9. Giselle #2
But I also knew what it was like to fight my body, to feel wrong in my own skin. For food to be more of an enemy and stressor than a comfort. It sucked balls, to be frank, and wrecked my self-esteem.
“The purple one,” my brother said, reaching out and gently rustling the fabric. “It’s kind of dreamy. Almost a little fantasy-like.”
“You don’t think it’s too OTT?”
“OTT?”
“Over the top,” I explained. Even though he was an adult at twenty-five, I still found him utterly adorable.
He was a hotel manager and dealing with an absolute nightmare now that his chain had been bought out by a bigger one and the new duty manager was trying to prove themselves by being a hard-ass.
Yet, somehow, he was still a daydreamer.
I wished it was more viable for him to live a life where he could pursue his artistic hobbies full-time, but unfortunately, money ruled the world, and he had to make sure he could survive before he could indulge that side of him.
But he never let the grind crush him. He never seemed to forget whole chunks of himself like I had.
Maybe there was actually quite a bit I could learn from my younger siblings.
“Nah. Times are stressful, ya know? Everyone seems to be struggling or recovering. That black dress is nice, but it’s so… I dunno, current. This purple one, it kind of feels like a time lost. When the simple things were more appreciated and everything wasn’t about the freshest trend.”
“All that from a purple dress, huh?”
“Well, technically I think you’d call it a lavender dress, but yes. You think I grew up with you without learning a little bit about fashion?”
“Ha! Fair enough.” Long ago, I’d had faint dreams about being a fashion designer, but early on in my teens, I’d figured out I’d wanted to go into the education system and hadn’t looked back. “Thank you, Simon.”
“No probs, dorkus.” He winked at me. “You know you’re gonna knock him dead, right?”
I blushed even as love for my brother threatened to burst out of my chest. I had met a lot of broken people from broken families in my life, so I would always be grateful for the amazing one I’d been handed. It easily could have gone the other way with the health complications that had rocked us.
“I hope so.”
“I know so.”
The moment was a little too intense, a little too raw, so he shot me some finger guns. We both laughed. Goodness, I loved him so much. We’d been through a whole lot together, and I hoped the rest of our journey would be a little easier.
With my dress set aside, I picked out my accessories, stockings, and shoes, then decided what wig to wear.
He’d seen me as a redhead and as my half-bald self.
Maybe a pale blonde. Not quite icy, but definitely around a six-one-three.
Normally, that shade tended to wash pale people like me out, but with the soft purple of the dress, it would all combine to make me look a bit ethereal.
At least, that was the hope. Some sort of cross between a fifties housewife and a fairy. That was in this season, right?
Chuckling, I began my makeup routine, my final look forming in my head. Technically, I could wait at least another hour and still be ready early, but I wanted to take my time. That way, if I messed anything up because of a hand tremor, I wouldn’t have to worry about it.
It was nice falling into that rhythm, getting to do myself up a bit more than I did for my class. I really enjoyed the rare occasion that I got to play around with makeup.
I guess I’d kind of forgotten about that too.
How many pieces of me had I left littered behind.
And for what? It wasn’t like the school demanded I give up all other aspects of my life.
And it wasn’t like I was so broke that I didn’t have enough food to eat or was worried about losing my home.
I’d lost myself, and I hadn’t even really been aware it was happening.
Huh.
This date was giving me a whole lot to think about. At least I was getting all the mind-spinning done before we went to dinner, rather than getting locked into a thought spiral over a delicious tiramisu.
God, I hoped wherever we were going had tiramisu.
I could have asked Ben what restaurant we were going to, but I wanted it to be a surprise. If I knew ahead of time, I’d look up the menu online and overanalyze it, then get in my own head about what to order. It would be much more fun to be in the moment.
I was going to try to do more of that going forward.
I stepped back from the mirror and studied my reflection.
I’d opted for pastels, sparkles, and lots of highlighter.
Despite the amount of product I used, I was left with a light, airy look complete with soft, pink lips and a blushed center.
I hadn’t done a dual tone on my mouth in ages, and I was reminded of how fun makeup could be.
“There you are,” I murmured to myself, looking at the soft mint on my lid and the slightly glimmery nude in my crease. “Missed you, lady.”
Time to get dressed. Stockings were always annoying to put on, so I made sure I went and peed before wiggling into them. And once I was into them, I took a few minutes to just sit and catch my breath. As much as I loved dressing up, sometimes it was a workout in and of itself.
Once I’d caught my breath and all threat of sweating off my just-set foundation ceased, I finished dressing, then put on accessories. Nothing too crazy—a ring, a necklace, and simple pearl earrings. Faux pearl, of course. They went with my outfit and made me feel pretty, so that was what mattered.
Finally, I was all primped and primed with my shoes in my hand. I preferred not to put those on until I was downstairs, since we were a shoe-free household unless someone was wearing house slippers. It kept our carpets cleaner, and we all despised vacuuming, so it was more than worth it.
I glanced at my phone. Somehow, I only had half an hour before Ben came to pick me up. Wow. I was definitely more than glad that I had gotten a head start. If I hadn’t, I’d definitely be rushing, and I hated rushing.
I sat in my room for about five minutes before I got too antsy and headed down the stairs.
While I knew my brother and father were home, I didn’t expect them to both be waiting at the end of the short hallway.
“Oh, hello there!”
My brother applauded lightly in response while my father placed his hands over his heart, looking a bit teary-eyed.
“You look beautiful, my dear,” he said, voice thick. He opened his arms, and I went to him, not caring if it would wrinkle my dress. Unfortunately, when I was far too young, I’d learned the lesson that hugs were a finite resource, and one day you’d be hugging someone you loved for the last time.
