Remember this Face, Baby.

A FEW DAYS LATER

“Mama, wake up!” Small impatient hands pressed themselves into the middle of my back, and then carelessly, a small body fell onto my own body, landing with a loud oomph. I heard my little intruder exhale a frustrated sigh and her impatient hands were shaking me again, urging me to wake up. I felt her little fingers probing my eyelids, trying desperately to open them and once that failed, she groaned and slumped back onto my body. She pressed her face into my neck and I heard a muffled mama, before she stayed still on my body, defeated.

I flipped onto my back, while I wrapped my arms around my daughter’s small body and pulled her on top of my own body, laughing when she shrieked. I kissed her cheek and held onto her sides as she adjusted her body so she was sitting with her knees on either side of my torso. She cupped my face in between her small hands and leaned down, pressing her small forehead against mine. “You scared me, mama,” she mumbled, and I chuckled, pecking her nose.

“I’m sorry, baby. Do you forgive me?” I asked, gently and she smiled, nodding her head, which bumped against my forehead.

“Yes!” She giggled and leaned back up, brushing her curls away from her face. I had been falling in love with my daughter since the first day I saw her in the delivery room. She was the one thing I couldn’t live a day without because she gave me reason to live—even when I lived in that hell hole of a town, she was the reason I fought through it. I loved her more than I valued my own life and it scared me how fearful I was of losing her. She was my everything.

I leaned up into a sitting position and cupped Alexis’ face, kissing her forehead. “I love you, baby,” I whispered and she smiled, wrapping her arms around my neck. I hugged her against my body, wishing we could stay like this forever.

“I love you, too, Mama!” She said, happily and suddenly, she pulled away from me and jumped out of my lap. “Daddy told me to come wake you up! He made breakfast and he wants you to come eat!” She kissed my cheek and bounded off the bed, quickly disappearing out of the room. I chuckled, shaking my head as I tossed the sheets off of my body and moved to the other side of the bed. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and placed my feet on the carpeted floor, yawning loudly. Reluctantly, I got up from my bed and headed into the bathroom to begin today’s activities.

◊

I stepped out of the bathroom when I heard a soft knock come from my bedroom door, as I was drying my wet hair with a towel. I called for them to come in and smiled when I saw Margaret step into the room. “Good afternoon,” Margaret greeted, kindly and closed the door behind her.

“Good afternoon, Margaret! Is everyone downstairs?” I asked, happily, returning to drying my hair in front of the bathroom mirror.

“Yes, they are in the middle of eating their lunch the Young Sir prepared,” Margaret called from my bedroom. I peeked my head inside the room and arched an eyebrow, making Margaret laugh. She simply shrugged her shoulders and went back to making my bed.

“Weird,” I mumbled to myself. I placed the towel back on the towel rack on the wall to dry and walked out of the bathroom just as Margaret finished.

“The Young Sir said the hairstylist would be here by three and the makeup artist would be here closer to five o’clock so it’s a good thing you already showered, love,” Margaret stated, and I scrunched my eyebrows together, wondering what exactly she was talking about. What hair stylist and makeup artist? Margaret glanced at me when she didn’t hear a response from me, seeing my confused expression and she added, hesitantly, “...for the charity ball tonight at eight?”

Without any warning, I squealed and jumped up into the air, nearly making Margaret faint from fright. She gasped, loudly and her hand immediately flew up to clutch a handful of her white blouse, with eyes wide as a saucer. I giggled, nervously and apologized to Margaret, feeling a surge of adrenaline rushing throughout my entire body.

Ever since I had gotten my dress, I had been counting down the days, hours and minutes until Saturday came around. Every morning after I would wake up, I would rush out of bed and run into my closet just to run my hands over my dress. I would plop down on a spot on the floor and literally stare at the dress, daydreaming about how I would look in the dress and how incredible the charity ball was going to be. I would sit on the floor, absentmindedly looking at the dress until, either Alexis or Margaret, would come knocking at my door.

“Oh, child! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Margaret grumbled, and shook her head in disapproval, walking towards the bedroom door. She opened it and waited until I stepped out of the room to close it.

