Chapter 19 #2
The unexpected insult makes me laugh. I don’t know why, but it makes me feel better. Back on even ground. I do as she asks, and the dress falls over my head in a cloud of blossoms.
I turn to look at myself in the bedroom door mirror.
The dress is stunning, no doubt. Pale pink and blush plum blossoms drape over one shoulder, tumble and scatter across the dress.
The other shoulder is bare – bare of blossoms, bare of fabric, showing off a smooth expanse of skin from neck to armpit, but no cleavage, just the line of my collar bone leading into that dip in my shoulder.
I stare at myself. I’m me, but there’s something about the dress that makes me feel taller.
More . . . noticeable? I can’t put my finger on it, but I do like it.
Gingerly, I lift the sheer frothy layer of skirt – it swirls over a pink silk under-dress.
The whole effect makes my skin appear delicate and creamy like Gigi’s, which is odd as I’ve never thought about my skin like that.
The gauze is so fine that when I move, the blossoms seem to flutter as if on a breeze.
Gigi stands back, her eyes shining. ‘This is the one.’
We both stare at my reflection. The person in the mirror tilts her head. She looks uncertain.
‘I don’t know . . .’ I say.
‘What do you mean? It’s perfect. Look at you.’
I close my eyes, try to put my feelings into words. ‘The dress is beautiful, Gigi. But what are people going to think, seeing me—’
She holds a hand up, shushing me.
‘Forget about other people for a second. How do you feel wearing this dress? How do you feel, seeing yourself in this dress?’
The woman in the mirror gazes shyly at me. ‘Fancy,’ she says. ‘Pretty,’ she says. ‘Special,’ she says.
Gigi nods. ‘All that. Because you are a Celestial. And you will, with the love of all Tian, shine like one tonight.’ She takes me by the shoulders and steers me to the dressing table in my bedroom. ‘Now for your hair.’
She plugs in the curling rod then brushes my hair, smoothing and separating long hanks into sections. Has she always been this kind? I wonder how I missed it for so long. Or is it because we aren’t trying to win stuff off each other?
After a while, I ask, ‘What is dragon sight? Lord Black mentioned it the other day, but wouldn’t give me a straight answer,’
‘It’s a little esoteric. Dragons predate the split of realms between yin and yang. They are of the Cosmos – so their sense of past, present, and future is much more entwined with intuition and perception.’
‘So it’s not foresight—’
‘Not really. At least, that’s my understanding. The dragon uncles are terrible at explaining. They like their riddles.’ She picks up the curling rod, gives me a reassuring smile. ‘Don’t be frightened. Only people who don’t know what they’re doing scorch the hair off.’
My faced twists. ‘Scorch the hair off?’ I try to turn but she pulls a box from her sleeve and plonks it on the dressing table. If we were playing kanhoo, I’d be on a face-losing losing streak.
‘Here,’ she says. ‘Choose a hair pin.’
I eye the box and then the curling rod.
‘I promise, I won’t burn your hair. If I do, I’ll let you burn my hair.’
‘Fat lot of good that’ll do me. You’ll just wave your fingers and grow more hair.’
She shrugs, as if to say, And?
I resign myself to her ministrations and pore over the contents of her hair pin box.
Gigi pulls and yanks and primps until I feel like a plucked chicken. But what she does with my hair is nothing short of magical. I have a chic side part and waves all the way down my back.
I turn my head this way and that, admiring the cascading marcelles, the way they shine in the light and how they bounce when I move. I can’t quite believe the woman in the mirror is me.
‘Wah, Gigi.’
Her answering smile is, for the first time since I’ve known her, bashful. She lifts her chin at all the hair pins I’ve laid out. ‘Which one did you choose?’
‘I’m not sure . . . None seem quite right,’ I tell her.
Again, her smile is unfamiliar. Sweet and shy. It is so kind, the backs of my eyes prick and water. I blink quickly to hide the sudden surge of emotion.
‘I was saving this for your birthday,’ she says, pulling something from the depths of her sleeves, ‘but it’s too perfect to keep back.’
‘Just how much stuff do you keep in those?’ I ask.
She laughs. ‘The sleeve pockets are terribly useful! I can make you a dress like this when we get home.’ She hands me the pin, her hand trembling a little.
A jewelled fox frolics in a pile of blossoms, each one made of a small pearl surrounded by dainty petals of polished coral.
Tiny butterflies flit above the flowers, their crystal wings catching the light and casting miniature rainbows.
From the pin dangle strands of pearls and jade beads.
The artistry is exquisite; this is easily the most beautiful hair pin I’ve ever seen.
A lump in my throat makes it hard to speak. My reflection blurs for a moment until I quickly blink things clear again.
‘It’s— I—’
Gigi leans on the dressing table, pats me on the cheek. ‘You’re welcome, ugly,’ Gigi says, her voice soft as she takes the pin from me. She sweeps a section of my shiny waved hair and pins it above my ear with my birthday gift. She gazes at my reflection in the mirror. ‘It’s perfect.’
I don’t look like myself. There’s someone hopeful there – her hair set in the most fashionable of hair styles. The beads sway, the butterflies dance.
‘You look glamorous, Jing. All those other deities can suck turd-eggs.’ Her grin makes me laugh. She gathers her hair pins. ‘Come on, my turn,’ she says, striding into the sitting room. I follow her and she shoves the discarded dresses into my arms.
‘I have matching dancing shoes for that dress in my room. Now it’s your turn to help me get dressed.’ She’s so excited, and I’m still so overcome by her thoughtfulness, I forget to be grumpy as I follow her, my new waves bouncing behind me.