At one point, every little girl's dream was to look like a goddess in a gown.
At age 9, Bianca Desmond walked into the auditorium wearing a purple frilly dress and a plastic tiara on her head. She wore each accessory with pride, and even made sure to show it off every five seconds.
It was picture day, and instead of tiaras and bracelets, all I was wearing was a red shirt and my favorite overalls. And I was very proud of my outfit as well.
"Bea, why didn't you wear a dress like me?" I remember Bianca asking, as we held each other's hand and waited in line. "You look like a farmer."
"Farmers are cool, too," was my reply. "Alice said they work hard every day."
Anyway, every little girl's dream was to look like a goddess in a gown.
Living with the Hamilton's, I get to live that dream at least five times a year.
I stare at myself in the mirror, gazing at the 24th dress I've put on this afternoon. "It's lovely."
I catch sight of my tailor rolling his eyes once again. "Oh darling, I said I want honesty. You've told me the same thing with all the dresses."
We've been here in my room for the past 4 hours, just constantly trying dress after dress.
I let out a chuckle and turn around. "But it's the truth, they're all so beautiful."
"Yes, I know that, darling. I made them. But which one do you think is the most beautiful?"
I think for a moment, before slowly turning back around to see my reflection again. The dress is a simple burgundy color that reaches all the way to the floor. The floral sleeves are honestly my favorite part, though.
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"This one," I reply, before facing him again. "This one is the most beautiful."
He lets out a tired sigh. "Finally. Okay I'll go get Alice. Just wait right here, darling."
He walks out the room, leaving me alone with my reflection. I continue to admire the flow of dress as I give it a few turns.
"Bea-"
I stop and turn around. "Yes?"
Max leans against the doorway, wearing a grey tux and a crimson tie. His eyes are trained on my dress. "Wow," I hear him mumble.
Not a usual reaction from him.
"Thanks," I say, as I rub my arm.
Max seems to break from his daze, as his eyes quickly travel back up to my face. "Oh. Ah- you're welcome," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "Have you seen my mom?"
