Page 9 of Where Love Lies

Wait—what am I talking about? I haven’t worn heels in so long, I’d probably fall into a bush just trying to get to the sidewalk.

I bite my lip, glancing at the shoes in the bottom of my closet. I wonder if my high-top Converses will look okay with it. Dropping to my knees, I reach for the box in the back. I’ve never worn them. My mom got them for me for my birthday last year, and I was too nervous I’d get something on them. I felt as if their lively outlook didn’t match the way I felt inside. I definitely didn’t want to be seen, and my dark colors not only matched my soul but hid me from wondering eyes. I open the lid. Brand-new butterscotch shoes stare up at me. Running my finger over the fabric, my eyes start to water, thinking about my mom. She tried so hard to brighten my life, and all I did was hide within the four walls of our apartment. Shaking myself out of my grief, I take the box with me and head over to the bed.

I’m wearing them.

I order the mini dress, along with a push-up bra and matching cheeky panties. I don’t plan on anyone seeing them, but they looked nice and wearing something besides my sports bra and mismatching bikini-style panties might feel nice. Maybe. Is it too much?

Palm to my face, I let out a squeal. I’m going to combust from the uncertainty. Butterflies swarm inside my stomach. I haven’t been on a date in years, and the first impression is the most important. I don’t want to come off as a lonely, divorced, single mother, but I also don’t want to look like a hooker. The outfit I ordered doesn’t seem to say either. It’s flattering and looks like something a woman who’s sure of herself would wear—which is what I want.

Setting my phone down, I sigh. Dating feels a lot harder than it did when I was a teenager. Why is that? I’m older and wiser now, you’d think it would be easier. I feel like I’m cooking blindfolded.

5

After locating the perfect place for my plant—a snake plant, I learned—I find myself staring back at my reflection, closely eyeing the brown dress and the way it hugs my waist. I bite back my smile. I cannot believe I’m going to wear this, but, man, it’s so cute paired with my Converse. Grabbing my Sakura Blossom perfume, I mist my body with sweet almonds and tree blossoms.

My phone buzzes on the dresser, the vibration causing it to dance toward the edge. I swipe it before it falls and look to see who it is. The insurance company. A voicemail notification pops up, and I read the dictation. Looks like they’re going to lend me a car until I receive my pay out. Good. One less thing I have to worry about.

I’m pretty sure they have my address, but I did just move, so just in case, I email them the new one and set my phone back down to finish getting ready.

“Hey, Mom—” Paige stops at my door, her mouth parted as if she just walked upon a princess. She scans me from head-to-toe, then tucks her chocolate-colored hair behind her ear, her beautiful face clear of makeup. She’s wearing her favorite black sweats with a matching sports bra. She’s relaxed and comfortable.

“What do you think? Too much?” I glance down at what I’m wearing, not sure if it’s just cute to me or if it actually looks good. Maybe I should change, this feels too weird.

“Wow, I mean, when you said you were going out to lunch with a friend, I didn’t realize it was a date.” She crosses her arms and sits on my bed, staring at me as if I escaped from the zoo. “I mean, I don’t know if it’s a date. Maybe.” My head starts spinning. “Do you think it’s too much for a lunch date?” I’m starting to second-guess this whole thing. I should cancel. I can’t do this.

“What? No! You look amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress,” she says, her tone filled with astonishment. My body temperature begins to rise as my insecurities strangle me. The more people compliment me or take notice of something new like a haircut or shoes, the more uncomfortable I become. I don’t know why I’m like this. You would think any situation that gives you attention would make you want to do more of whatever it is, but it makes me even more self-aware and self-conscious.

“You know what? I know what you need! Wait here!” She holds her index finger up and runs out of the room. Her bare feet slap against the hardwood floor and stomp up the stairs.

“What are you looking for?” She doesn’t reply as she continues to rummage, then her feet hit the stairs once more, before she appears in my doorway, out of breath, a smile full of contentment on her pretty face. She holds her fist between us and slowly unclasps her fingers, revealing a pair of drop earrings. They’re small with a silver chain holding a radiant diamond in the shape of a teardrop. The tear catches in the light and a spectrum of luster dances across the wall and ceiling. I take them in my hand and look up at her. She’s nearly bouncing on her tiptoes with excitement.

“Where did you get these?” I ask, my voice thick with awe.

“Grandma got them from an art fair last year. She said she didn’t know if they were real, but they reminded her of me.” She shrugs, interlocking her fingers in front of her. “She said she traded a painting for them.”

“Wow,” is all I can say. My mother was a free-spirit, through and through. She always made bold decisions and didn’t care what the world thought of her. I wish I had her bravery. “They look real,” I mutter, rubbing the pad of my finger over them.

“You should wear them. I mean, who knows if you’ll get an opportunity to dress up again. The guy may turn out to be a loser, so you should go all out.”

I’ve wanted to switch back to my sweats and a hoodie five times now, and I’ve only had this dress on for twenty-minutes.

I go into my bathroom and slip the earrings into each earlobe piercing. They actually do add something to complete the outfit. I feel pretty and better about myself.

“See? They look good!” Paige whispers, looking at my reflection from behind me. Turning around, I rest my hand on her shoulder, elated she came in when she did. I needed her reassurance. She’s turning into an amazing young lady so fast, I can hardly see the little girl she used to be. It’s unfair how quickly time passes.

“You sure you’re going to be okay here by yourself?” Usually, my mother would be home with her. Now, she’ll be alone.

“It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve been home by myself, Mom.” That teenage tone snaps back into place, and I’m pretty sure she rolls her eyes.

“When?”

“Grandma left a couple times. I think to see her boyfriend or something. I don’t know.”

I do remember coming back once or twice and my mother not being there. It had infuriated me at the time because she was supposed to be watching Paige, not sneaking off like a teenager.

“I know, but this is a new place with different neighbors. I want to make sure you’re comfortable being here by yourself.”

She shakes her head with an annoyed expression. With her right brow lifted, she turns her head to the side. “It’s safer here than the city, don’t you think?”

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