

She does a little twirl, her face glowing with joy. “I hardly recognize myself in it,” she confesses, a hint of shyness in her voice.

I walk over and place my hands on her shoulders, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “You look like the strong, talented, beautiful young woman you are. You’re going to knock the judges’ socks off,” I tell her sincerely.

“You’re right. This is the one,” Chloe declares, a smile spreading across her face.

I nod, mirroring her smile. “It definitely is.”

As we head to the checkout counter, dress in hand, Chloe’s practically skipping beside me, her eyes sparkling with delight. Suddenly, she pauses and looks up at me with a hopeful expression.

“Rachel, do you think we could do a makeup makeover, too? I want to look extra special for the talent show.”

I hesitate, considering her request. While I want nothing more than to make this day perfect for Chloe, I also know that she’s only twelve. Makeup might be a step too far, especially considering how protective Dan can be.

I crouch down to meet her eyes, taking her hands in mine. “Chloe, sweetie, I know you’re excited, but I think a full makeover might be a bit much for now. You’re already so beautiful, inside and out, and I don’t want to take away from that. Not to mention, the talent show is ages away, so the makeup won’t last until then.”

She looks a little disappointed, but nods in understanding. “I guess Dad might not like it either, huh?”

“He just wants you to enjoy being young,” I explain gently. “Tell you what, how about we head to the spa next? We can get pampered with some facials and maybe even a mani-pedi. That way, you’ll feel extra special without going overboard.”

Chloe’s face lights up again. “That sounds amazing! Let’s do it!”

With that, I pay for the dress and head out into the bright afternoon sun. The spa I liked the look of is only a short walk away, nestled in a tranquil corner of the bustling city. As we step inside, the serene atmosphere envelops us immediately. The air is fragrant with essential oils, and soft, soothing music plays in the background.

“Welcome,” the receptionist greets us with a warm smile. “Do you have an appointment?”

“We do,” I confirm, giving her our names.

She checks her computer and nods. “Ah yes, I have you here. Come right this way.”

We’re led to a comfortable, dimly lit room with two plush massage tables side by side. The soothing scent of lavender fills the air, instantly making me feel more relaxed. Chloe and I change into the soft, fluffy robes provided and settle on the tables, sighing contentedly as the warm sheets embrace us.

Our estheticians enter, their voices low and calming as they explain the treatments we’ll be receiving. As they begin to apply the cool, refreshing facial masks, I steal a glance at Chloe. Her eyes are closed, a serene smile playing on her lips. It warms my heart to see her so peaceful and content.

The next hour is a blissful escape from reality. I didn’t know how much I needed this as skilled hands massage my face, arms, and feet. The stress of the past week, my worries about work, and about not closing the GreenShoots deal melt away, leaving only a sense of pure, indulgent relaxation.

“This is, like, amazing,” Chloe murmurs, her voice muffled. “Can we do this every day?”

I chuckle softly. “I wish, sweetie. But that’s what makes it so special, don’t you think?”

She nods, reaching out to squeeze my hand. “Thanks so much, Rachel. This is the best.”

I squeeze back, my heart full. “My pleasure.”

When I look over, there’s something comical about Chloe lying there with a grin on her face and slices of cucumber on her eyes. I can’t resist taking a photo and sending it to Dan.

As our treatments come to an end, we reluctantly sit up, our skin glowing and our bodies relaxed. We thank our estheticians and head to the nail salon area, where, despite Chloe’s incredible attempts at wounded indignation, she finally—if somewhatreluctantly—agrees to clear nail varnish for our manicures and pedicures.

Sitting side by side, admiring our freshly painted nails, Chloe and I chat and giggle like old friends. The spa has worked its magic, not just on our appearances, but on our mood. I could get used to this.

“Come on, I promised you lunch.”

“And ice cream,” Chloe is quick to remind me.

“And ice cream.”

As we pull into the driveway, I can see Dan at the far end of the garden putting the finishing touches to some new guttering on the boathouse. His brow is furrowed in concentration, his movements precise and deliberate. The boathouse has had a fresh coat of red paint and it’s looking very grand. It’s clear he’s poured his heart into this project, just as he pours his heart into everything he does for his family.

Chloe calls out to him, waving enthusiastically with her freshly manicured hand. “Dad! Look at us!”

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