Timeless

Eliza Madeline Carroll

With steady fingers I finish putting on my eyeliner with practice ease and I nod approvingly at my reflection. My ginger hair was perfectly curled and rested on my shoulders like a cloud and my lips were stained ruby red. The few freckles that splattered across my cheeks and nose were carefully covered by foundation and the diamond earrings Granma gave me sat nestled in the lobes of my ears.

I was prime and proper and ready to be seen by the public.

Grabbing a pair of heart shaped sunglasses I found in a vintage boutique and my cellphone I padded out of my room in my polka dot string bikini and sandals that showcased my painted toenails. I made sure my back was straight and my hips swayed with a secret rhythm.

"Eliza darling, would you mind zipping me up?" My mother's voice rang from her room across the hall before I could even prepare myself to walk down the stairs and I rolled my eyes. She always needed something.

She's wearing a silver gown that belongs to a ball and her hair is piled in a neat bun. I know she's just trying it on since I'm her plus one, per usual, to the charity ball next weekend.

"How does it look?" She's practically gushing and you'll think this was her first big event when in fact we go to these type of things every month.

"Pretty." My reply is flat and I make no effort to hide the disinterest in my voice. I step back once the zipper goes up effortlessly and watch my mother admire herself in the full length mirror.

"Are you going to the pool?" she finally breaks the silence, meeting my eyes through the mirror.

"No. The barn."

"Lose the tone," she scowls at me, her brown eyes searching through mine. She claims I'm always hiding something and I don't bother to tell her that secrets are the best accessory.

I narrow my eyes before softening my expression, "may I go now? I'm wasting daylight."

My mother, Bethany Jacobs, renowned interior fashion designer and respected socialite, stuck her tongue out at me. "Not before you tell me how you really feel about the dress."

I sighed softly and trailed my eyes down my mother's slender body, eyeing the silver dress with the tight bodice and loose drapes. The sweetheart neckline showed a hint of cleavage and emphasized her tiny waist. It was perfect, for her.

"Very chic," I smile softly.

"Thank you, now unzip me."

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

I am coca cola in a glass bottle and a bright pink straw, a large floppy sun hat and glasses perched on my nose.

The sun feels heavenly on my skin as I lounge around the pool, Emeli Sandé's voice crowing from my phone's speakers. I felt fabulous and untouchable.

"Eliza, you're mother is leaving," Gemma calls out from the house and I sigh and get up to wish her farewell. She's leaving for Washington just for a day but she's dramatic and will insist on making sure I'll live without her.

"Ms. Jacobs, your driver is here," I heard Gemma tell my mother as I stepped inside, still warm from the sun. Gemma Cruz has worked for us for ten years now and my mom still absolutely refused to be informal with any of the staff.

I rounded the corner to find the Bethany Jacobs the rest of world knew, the business tycoon with her tailored woman suit and Jimmy Choos. Her blackberry was already glued to her ear.

I feel a bit nostalgia looking at her but I ignore the feeling.

"Dale, I'll call you right back," my mother snapped, dropping her phone in her Celine bag and holding her hand out for mine. I take it and accept her kisses on both cheek because there's a possibility that I'm wet, even though I'm obviously not, and that's a risk she isn't willing to take just for a hug, especially since she's wearing Armani.