Page 34 of Two Purple Gloves

LISA

“Ican’t believe you just brought down a photo of me completely naked for me to hand out to my parents!”

Rhiannon rolls her lips inward. “I’m sorry! I didn’t do it on purpose!”

“Do you know how embarrassing that could have been?” My heart is still hammering in my chest from the adrenaline.

“I’m sorry, Lis,” she implores. But she’s not. She’s laughing.

“Why would you think to bring a present down from my bedroom without checking with me first?” I’m not even that mad at Rhiannon, but the residual fear in my body is keeping the snippy attitude.

“Pregnancy brain?” she says with a wince.

We continue prying tape from our respective presents, trying not to ruin the paper. “This is no good,” Nel says. “You can’t tell what’s underneath the tissue paper.”

“We’re going to have to open them all up,” I say, hands on hips.

Nel pouts. “But I wrapped them all so beautifully.”

Yeah, but didn’t bother labelling them!I think it, but I don’t say it.

“You really did,” Rhiannon says sympathetically, rubbing Nel’s arm.

“Seriously?” I stare at them both, incredulous. “What do you suggest? I just hand them out like this and hope for the best?”

“We could make it a Christmas game,” Nel suggests with a serious face. So serious I’m unsure if she’s joking. Please let her be joking.

“Yeah.” Rhiannon nods, thoughtfully. “But is whoever gets the nip pic the winner or the loser?”

“The winner, obviously,” Nel says. “They’re incredible pictures. And very nice nipples.”

I snap my fingers between them, frustration reaching boiling point. “Will you two actually help me here?”

“Love to, but winding you up is a lot more fun,” Rhiannon says.

I let my head drop to my hands and resist the urge to scream.

“Would you relax?” Nel chuckles. “Let’s just get these opened up and we’ll re-wrap them.”

We each slide a tissue wrapped frame from the wrapping paper and pull the tissue paper away. As it turns out, we have to open all but one of the presents until we find the one not suitable for public opening.

“Holy shit, Lis,” Rhiannon says, holding up the frame.

I come to stand behind her and look over her shoulder to see the collage of pictures. They’re all of me, obviously, and they’re all…beautiful. A mixture of black and white and coloured photographs, about ten of them, perfectly slotted together. I’d been worried going to Nel’s studio in the city, thinking she’d ask me something mortifying like to seduce the camera, but she didn’t. She just chatted to me as she clicked away, occasionally manoeuvring me into a pose. She asked questions about me, about what I liked about my body, when I felt the most beautiful. She asked me about Harry and our favourite memories. And I can see the answers in the frame ahead of me.

“Ooooh! You’re wearing purple gloves!” Rhiannon points to the centre photo, which is me dressed as an angel, verysimilar to how Harry had first laid eyes on me, sat on a chair but leant forward. My elbows rest on my bare knees, my gloved hands holding my chin as I look up and to the side, a laugh on my mouth. It’s the tamest of all the photos. There’s one that’s close up, just my face and upper chest in shot, Nel’s chosen to display it in black and white.

She’d done my makeup and the dark smokiness of my eyes is shown in the grey shadows. Even without colour you can see the darker colour of my nipple poking between my fingers where I grip my breast for modesty, my lips are slightly parted and my eyes literally sparkling. I remember taking this one, laid out on the bed in Nel’s studio, her on a step ladder above me with the camera. She asked me if I remember the first time Harry and I were together. I didn’t answer with words, but I didn’t need to, the answer is there all over the photograph. It’s in the hood of my eyes, the way my teeth are just visible between my lips, as though they’re about to bite down on the bottom one.

“Oh, Nel,” I breathe, something burning at the back of my eyes like I might cry.

“It’s all you Lis,” she says gently.

All three of us are just staring as the photos, each one as beautiful as the next and the first tear falls when I realise that this is how Harry sees me. But Nel was right, this isn’t just for him, it’s for me too. I’m seeing what I thought I’d been losing. I don’t see the fine wrinkles fanning from the corners of my eyes that seem to haunt me from the mirror. The genuine smile on my lips and the light in my eyes for every question Nel asked me about things I love are the only things shining in the pictures.

In the full-length picture of me draped lazily against the exposed brick wall in nothing but a black lingerie set that Harry happens to love on me, I’m not staring at my slightly softer than before stomach. I’m seeing the bigger picture, the curves of my waist, the mole next to my belly-button Harry likes to kiss. My hair is curled and falls partially over my shoulder to my waist. My legs are long and shapely, accentuated by the highest heels I had in my closet. If I wantedto, I could zone in on the imperfections and signs of aging, but it’s hard to do when all the photos are so lovely.

“Fuck, you’re hot,” Rhi breathes, making Nel and I chuckle.