Page 2 of Flowers and Moonlight
Whatever protest I was going to come up with dies on my lips.
He narrows his eyes at me as Samantha comes into my room, practically fucking skipping, and snatches my dress from where it is hanging on the closet door. I want to lunge at her and grab it, but the way my father’s eyes are burning into me doesn’t allow it.
She presses the dress against her body, “This will look fabulous on me. Maybe I’ll catch the eye of one of the Guidice brothers in this.” She looks away dreamily before batting her eyelashes up at my father. “Wouldn’t that be perfect?”
He kisses the top of her head and gives her an indulgent smile. “Of course, sweet pea.”
I want to roll my eyes, but I stop myself. It won’t help anything.
When my father’s eyes cut to me, they harden and narrow. I already know I’m not going to like whatever he says next. “You’ll stay home, Posy, since you don’t have anything to wear now. I won’t have you embarrassing me. I don’t even know why I said you could join us in the first place.”
“This isn’t fair,” I speak softly, but my words are firm.
The icy voice my father uses to address me is one I’ve heard before, “Don’t test me. You will know your place soon enough and will no longer be my problem.”
I blink at him, not recognizing the man in front of me. Samantha shoots me a smug look before sashaying out of the room. Dad leaves as well, but not before shooting me a look of warning. His words rattle around in my head. What the hell did he mean I won’t be his problem?
I stand in the same spot long enough to hear Clarissa and Samantha’s heels click down the hall and the front door slamming shut. Our house is beautiful and stately, but it’s the farthest thing from a home. It hasn’t been since my mom died. I didn’t just lose one parent when she passed, I lost them both. It eats at me while a sadness grows that I don’t know how to escape.
I force my feet to move and head into the backyard where the garden my mom planted years ago still thrives. It’s the one thing Dad didn’t destroy of my mom and I’ve never been able to figure out why he didn’t. It doesn’t matter because I’m grateful for it. I always feel closer to her when I’m outside and amongst the flowers.
Even though it’s not as beautiful as it is in the spring, the jasmine is blooming, and a gentle breeze brings me their scent. I sit on the stone bench and bury my face in my hands.
“I thought you were going to the ball.” I jerk my head up at the sound of Donovan’s voice. He’s our neighbor and fabulous. He’s looking at me with concern over the wrought iron separating the yards. Mom never wanted a privacy fence, she said it ruined the look of the garden. Donovan must see the tears in my eyes because anger flares across his face before he can stop it. “She,” he sneers the word, “did something, didn’t she?”
I sigh, my shoulders slumping with the truth of his words. I don’t even need to ask him for clarification. I know who he’s referring to. Donovan is not a fan of Samantha, and it shows.
“She said I stole the dress she really wanted when we were shopping.” I admit the truth, hating every word. Might as well tell it all. “She’s wearing my dress tonight and I’m not going.” I look up at the way the stars are just starting to twinkle in the night sky and sigh. “I should have known I wasn’t really going to be able to go; I was dreaming thinking it was going to happen.”
When I slide my eyes over to Donovan, he’s fuming. He’s a nice man in his mid-thirties and has been like a big brother and best friend to me since he moved next door years ago. I wish he could have met my mom, they would have loved each other.
Donovan and his life are fascinating. He’s so creative and makes his living selling handmade, one-of-a-kind masks. He’s been so busy lately with Mardi Gras, even though this time of year is not the only time people need masks, that I haven’t seen much of him. He also makes clothing for some of the drag queens in the city since his partner is a performer. I wish I could go and see a show, but Dad would never allow it.
“You’re going to the ball,” Donovan snaps and my eyes widen.
“I can’t,” I sound dejected as hell.
This feeling inside of me, of missing something big, is about more than just the ball. In the last few days, I’ve had a feeling which has kept growing; I need to go tonight, it’s important. It doesn’t matter now because I’m not going, but it’s still hard to push aside the instinct screaming at me to be at the ball or I’m going to be missing out.
“You can,” he insists and I roll my eyes because I can picture us going back and forth a few times.
“If they see me there then the punishment will be even worse.” I shake my head. “I don’t want to have to deal with it. It’s easier if I just stay home.”
“Posy,” Donovan’s voice is full of warning, “if you don’t come over here and let me dress you then we’re going to have some real problems. I have a dress that would look amazing on you and with a mask on, I don’t think they’ll know who you are.”
I perk up at the thought of wearing one of Donovan’s masks. The man has a waiting list that is wild considering what we’re talking about here. I have no doubt whatever dress he’s talking about will be divine as well.
“I don’t know.” I nibble my lip nervously. “It’s a big risk.”
“Live a little,” he insists while giving me a big smile.
My father’s warning of knowing my place soon enough fills my head and I shiver. I have a feeling if I don’t take this chance then I might not have the opportunity to in the future. What could it really hurt to go out for a little while? I’ll be back long before them, I’m sure.
I stand up, my knees knocking together and my body trembling. Defying my father isn’t something I do normally. It’s thrilling and terrifying. I don’t know what he would do if he found out.
I give Donovan a nod and head toward the gate so I can escape this prison and allow Donovan to dress me up however he wants. I know I’ll look great. As long as nervousness doesn’t threaten to take me under, I’ll be just fine.
Tonight I’m going to let Donovan dress me however he wants and go to the ball. If I don’t take advantage of the opportunity, when will I get another one? I’m not sure if it’s dread I’m feeling or excitement.