Chapter Twenty Four

"Would you bring me the sewing box in my cuboard please?" Mum asked from her sewing chair in the living room. I agreed and slipped into her closet. It was a small closet, long, but wide enough just for her outfits to hang without brushing the door. I brushed past proper buisness suits, colourless flower prints. I stubbed my toe on something, gave a little yelp. Bending down, I picked up the sewing box. It was a dark wood, with a quilted pattern on the front. As I turned to leave, my hand ran against a silky texture.


The dress was far too small to fit my mother now, it was a teenager's dress. A cascade of deep red silk flowed to the floor. The top was bunched together, two beaded straps hung down over the dress, earthy brown beads and small shimmering silver ones that would grace the wearer's shoulders.

"Alice!" I snapped out of my thoughts as my mother's voice pierced the quiet. I dashed down the steps, handed her the sewing box at the bottom.

"Mum?" She looked up from the repair she was doing to a pair of black pants. "Whos dress is that in your closet? The red one?"

She smiled ruefully. "It was my prom dress." I smiled back and rushed upstairs, thoughts of my mother, young, smiling, free of this burden, this pressure that holds her shoulders tense, the red silk flowing down her legs, a handsome young man at her side.


Before I know it the dress is gently resting in my arms, and I am carrying it carefully up to my room on the third floor. I pull off my jeans and t-shirt, undo a zip at the side of the gown. I hadn't brushed my hair for a few hours, it hung loose and slightly puffed around my shoulders. I stepped delicately into the dress, easing it around my body. I thought quietly of Jimmy, a teenager, wearing a tux, greeting his girl.


I straightened, maneuvered my arms into the beaded strap. My chest didn't quite fill out the front, but there was a gentle curve around my hips that the fabric subtly accented. The silk didn't shimmer, but it glowed where the light hit it. My body slowly roatatin, my thoughts wandered to Grey. I thoughtof his hair, his hands, his deep green eyes that looked straight into places I didn't know existed.


It came like the fire that flares as a match is lit, I love him, I love him, and he is, and I am, and I want us to be together, I want feel those stong arms around me. Those gentle lips pressed against mine, and my body is aching, aching with this thing I didn't know exsisted.


I hugged myself. I wistfully slipped off the dress, touched the fabric lightly, changed back into my clothes. I wondered if Jimmy would have ever felt this way about a girl. And I realized, I understood, that Jimmy may or may not have felt like this if he were here, yet even though he isn't, I feel this way about Grey, and I love him, and I love him, and I love him.