The Violet Hour

Chapter 7 - Anywhere At All

Gale sat on the edge of my bed and yelled her responses through the distance between my bed and my closet.

“How come I have never heard you mention the guy before Live Michelle?” Gale used my middle name as a sign of affection, not direct authority like most parents. But then again, Gale wasn’t my parent. She hardly even acted like an authority figure at all for that matter, she was more like the older sister I never had. I suppose she had to fill my mother’s shoes with somebody…

“I kind of didn’t know he would turn out to be a big deal,” I tried to sound as nonchalant as I could while I held up random tops, and then stepped out for Gale’s vote.

“Didn’t know he was going to be a big deal?” Gale scoffed in disbelief while simultaneously pursing her lips ‘no’ to a light green v-neck t-shirt. “Did you see him?? Did you see those eyes??” she shouted through the door.

I laughed, “Yes Aunt Gale I’ve seen them. Would you like me to show you his birth certificate? You two weren’t even born in the same decade, I think you need to settle down,” I poked fun at her but also stepped out of my closet to make a heart with my hands directed at her, so she would know I was joking.

She flopped down stomach first onto the duvet of my bed, “You’re lucky age isn’t a tender subject for me.” She laughed, “Always was for your mom.”

I was thankful for the fact that I had returned to my closet so Gale couldn’t see the sudden sting of tears in my eyes. Gale had reached that safety zone where she could refer to my mother healthfully on a daily basis. I was on no such level, but I didn’t want to spoil it for Gale so I made it seem like I was. It took a lot of effort, but I think I held up the charade well enough.      

“Well even so,” I managed to choke out through my tears, “the label of ‘cougar’ is in a surprising downfall these days.” I collected myself and stuck my head out the door just in time to see one of the pillows from my bed being tossed at my head.

“Oh, shut up,” Gale teased. “At least I admit when I’m in looooove,” she cooed.

“I am not in love,” I stressed.

“Please,” Gale prodded, “then how come we’ve been in here for…” she stopped to check the time on her iPhone, “…an hour and a half trying to find you something to wear?”

“We have not!” I objected.

She held up the screen to prove me wrong. Screens didn’t lie. It was 5:49.

“Shit!” I yelled as I scrambled to find something to cover myself with, lucky that Gale wasn’t one to object to cursing.

“What time is Mr. Delicious supposed to be here?” Gale sat up and crossed her legs.

Ignoring the Mr. Delicious comment, I tried to answer her while sorting through clothes at the same time. “Six.”

“Oh my damn,” Gale sprung off the bed and ran to help me. I couldn’t help but smile at the phrase she had stolen from The Fresh Prince of Bellaire. 

We rummaged until we found something we both liked. Gale had attempted to get me into one of her dresses for her fabulous ‘work parties.’ The moment I saw the red lace and spaghetti straps I refused. Of course I opted for some casual jeans and a t-shirt, plain and simple, but Gale threatened to nail me to the wall and leave with Eli herself if I tried to leave her house on a date looking like that.

We met in the middle with black skinny jeans, a loose flowing gray top, a dark navy blue off the shoulder sweatshirt, with askew words across it, barely legible at that, and a pair of Gale’s black lace up kitten heels. I guess walking wasn’t that important right? At least I looked good.