The warm glow of the setting sun bathed Lila’s modest living room in a cozy light, casting long shadows across the mismatched furniture that hinted at garage sales and hand-me-downs. The walls, adorned with military photos and children’s artwork, vibrated with the excited chatter of Reva, Lila, Capri, and Charlie Grace, who were gathered for their regular Friday night get-together. Tonight, however, was far from ordinary; they were helping Lila’s daughter, Camille, get ready for her prom.
“Can you believe Camille is going to prom already?” Lila exclaimed, adjusting the creased sofa cushions, her voice a mixture of pride and disbelief. The house, though small and worn, was meticulously clean with everything in its place.
Lila handed a stuffed teddy bear to Lucan, who beamed as he lifted it from her hands and brought it to his face, kissing it.
“I swear, it feels like yesterday we were fussing with our own dresses, trying not to trip on our heels,” Reva replied, laughing as she helped lay out Camille’s accessories on the coffee table, which bore the marks of many a family game night.
“Well, that’s a skill you’ve definitely mastered as an adult,” remarked Capri. “Even Cinderella would be jealous of those little Prada numbers I saw on your feet the other day.”
Capri motioned to her worn hiking boots. “A real woman isn’t afraid to wear L.L. Bean,” she teased.
Lila sighed. “I nearly choked when I saw the price of Camille’s shoes. Half a paycheck for those little numbers. I decided to splurge for her prom. She’ll remember this night forever.” She sighed again. “I certainly remember ours.”
Charlie Grace, the photographer of the group, was in charge of the camera equipment, checking the settings to ensure the photos would capture the night perfectly. “Remember how we all crammed into my dad’s old station wagon? We were so squished with our dresses and hairdos, afraid to ruin them before we even arrived!” she reminisced, prompting laughter from everyone.
Capri, who had always had a flair for fashion, was carefully applying the finishing touches to Camille’s makeup. “You’re so lucky, Camille. We didn't have YouTube tutorials back then. I had to guess my way through eyeliner and ended up looking like a raccoon!”
Camille, sitting patiently, her eyes sparkling with excitement and a hint of nervousness, could barely keep still. “I can’t wait to show you guys those shoes Mom bought me to go with the dress Aunt Mo made. Mom, do you think they’ll like them?” she asked, turning towards Lila with a hopeful look.
Lila smiled warmly, her heart swelling with love for her daughter. “They’ll adore the gown and shoes just as much as I do. You will look beautiful, sweetheart.”
As Camille disappeared to put on her dress, the women found themselves drifting into their own memories of prom night, each sharing stories of teenage dreams and minor disasters.
“Remember the year we concocted that oatmeal scrub from the recipe in your mom’sHarper’s Bazaarmagazine?” Reva asked Capri, as she lifted Lucan and positioned him on her hip. “And gave ourselves a pre-prom facial?”
“The one that nearly scrubbed the skin off our faces? We barely had enough CoverGirl to cover our red skin.”
“Andy Denman didn’t mind,” Charlie Grace teased. “Seems to me he wouldn’t have cared if your skin was teal green.”
Capri sighed. “Yeah, dancing with him in the gymnasium decorated with twisted strips of colored crepe paper…that was the best.” She paused. “Or maybe it was the after-party out at the end of Dog Alley with the case of bottled Zima.”
Reva laughed. “Dog Alley. I forgot we used to call it that.”
“Because of old Earl Bennett’s yapping border collies,” Charlie Grace offered. “Those dogs would carry on barking every time you drove past his place.”
When Camille reentered the room, the conversation halted abruptly. She stood there, transformed, in a floor-length dress that seemed to capture the very essence of spring—a dress made of hot pink satin with silver princess-heel shoes. Her friends and her mother were momentarily speechless, caught in the magic of the moment.
Capri finally broke the silence, her voice thick with emotion. “Oh, Camille. You look absolutely stunning.”
The room filled with exclamations of agreement and admiration as they all gathered around Camille, adjusting a strand of hair here, smoothing the fabric of the dress there, each action a symbol of their collective support and love.
“You look beautiful,” Reva said. “You’re going to be the prettiest girl there.”
The doorbell rang and Lila answered, pulling the wooden door open. Randy Eisman stood there in a tux, holding a clear plastic container with a beautiful corsage inside.
Reva leaned to Capri. “Randy Eisman? I thought she dumped him for Cody Meacham?”
Capri chuckled. “Keep up—that was last week.”
“Alright, everyone, let’s take those pictures. We can't let this moment slip by,” Charlie Grace announced, herding the couple into position with an expert eye for detail. She followed with shots of Lila and her daughter, another with Lila and the prom couple, and finally with a group photograph of them all.
As the flash of the camera captured each scene, the images preserved were more than just snapshots of Camille’s prom preparation. The photos served as evidence of the bonds of friendship, the passage of time, and the shared joy of life’s milestones.
Before they knew it, it was time for Camille and her date to head out. As everyone bid them goodbye, Lila gave a final hug. She closed the door, turned, and broke into tears.
Reva rushed to her side. “Oh, honey! What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” Lila sobbed, brushing tears from her cheeks. “It’s just…well, I’m having one of those moments. So good it’s almost sad because I’ll never be this happy again.” A fresh stream of tears bloomed. “And Aaron is missing it. He’ll miss all these milestones—prom, wedding, first grandchild.”
