Bruises in Miniature Form

Before you read this update I must say I'm glad to be writing this story, without the comments I've been getting I wouldn't have even considered going back to it and continued on my merry way. So thanks to everyone who reads, I'm happy you like it and hopefully this chapter isn't too bad

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“Repeat that?”
“I want you to wear a pink dress?” My mother smiled from where she sat.
“That wasn’t it”
“I want you to design the invitations?”
“Wasn’t it”
Sighing heavily she turned to look at me in the white gown covered with ugly bows and beads, “Well your my maid of honour and Max is the best man so you two will have to walk down together, I just wanted you to maybe if possible,”
“No about giving you away mom, I can’t do that”
“What, why?” She suddenly looked nervous, trying to walk in the tight fitting dress that flared out around her feet.
“Why isn’t grandpa going to be there?” I asked sharply, if she didn’t invite grandpa I swear I wouldn’t show up to this wedding no matter how much she meant to me.
Sighing she took a seat on the small little stool and rubbed her forehead, “Your grandfather isn’t happy with me right now Tea Cup, and-“
“If grandpa isn’t there I’m not going”
“Don’t be stubborn Teresa!” She suddenly snapped getting up to her feet, “You will be there at my wedding!”
Crossing my arms I leaned back on my heels and glanced around the store, “And if I’m not?”
“There is no ‘if I’m not’ you will be there, end of story!”
“Only if grandpa is”
Her eyes were cross as she rubbed continuously at her forehead, a habit she did when stressed, “He won’t come! I invited him over and over, he refuses!”
“Then drag him kicking and screaming!”
“I’m not having this discussion” She grumbled moving up to the dressing room to switch the dress.

As she did so I fumed silently and kicked at the random clothes hangers littering the floor.
Ever since I was little grandpa hadn’t been on very good terms with my mother, he loved my father and after the divorce he just didn’t really want anything to do with her.
I think he took the divorce the way I was supposed to but I thought by now he would have gotten over it or at least tried to make amends.
Sadly I had been mistaken and so my grandfather continued on his merry way of believing he had no daughter.
I knew my mother could have made the situation more bearable by talking it out with him but stubbornness ran in their veins.
Glancing up as my mother entered in another wedding gown I critiqued it with glowering eyes, the middle looked like it would burst open at any second.
What is it with women getting a size smaller than they really need?
Sighing I watched the woman scurry about her and gush about how wonderful it looked but I could tell the moment my mother caught eyes with me she knew it wasn’t the dress for her.
Another set of ten dresses she finally entered in a flowing white one with golden lace bordered over the low cut triangle.
The bodice had been kept plain as well as the skirt that managed to trail only slightly on the floor, looking beautiful on her figure and slimming out the areas she complained about daily.
A smile lit up my face when I saw just how gorgeous my mother looked wearing it; she could would knock Rick dead.
Leaning back slightly to get a better view I nodded my appreciation and gave her thumbs up.

“This is the one” My mother gushed looked down at herself and spinning before the mirror.
“Why do all women say ‘this is the dress’?” I questioned innocently.
Looking over her shoulder she smiled and waved me to her side, wrapping her arms around my shoulders so we could both look before the mirror.
I was so plain compared to my mother, so average that nothing stuck out on me.
She was a radiant woman and I couldn’t help but think I missed that radiance.

Turning my head to look at her I watched as her white teeth appeared between her red lips, “When you experience the happiest day of your life you want everything to go perfect, especially the dress”
“So marrying Rick is the happiest day of your life?” I almost laughed when she gave that look all mothers carried in their back pocket.
“Giving birth to you was my happiest day”
“That’s what they all say” I teased.
Chuckling to herself, my mother released me to sit down gently on the chair, careful not to rip or tare the dress: “Will you please walk me down the aisle?”
Staring at her I shook my head again, “I can’t do that mom, its grandpa’s job... please just call him”
Looking as if she was just struck by a vehicle she stood and left to the change room, I’d bet anything that she wouldn’t talk to me on the drive home.

Tapping my feet against the floor I ignored the looks of women who had probably heard our conversation and waited till my mother came out in her regular jeans and pink shirt.
She looked less radiant now, less happy and quite depressed after changing from the dress.
I couldn’t help but swallow the feeling of it being my fault, she had to make amends with grandpa, and it just wasn’t fair to cut him out over nothing.
On the ride home our topic came up over and over again, boiling until I could no longer take it and practically threw myself out of the slow moving car.
Mom had slammed on the breaks instantly, thankful no one was behind her as she screamed out the window for me to get back into the car.
This day was certainly a roller coaster and I just wanted to climb in bed, talk to my dad or Daryl and watch movies alone.
The house was just a street away I figured when I glanced at a few familiar signs, making sure I had a clearing in the street so I could run across and force my mother into another stop.
She was still trying to get me back in the car with whatever threats she could muster but the truth was nothing she said was going to get me into that car until I had calmed down enough.
Besides she wasn’t going to just leave me walking home.
The sound of an engine working harder spun my body around to watch my mother take off down the road. Without me.
Did my own mother just leave me to walk home alone?

Slamming the front door behind me the minute I got home was definitely a clue in to my bad mood.
So why didn’t the idiot Green figure it out?

“Aw look the poor baby is grumpy from her walk home” Max snidely commented from the stairs he sat upon.
“I’m having a bad day; can we pick this up later?”
Shrugging Max got up to his feet and allowed me to pass him, only to follow a second later and start his rambling: “So I was thinking, since your coming camping with us why don’t you invite Jennifer?”
Keeping my pace up until I was in my room I kicked my door shut in his face, only to have it swing open a second later.
“And while you’re at that do us all a favour and at school can you just go stick with your girlfriend and leave me and my friends alone?”
“I want another rule, you’re not allowed throwing comments like that around, especially at school!”
“You can’t just add rules ‘cause it hurts your feelings” he rolled his blue eyes with a smirk.
“And you’re not allowed in my room at any times!”
Crossing his arms over his chest he smiled smugly down at me and right off the bat I could predict what he was going to say, “Your room? Aren’t you mistaking this for mine?”
“Yeah, yeah, you own everything. Look I’m being serious”
“So am I” He grumbled back.
“Then accept my rules”
“No, I let you get away with rules in the beginning; you can’t add things on a whim to make yourself feel better. Hell if you can’t handle it then just lose already and go”
Stomping my foot onto the ground I stepped up into his personal space, “If you mysteriously get sick again, don’t think I’m holding your hand”