Chapter Eight

 

 

I had to wipe my hands on my apron before I could open the door. I looked like the complete opposite of the girl wearing the designer dress from before. I was back to being Cinderella again – pre-fairy godmother.

Standing on the front door was our mother.

Instantly, I regretted opening the door. I should have just ignored it, pretended I was really into the stranger danger message Dad kept telling us. It would have been reasonable enough.

“What are you doing here?” I angry-whispered before stepping out onto the porch and holding the door closed behind me. I could not have Jemma coming out and seeing her here.

The woman had broken her promise to me.

For another time.

She had to take a step back now I was on the porch with her. “I thought I would pop by and say hello. I haven’t heard from you for a few days and I had hoped we’d be able to spend more time together.”

“I told you never to come here. Jemma is home. We had an agreement, remember? Or do you prefer to break all your promises?” I knew I was being mean but it was justified. She never kept her promises and I didn’t see how she would ever change to be the mother we needed in the future.

“I’m not trying to upset you, honey. I just wanted to see you.”

“I am not your honey. I am not your baby. I am not your anything. You need to do what you do best and leave.”

Her eyes went wide for a moment before delving into sadness. It made my heart pang with guilt for a few moments before my memories of her stamped it out. “I’m sorry I have upset you. I just wanted to see you.”

“You need to leave,” I said through gritted teeth. It was really rare that I got this angry. Now the bull was out of the gate, there was nothing I could do to stop it.

My mother nodded and took another step backwards. “Okay, I’m going. Please call me when you’re ready to meet again. I’m not leaving town, Melrose. Not again. I’m serious about being a part of your life again.”

The look on her face was enough to melt my heart but I remembered why I had made the conditions on our meetings. I didn’t want Jemma’s hopes getting up just to have them stomped to the ground by our mother.

She walked all the way to her car and I was just about to sigh with relief when the door behind me tugged open. Jemma poked her head out and saw everything.

“Jemma, get back inside,” I warned. Keeping her and our mother apart was in her best interests. There was no doubt I was doing the right thing.

“Mom?” she called out.

I wasn’t even sure how she could recognize her. Jemma was so little when she left that she had barely any memory of her. Perhaps it was the way we all looked so alike that it was impossible to deny she was our mother. Maybe it was impossible not to recognize your own mother.

Mom turned around hopefully and a huge smile spread across her face. “Jemma!”

Before I could stop her, Jemma was through the door and running for the woman. She jumped into her arms and they hugged like there was no tomorrow.

They were too far away for me to hear what they were saying but they both looked very happy. I needed to break them up but I was frozen in place by the look of sheer happiness on Jemma’s face. She had prayed for our mother to return nearly every day and here she was, standing in our yard.

That little girl’s heart was going to be smashed into a million pieces.

They spoke for a little while before Mom left. Jemma was practically walking on air for the rest of the evening. There was nothing I could do now to stop her getting hurt. Our mother had once more broken her promise and we would all suffer the consequences from here on out.

She didn’t show her face at our house for the rest of the week, thankfully. On Saturday I went shopping with Dallas. She needed a dress for a party her mother was putting on. The one thing Dallas loved above everything else, was a good party.

“I want something in red,” she said as we flicked through clothes at the mall. We were in one of the discount trendy stores, what they lacked in good fabric, they made up with in quantity and sequins. It was Dallas’s favorite store.

“Do you mean a dark red, or red red?” I asked. There were so many dresses that we needed to cut down the search criteria.

“Red red. The brighter the better.” Of course, I should have been expecting that. It was difficult to take the pageant out of the girl, she would enjoy being the center of attention for the rest of her life.

That was Dallas.

And that was why I loved her.

The store failed to have the right shade of red red so we ended up at the trusty old favorite – Walmart. My family never had much money and Dallas’ was the same. Her mother saved for months to pay for the dresses for her pageants. Every single cent of the prize money went back into the outfits.

We went for the formal area and looked through the racks of dresses. A lot of people may have made fun of Walmart, but they did offer a lot of dress for the money. I’d worn these dresses to every single school dance and disco since I was five years old.

Dallas flicked through the racks, looking for the dress of her dreams while I trailed behind. I stopped when I reached a blue dress. It was the same blue as Cole’s eyes, as blue as the water at the beach, and as sparkly as a sapphire.

I loved it.

My hand shook with excitement as I pulled it off the rack and held it against me. The whole thing shimmered when I moved. When I looked in the mirror, it looked like it was made for me.

“I am seriously in love with this dress,” I said, catching Dallas’s attention. She stopped to look at me, her hand on the latest red dress she’d found.

“It’s nice.”

“It’s more than nice,” I insisted. Was she not looking at the same dress as I was? It was perfection, outstanding, amazing. It wasn’t just nice.

Seriously.

Dallas shrugged. “You don’t need to buy dresses at Walmart anymore. Not when you have designers giving you dresses. I’m sure the Simone LePark dress is a lot better than that one.”

I should have agreed with her, it was silly looking at clothes that I didn’t need. Even after spending last summer working for Two Dimension on their tour, I didn’t have much money saved. I’d quit my job at Burger Nation so I wasn’t in a position to be buying things I didn’t need.

Dallas was right.

My cellphone beeped with a message just as I was placing the dress back on the rack.

 

Can’t wait to see you, beautiful.

 

Who cared about a dress when I had a boyfriend that sent me messages like that? He was all I needed, and he liked seeing me in the Simone LePark dress.

My life had seriously changed. In just two weeks’ time I was going to be walking the red carpet at the Major Music Awards with him. We would have the eyes of the world watching us.

But I still liked the Walmart dress.