Tough Love
Tough Love
A couple of weeks later, my bedroom had been turned into a beauty parlor. Hannah and Natalie, Brendan’s nieces, had come to my house to help me prepare for my eighteenth birthday party Brendan was throwing. He would not tell me anything about it except he would pick me up at 5 that night. In the meantime, I showered and put on my robe so the girls could help me get ready.
Over the next hour, I sat praying the girls were making me look cute and not hideous (with a 13 and 11-year-old doing your make-up, one can never be sure). They did my hair, painted my nails, and even picked out my clothes.
I took a deep breath before walking down the long hallway to the bathroom and looking in the mirror. When I got there, I was pleasantly surprised; the girls had done a wonderful job with my makeover. My long blonde hair was pulled up at the sides, leaving the length to stretch down my back. My make-up was a bit brighter than I was used to, but I was not overdone by any means. If anything, they’d helped me look older. They had selected my pearl bracelet and necklace, a graduation gift from my parents, and gold and pearl earrings for me to wear. The dress they picked was the white one I’d graduated high school in just a few weeks prior. I looked very pretty.
Hannah and Nicole cleaned up my room and gathered their things while I slipped on my shoes. It seemed that the moment the clock hit five, Brendan was there to pick up the three of us. I could sense him watching me as we came out the front door and walked down the steps. He got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side.
“Wow, you look gorgeous,” he exclaimed before giving me a kiss.
“Thank you. I can’t take any of the credit, though. Your nieces were completely in charge.”
I heard them giggle appreciatively before getting in the back seat.
Brendan kissed my lips tenderly one more time before having me sit down so he could shut the door.
When he got in, I said, “You look quite handsome yourself, by the way.”
And he did, too. He’d had a fresh haircut and shave, leaving the thinnest of mustaches above his mouth. He was wearing his favorite silk shirt with a purple and blue silk vest over it. I could tell he was proud of himself because his deep brown eyes were sparkling with anticipation for the night’s events. I had a feeling it was going to be my best birthday yet.
Marcie Bridges has always wanted to be a writer, from the time she started keeping a diary in seventh grade. Since then, she has earned a master’s degree in education from Cumberland University while teaching some wonderful children with special needs in Indiana, Tennessee and Kentucky.
While she will always bleed scarlet and gray (GO BUCKS!), she now lives south of Cincinnati with her husband and daughter. When Marcie isn’t writing, she can be found reading, watching her favorite TV shows, listening to music, or browsing her favorite websites.
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