Lisa stared into the mirror, adjusting the bow tie a bit. She'd been pleasantly surprised that the first shop she'd gone into had tuxedos for women. There were four places in Estes Park that rented formal wear. She had been prepared to have to hit them all to find what she wanted.
"You look so pretty."
Lisa turned to her mother. "I'm a dyke in a tuxedo. You can't say pretty."
Her mother grabbed her lapel and pulled it tighter. "What should I say? Handsome? You're that too. And I don't like you calling yourself a dyke. It's offensive."
Lisa rolled her eyes. "I am what I am, Mom."
Her mother fussed with her tie a bit, stalling. She finally dropped her hands. "When you were young, a toddler, you were so darn cute," she said. "I'd thought about sending your photo to a modeling agency."
"Seriously?"
"Yes. You've seen your baby pictures, Lisa. You were adorable." She laughed. "Not to insinuate that you're not still."
"Well, thank you for not doing it."
"I had visions of you in commercials or maybe modeling."
"Modeling?" She laughed. "I was a farm girl with skinned up knees."
Her mother waved her hand in protest. "Regardless...you were an adorable farm girl. And you've grown into such a beautiful woman."
Lisa took her mother's hands. "I'm sorry I wasn't the girl you wanted, Mom. You had visions of twirling and cheerleading and ballet classes. I'm sorry I wasn't all that."
Her mother squeezed her hands. "Don't you dare say you're sorry. I wouldn't trade you for anyone in the world."
As their hands held, Lisa blinked tears away as she saw her mother's eyes well over too. She finally pulled her mother into a tight embrace.
"You're the best, Mom," she whispered in her ear.
When they pulled apart, her mother dabbed at the tears in her own eyes. "Well, I happen to think that you're the best too."
Lisa took a step away, trying to get her emotions under control. "I should warn you, Roseanne expects a dance tonight. With me."
Her mother smiled. "She does? That's great. Did you make another pass at her like we suggested?"
Lisa shook her head. "Actually, she made a pass at me." She smiled, embarrassed. "She kissed me."
Her mother's eyes widened. "What does that mean?"
"It means I'm in trouble. Big trouble."
* * *
Roseanne and Vivianne took a casual stroll inside the ballroom, looking at all the Christmas decorations Bruce and his staff had managed to cram inside. It was so overdone, so jam-packed with colorful trees and lights and red and green garland...and it was beautiful in spite of the excess.
"I'm in love with it," Vivianne said again. "It's like Christmas overload."
"I have to admit, it's very pretty," Roseanne said. Christmas carols were playing quietly in the background and she found herself humming along.
"You look gorgeous, by the way," Vivianne said. "I'm jealous. That dress is awesome. Where'd you get it?"
Roseanne smiled. "You thought I'd wear a suit, didn't you?"
"It crossed my mind."
"Well, I didn't shop for it. I told Bernie what I wanted."
"Wow. Mother let you borrow Bernie? She was probably shocked that you even asked." She touched the dress. "What shade of blue is that? It has a lavender tint to it."
