"Birdie, what kind of point are you trying to make by looking like a rat at the dance?" Ophelia pouted.
"I won't look like a rat," Birdie argued from her perch on the bed, where she was still only clothed in her slip and a large blanket as she read a book. "Rats don't have to curl their hair."
Ophelia, who had been getting ready for the past hour, decided to change her outfit once again.
"I want to have the biggest skirt in the whole school," she said. "Can I borrow your petticoat to wear with mine?"
Birdie lifted an eyebrow. "You'll look like a balloon."
"As if you'd know what's in fashion."
"Balloons are in fashion?"
Ophelia rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Come here, let's do something with that nest on your head."
Reluctantly, Birdie crawled out of her cozy hovel, bringing her book with her, and sat at the vanity.
Ophelia picked and fretted over Birdie's hair and Birdie let her do whatever she wanted. She knew was going to end up looking like a clown regardless.
The last time Birdie had attended a dance had been the annual community sock hop. It had not gone as expected. She'd been fired from the Post and Wyatt had been beaten up by his brother.
Tonight, though, she'd decided that she wouldn't be so opposed to dancing like she usually was. Ever since Gwydyr, there was a part of herself that scared her and she thought that maybe if she got out of her comfort zone a little, it would somehow chase that itching darkness away.
"Listen to this," Birdie said, holding the Dickens book up to her face. "I was better after I had cried, than before--more sorry, more aware of my own ingratitude, more gentle."
"Beautiful," Ophelia murmured distractedly. "Now tilt your head this way, I don't want to burn you with the curling iron."
"Ugh, kids these days," Birdie complained.
A knock came at the door before it was opened by Rose.
"Any sign of Marigold?" she asked, tucking a gray flyaway behind her ear.
The girls shook their heads.
Rose lifted her eyebrows and sighed. "Alright, well I have your dinner ready for you when you two are dressed."
"But they have food at the dance," Ophelia said.
Rose scoffed. "All of that Jell-O and crackers? Sakes alive, I don't think you can get full on all of that, it's filled with all sorts of..." her voice trailed off as she went downstairs.
Birdie and Ophelia exchanged a glance in the mirror. They both knew where Marigold was, of course.
"She used to love dances," Ophelia said sadly as she brushed out Birdie's hair.
"She used to love a lot of things."
Ophelia gently swept half of Birdie's hair up into a subtle twist. "Do you think it was a mistake to summon the forest?"
Birdie thought about it for a moment, remembering the headaches she kept having and the visions she saw. "No," she said finally. "We didn't have a choice. We had to save the ghosts and Wyatt. Now, is it a mistake to keep going into it? That, I don't know."
Hurried footsteps bounded up the stairs before Marigold burst through the door. She made sure to close it before whirling on them.
"You'll never guess what I found," she said breathlessly. "We have to go to Gwydyr right now--wait, why are you doing Birdie's..." Realization dawned on her.
"Gosh," she whispered. "I forgot all about the dance!"
"Someone must be excited." Birdie whistled.
Marigold ran a panicked hand through her hair. "I'm an absolute mess--I can't go into that school like this."
"I already picked your outfit," Ophelia said in a motherly tone, "it's on the chair by the desk."
Marigold took off her overalls while Ophelia continued doing Birdie's hair.
"I found something in Gwydyr. Huge. But I want you all to see it for yourselves."
"Dangerous?" Ophelia asked hesitantly.
"I don't think so," Marigold replied, pulling on a light pink circle skirt and tucking a frilly white blouse into it.
It didn't take long for Marigold to transform herself into a model, much to the envy of her sisters.
With a quick brush of her hair and a powder of her nose, she was ready, while Ophelia was still fiddling with Birdie's hair.
Eventually, Ophelia said, "That's about all I can do with it."
Birdie surveyed herself in the mirror, expecting to be disappointed by all the fluff and curls.
"Don't worry," Ophelia sniffed, "I kept a little gutter rat intact, just how you like it."
Birdie's hair was rolled in the front to be tied in the back with a deep maroon ribbon that matched her dress. A few curls framed her face, tickling her cheeks.
"Thanks, Opie," she said, grabbing her dress and flinging it over her head.
"No!" Ophelia screeched. "Don't mess up your hair! Gah--Bernadette Penny!"
"It's fine," Birdie assured her.
"Where are my shoes?" Marigold wondered out loud.
Ophelia replied, "Who cares? It's not like we wear them anyway."
"Well then, where are my new socks? The ones with the lace?"
The next ten minutes were filled with searches for necklaces, arguments over who really owned what, and frantic last-minute touch-ups.
Soon, they were ready.
Ophelia wore a lavender skirt (with only one white petticoat underneath) and a black long sleeve shirt that had once been part of a dance leotard.
Marigold wore her pink and white getup with her hair tied back in a ponytail, her bangs perfectly coiffed over her forehead to look like Audrey Hepburn.
Birdie was the only one who refused to look like a high schooler going to a sock hop, wearing instead a sophisticated A-line dress.. The maroon material had tapered sleeves that went just past her elbows and a heart-shaped neckline. The wide waistband was fitted until it flared out at the skirt. She'd worn it to a funeral once, she recalled, because she didn't have anything black at the time.
They went downstairs and ate a rushed dinner, not because they were hungry but because Rose didn't take no for an answer.
Marigold fired up the Ford truck with all three girls squished in the front seat and soon the smell of Lemon Verbena filled the cab.
She took in a long breath and exhaled.
"We're late," Ophelia reminded her, wondering why Marigold hadn't taken off the moment the truck started.
"Before we go, I wanted to say I'm sorry," Marigold said quietly. "I didn't mean to forget about the dance."
She readjusted her grip on the steering wheel, staring at the barn. "I...I know I've been going to Gwydyr a lot, it's just, there's so much there. You understand, don't you?"
"We miss you, Marigold," Ophelia said. "We found Gwydyr together, so we should explore it together. You just have to give us time to--"
"But what if there isn't time?" Marigold interrupted. She sucked in a hitching breath that brought deafening quiet to the truck.
"I can't help but feel like there are...things...going on there that we need to figure out," she whispered.
"Does this have to do with what you saw today?" Birdie asked.
Marigold nodded. "Maybe. I don't know. But either way, I don't want to do it without you two. I thought I did, at first, to have my own adventure, but I don't."
"Oh, honey," Ophelia curled up beside her affectionately.
Birdie, too, was moved and reached across Ophelia to take Marigold's hand. "Together it is, then. But I believe we have a dance to go to first."
~~~~~~~~~~~
Heyyyy y'all! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!
~Predictions for the sock hop?
~Who's outfit do you like best?
~General thoughts?
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