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chapter twenty-eight promising young woman
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Isadora Windsor was a promising young woman. She bled gold instead of blood or pyrite, and her bones were carved from diamonds, not connective tissue or quartz. Metaphorically, of course.
Not only that, but she had something special that others strived to obtain. It had always been that way (you know before everything went to complete shit). She supposed she could thank the etiquette classes that her father enrolled her in when she was in junior high. Yeah, you heard that right . . . etiquette classes. Trust her, she knew how it sounded, but her father had always been . . . overbearing, she guessed was a good way to describe the insufferable man. So, etiquette classes were another one of his ways of controlling the young girl. It didn't matter if eleven-year-old Izzy Windsor wanted to set up playhouses for her dolls or paint her favorite movie characters, she had to learn how to be a proper lady according to her father.
The girl briefly remembered her mother trying to stop the man from dictating the girl's entire young life, but that only ended in a fight. So Julia settled for picking up Izzy from the classes or not taking her at all just so the two of them could go off and spend the day doing something that didn't involve teaching a child how to grow up. And Julia's idea of fun was taking her daughter to the beach for the day. Now, Izzy had hated that because her mother always attempted to get the girl to come into the water, but Izzy would stand there, pouting and shaking her head because the water was cold, and wet, and scary, and she did not do any of those things.
Izzy circa now wished she had just sucked it up and gone into the water.
But Izzy circa then did not think the same way. Because Izzy Windsor in the past was a promising young woman. That is what her teachers taught her. That is what her father told her. That is what those stupid etiquette classes engrained into her malleable brain. So when Julia Windsor would steal her away from said stupid classes and drive her to the beach, expecting to search for sand dollars in the depths, that is not what happened. Instead, Izzy would stand just before where the water met the sand, and stare at the waves ahead of her, but she wouldn't dare step foot in the water. Because playing in the water, getting sand in her hair and underneath her fingernails, and having her ears clogged with saltwater was not what a promising young woman did.
