Page 199 of Ice Darling
“Gordie, what’s wrong?” I observe her face carefully. This doesn’t seem like an episode.
For one thing, she’s talking.
And for another, her eyes don’t have a vacant look either.
“Do you not want to go to the party?” I ask.
Gordie hesitates, and then she shakes her head no.
“Okay.” I reach for the door handle again. “I’ll tell Mom. We can drive straight home and have our own private tea party. Is that okay?”
Gordie chews on her bottom lip.
Seeing that she doesn’t automatically agree to my plan, I figure that shedoeswant to attend the party.
“What are you so afraid of?” I ask her as gently as I can.
She tugs at the sparkly skirt and lifts a shoulder.
“Is this not your style?” I glance at the tiara. “Do you feel uncomfortable?”
She shakes her head.
“Then…is it because Vinnie’s not being nice to you lately? Do you feel awkward about going to her party?”
“I don’t know.” She stretches her little hands and rubs the side of her face in a move that is decidedly like Renthrow. “My dress is too pretty. And the tiara’s pretty too. And I feel pretty.”
“Gordie, there’s nothing wrong with feeling pretty. As long as you know that the dress and your hair and the tiara aren’t what make you pretty. You were so,sopretty before all of it.”
“But now everyone will look at me.”
“And that makes you shy?”
She nods slowly.
I hold my hand out to her. She slips her little fingers in mine, and I pull her to her feet. “My sister used to be just like you. She was so scared of people watching her that she once ran straight off the stage during her pageant.”
As I speak, I wait for the knifing sensation to come, but it doesn’t. Somehow, hearing that Gwen didn’t hold bad feelings toward me, that she didn’t resent me the way I thought she did, frees me.
“I told Gwen something I’m going to tell you right now.”
Gordie stares at me with those beautiful, light brown eyes. For a moment, I see Gwen standing there instead of her, and my voice trembles as I recite, “Being pretty just means you shine in your own way.”
Gordie looks at me, soaking in my words.
I rub her hand. “You being you…that’s what makes you pretty. So you walk into that arcade with confidence. The moment you enter those doors, you’ll light up the entire room.”
Gordie’s fearful expression gives way to a smile. “Thanks, Delia.”
I adjust her tiara, careful not to mess up her fancy hairdo. “Let’s rock and roll.”
On the pavement, Mom and Mills have commandeered a shopping cart from a nearby grocery store. They’ve piled all the gifts for the birthday girl and Gordie’s other friends into it.
Gordie tightens her hold on my hand as she, Mom, and I approach the arcade.
“You look fabulous, Gordie-girl!” Mom speaks in her pageant-coach voice. “You strut into that room with your head held high and your hands on your hips like this.” Mom demonstrates the walk. “And you bounce, so your hair moves. Watch.” She points at her hair. “I’m creating my own wind.”
Gordie giggles.
