The Beauty Underneath

Chapter Six: Getting to Know You

Since their death, this was the first time I dreamt about my parents.

I was fourteen, then, and the four of us – Dad, Mom, Simon and I – were having a picnic in a park. It was summer and we had lunch, eating sandwiches and fruits and a whole lot of other things. We were done eating and I was humming to myself a song I’ve just learned. Dad and Simon were playing ball while Mom was leaning against the tree, reading a classic novel.

“I wish everyday would be like this,” I told her.

She looked up from her book and smiled. Mom was always beautiful. Even though she’s sad, angry, confused, embarrassed… she always managed to look pretty. I didn’t inherit her beautiful golden blonde hair. I inherited her grey eyes though. And her cheekbones and her pouty lips.

“Wouldn’t it get tiring?” she said, shrugging her small shoulders. Mom was never a sporty-type. She’s the kind of girl who’d rather stay inside the house and read anything that could be read. She might be a simple librarian from the bookstore that we keep, but you don’t know what she’s capable of.

“I suppose,” I said, grinning up at her.

She closed the book that she was reading. “Now, Erin, darling… do you want to sing me a song?”

“A song?”

She nodded. “Yes. A song. Why don’t you sing me a song that you know? I always love to hear the sound of your voice.”

I blushed deeply. “Well…” That time, I was so shy and I only sing to myself.

“Come on,” she urged me. “I know that you have a nice voice. I hear it when you sing in your room.”

“Can we do it in another time?” I said, smiling widely at her.

She just chuckled. “Fine.” Then she studied me. “You know, if you really want to be a Broadway actress, then you shouldn’t be shy. You are a beautiful girl, Erin. You just don’t know that.”

I looked away. “I’m just afraid that maybe people would judge me.”

“Then let them judge,” she said firmly. “Maybe if they judge you, you’d be better. If they think you need to improve this, then you should.”

“I’m not really sure if I could go to Broadway. It’s going to be so hard.”

“I know, darling. Do you think it was easy for me, too?” Mom used to be a back-up dancer/singer in Broadway before she met Dad. When she met Dad, she decided to leave and then started the bookstore.

“That’s not hard to believe. You’re beautiful and talented. It was easy for you.”

“No, it wasn’t,” she said. “I have to master ballet and you know my body’s not that flexible.”

Before I could reply, Dad and Simon walked to us. Dad plopped himself next to Mom and planted a kiss on her forehead, his strong arm snaking around her waist. Simon sat next to me and then drank some water from the plastic bottle.

“How are my two beautiful girls?” Dad asked, his eyes shining brightly.

Dad’s really handsome and he absolutely looked like Simon. Maybe he’s an older version of him. He’s really sporty and he was a star in his school. He used to go to the same high school with Mom but didn’t notice her when his current girlfriend (that time) forced him to watch a Broadway musical one Friday night. Mom wasn’t the leading actress. She was only a back-up but Dad noticed her and he knew, from that moment on, he’d marry that girl.

I always loved this story. I’ve been hearing this since I was six.

“You’re sweating so much,” Mom said and laughed. She grabbed a towel from the bag and began to wipe the sweat away from Dad’s forehead.