“I’m really sorry, Margaret. I’m just really excited for tonight. These past few days have gone by slower than a snail! I just want to wear my new dress,” I said, excitedly. Margaret chuckled, placing an understanding hand on my shoulder as we walked down the stairs.

“I know how excited you are, love. You’re going to look absolutely beautiful,” she stated, and I felt my heart swell. As I looked into her eyes, I swear I almost saw my mother and I felt my throat tighten. I stopped as we reached the landing and turned to Margaret, wrapping my arms around her waist suddenly. The action must have surprised her because for the first few seconds of the hug, she just stood there. Then, after a few seconds, she was wrapping her arms around me and a soft chuckle left her lips. She kissed my temple and waited until I pulled away with a motherly smile on her face.

“Thank you, Margaret,” I whispered, and she nodded, rubbing my back soothingly.

“You’re welcome, love. Now, let’s go eat.” I smiled up at her and I felt her sling a comforting arm across my shoulders, pulling me into her warm side. I placed my head on her shoulder, pretending for that moment, my mother was holding me.

◊

The hairstylist arrived promptly at three o’clock like Margaret had stated earlier. She was a petite girl, with a slim figure and long, dark brown hair. I couldn’t help but think how beautiful she was. Her eyes were a light silver that sparkled when the light hit her just right and her olive skin was perfectly clear—not one blemish in sight. She looked like she had just stepped off a runway or from the cover of Cosmopolitan.

I had introduced myself and Margaret to her, and she had smiled at both of us, making sure to display her pearly whites that sadly, put my teeth to shame. I told her she would be doing my hair in my room and she followed Margaret and myself up to my room, where she began getting ready. She spread her utensils out on my vanity and placed her waist apron around her slim hips, placing a few utensils inside the open pockets. She turned to me and smiled, placing her hands on her hips as she looked between Margaret and me.

“All right, Karissa, we can start whenever you are ready,” the hairstylist said, and I could hear a slight French accent in her voice.

I nodded, eagerly and stepped towards her. “I’m ready,” I said, and she smiled, pulling the vanity chair out for me. I quickly took a seat and she draped a black cape over my body, closing it at the back of my neck. I glanced at myself through the mirror and I sighed, quietly, feeling extremely anxious. I couldn’t believe that in just a few short hours, I would be attending my first ball. I had always fantasized about going to grand balls, like they did in Disney movies, wearing a big evening gown and socializing with people of great importance. Now, it was happening and I didn’t know how I was going to handle it. Dear God…help me, I thought, pathetically.

◊

Unfortunately, the makeup artist had been running late from an earlier appointment going a little longer than she had expected. By the time the makeup artist arrived at the mansion, it was a little past six. The moment she arrived, she began apologizing and explaining how the event she had been at earlier, had had more people than she had been informed of and she had to oblige in order to get paid.

I was seated in front of my vanity for the second time today, half-watching myself through the mirror and half-watching the artist do her magic on me. I couldn’t shrug off the anxious feeling I had in the pit of my stomach and all I could do to try to forget about it was count from a hundred backwards. Eventually, I’d lose track and my mind would drift back to my dress waiting for me in my closest.

“I think we’re about finished!” The makeup artist, whose name I think was Debbie, stated, holding one of her many brushes in her hand. She smiled down at me and stepped aside, letting me get a full view from my vanity mirror.

I looked at myself in awe and my mouth dropped open. I looked completely different and I hardly looked like myself. I wasn’t able to see the couple of small pimples that had decided to pop up this morning on my forehead, or the dark circles around my eyes. It was like they had completely vanished. I smiled at myself through the mirror and thought, I actually look pretty.

I glanced up at the artist and quickly, gushed, “I absolutely love it! You did such an amazing job!” She smiled, and I watched her cheeks redden.

“I’m happy you like it! You look beautiful!” She said, kindly. “Well, I’m going to pack up so you can finish getting ready for tonight! It was nice meeting you and I hope you have a great time tonight!” I quickly thanked her and let her begin packing all her equipment.

I walked her downstairs and gave her a small hug, before she went on her way, saying her farewells. I rushed back into my room and literally slammed the door behind me. I ran towards my closet and stepped inside, rushing towards my beautiful dress. I grabbed it from the hanger and looked down at it, whispering, “Finally.”

I could hardly wait.