First Love

Chapter Three

  “You have got to be joking,” Giselle sounded disappointed. “I leave town and your Mom throws a party? Just my luck.”

  “Believe me, I would rather skip town than go for it. And I have this dress, goodness,” I leaned my forehead against the icy cold window pane.

  I was curled up on my study table, warm and happy in my quilt. The table was actually pretty comfortable for sitting. It gave me a good view of the gardens and I could stretch my legs if I wanted to.

  “But damn, imagine the guys you can meet,” I could almost imagine her, twirling a strand of her hair with that dreamy look in her eyes.

  I balanced the phone on my shoulder as I took a sip of hot chocolate.

  “Speaking of guys, David was asking for you,” I told her.

  “Crap,” She muttered. “How would you know?”

  “He asked to speak to me at the library. You should have told him you were going out of town.”

  “I told him it was impossible. I mean, I thought there was something, but there wasn’t.” She sounded troubled.

  “Well, at least you made it clear,” I could hear Anastasia, her younger sister calling for her. “I guess you need to go?”

  “Yeah. Tell me about the party when it’s done, alright?” She said.

  “Sure.”

  Christmas made everywhere look beautiful. The lights, the trees and the candles—it made me happy, like I was remembering some lost memory that I had forgotten years ago. In preparation for the party Marianne was to have, lights had been strung in all the trees in the gardens, and it made it look less forbidding and cold. It made my whole house glow prettily, a beacon for Santa Claus to arrive at midnight.

  “You should go out and take a walk,” Mary’s voice startled me from my thoughts.

  I turned around to see her standing by the door, her blond hair piled on top of her head in some messy bun. Mary had soft eyes and hands that were smooth and manicured, even though she scrubbed my toilet with a vehemence that scared me to death sometimes. She told me once that it was about loving yourself, to have enough love to make sure you looked good, anywhere you might be.

  “Nah, it’s…” I gestured to the gardens vaguely. “Cold.”

  “You know she won’t keep those lights on forever. Enjoy it while it lasts,” She told me, her nose scrunching up at the mention of Marianne.

  I glanced through the window again.

  “I suppose you’re right. It won’t be long until the guests start arriving,” I sighed, thinking about how I have to get into that dress I had chosen on whim.

  It wasn’t that bad, really, but somehow it looked a little like a candy wrapper. I should have chosen something darker but no. Candy wrapper.

  “The dress looks fine,” Mary crossed over to snag the dress off the table. “It’ll make you look like an angel,” She added.

  I felt disbelief bubbling up, threatening to spillover the creamy white surface of the table I was perched on.

  “I should get out,” I muttered, escaping the room.

  I know Mary meant well, but it stung sometimes, those compliments. They weren’t true.

  I didn’t manage to spend much time in the gardens before it was time to get back. Mary was already dolled up in a polka-dotted dress that was beige in colour and her hair was now loose around her shoulders as she pulled and combed at my mess of a hair.