“Thank you, Daddy,” I said, letting the comfort of his embrace wash over me.
God, I hoped I was just being paranoid about all the things I was noticing.
I had lost so much in life, and I wasn’t ready to go through losing a parent again.
It would happen eventually, but did that eventually have to be now?
Jeez, Giselle, lighten up.
Okay, fair enough.
Giving him one last squeeze, I pulled away and looked at my brother, who was grinning brightly.
“You look like yourself,” he said with a firm nod. “And for the record, I was absolutely right about the purple.”
“Yes, you were,” I agreed.
Together, the three of us went to the kitchen.
My father drank some tea, while my brother sipped on a water bottle.
He had sensitive teeth and cold could sometimes set off a pain response.
I opted not to drink anything, because I was afraid I’d need to pee in the middle of the meal.
Or worse, the car ride. It was kind of hard to be a gracious and ethereal date if I was clenching my legs together in an effort not to piss myself.
Bathroom worries aside, I had some lovely conversation with my father and brother.
Simon updated us on work, and I got a little hot goss from Dad about his walking group.
Nothing too spicy like an affair or divorce, but there was an issue with Donna saying that Craig’s dog had impregnated her prize poodle, and in Dad’s world, that spelled DRAMA.
Before I knew it, the ten-minute alarm I’d set on my phone buzzed. Nervously, I glanced at the screen. There were no last-minute texts of him canceling, but there was still time. I’d once had a friend-date where she canceled an hour after we were supposed to meet.
Still, I refused to fall into a spiral of paranoia or worry.
After putting on my shoes, I headed to the door.
I grabbed my shrug and put it on while I stared out across our porch.
I could wait outside, but the sun had set, and it was a bit too chilly for me to be out there longer than a few minutes.
Being cold forced the body to burn extra calories, which was something I was trying to avoid—I’d slacked off and hadn’t bought more Ensure, so I definitely needed to keep the calories from leaving my body.
Was I determined to really be good about my diet and recovery? Of course. But was I also going to procrastinate as long as possible on those drinks? Also, of course. I was but a human, and I was flawed.
Thankfully, I wasn’t left to languish about my supplemental shake shortage, because a car pulled up to the front of the house, and I heard the door open. Oh, so he wasn’t just going to text that he had arrived? What a gentleman.
Huh, the bar was really low, wasn’t it?
“Hey there,” Ben said as he stepped onto the porch.
Holy hell, he had no right to look so stunning with those ridiculous yellow lights beating down onto his head.
And yet he looked like Prince Charming approaching my doorstep.
The harsh light made his blond hair shimmer, and his blue eyes practically glowed in a way that was borderline unnerving.
Except I wasn’t unnerved at all. No, not unnerved.
Completely attracted to this man? Definitely.
It wasn’t just the ridiculously broad expanse of his shoulders, or his many muscles that were apparent through his shirt and jacket, or even the dashing smile he shot me as I fully opened the screen door and stepped out.
No, there was an almost gravitational force to him, something that compelled me to be closer, to bask in his presence.
Or maybe I was just really hard up.
But that reasoning rang false in my head as I returned his smile.
“Hey there,” I replied. I wasn’t normally a particularly meek person, nor was I very loud or outspoken.
I liked to think of myself as a talkative person who spoke at an average volume but also valued whatever my conversation partner had to say.
But in front of Ben? Well, he had me feeling all sorts of tongue-tied.
“I hope you’re hungry,” he said, offering me his thick forearm.
Not to be particularly Victorian, but he’d rolled the sleeves of his gray dress shirt up to his elbows and whoo boy was that doing things for me.
It wasn’t quite as puritan as lusting over his ankles, but many women would agree with me that such a thing was drop-dead sexy.
“Starving,” I replied, realizing that I had let there be a bit too long of a pause after his question. I wanted to be in the moment, not caught up in my head, so I tucked away my inner snarky monologue and focused on what was actually being said. “Do I get to know where we’re going?”
“Yeah, where are you taking my daughter?”
I jolted at the question and whirled to see my father and brother standing in the doorway behind the screen door. How had I not realized that they’d walked up behind me?
“Out to a lovely dinner. There’s a place I’ve been hoping to try, and I can’t imagine more pleasant company for the meal.”
Ooh, that was smooth. And thankfully, my father and brother knew better than to launch into some silly shovel talk.
My father nodded at Ben. “Sounds good. Don’t be afraid to bring leftovers.”
“Especially flan, if they have it,” my brother added. “Or cannoli.”
Ben flashed them a rueful smile. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but it almost seems that you might be fishing.”
“Me? I would never!” Simon winked at me, and it was difficult not to roll my eyes at his cheekiness. At least it was in good nature, which a lot of people couldn’t say when their dates met their family. “I’ve always loved surprises and never try to spoil them.”
I snorted, and Ben gave me a confused look, cocking an eyebrow. Much to my surprise, it was my father who explained instead of me.
“When the kids were much younger, we had to be very inventive about where we hid the Christmas presents, because Simon here would make it his mission to find them and spoil the surprise.”
My brother had the decency to look chagrined as he shrugged, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “To be fair, I stopped when I was six and figured out how awful that was.”
“It’s true, he did,” I said. “Goodnight, you two. I’ll be back later. You can shut the door now.”
Rolling his eyes, my brother closed the door.
“You have a lovely family,” he said, and it seemed like he really meant it. Now it was my turn to blush. Even though it wasn’t a compliment for me personally, I quite liked it when other people were kind or flattering to those I loved.
“Shall we?” he asked, gesturing to his car, light of the vehicle still on.
“Let’s,” I said, grinning wide enough to crease my lipstick. I didn’t care.
I could already tell it was going to be a great date.