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They had her twirl for them and she marveled as the skirt flared out. They discussed the type of shoes that would be best and then they left the fitting room and she was alone once more.
She didn’t want to take the dress off, eager for the next time she could wear it again. Eventually she removed it and this time when she saw herself, she didn’t critique her body, she didn’t payattention to the scars or bones. She had always felt weak with Marcus, annoyed at her body for failing her, for not being strong enough to fight back or recovering quick enough after abuse but now she saw it for what it was. Hers. It told a story of her life; her growth. The body that worked hard to keep her moving, keep her strong and kept her living,surviving.
Once she was dressed again, she made her way to the register, passing a table full of accessories that included suspenders. She looked over the different designs before spotting a pair with constellations on them. She couldn’t resist the purchase and growled, “Not a word,” at the tittering trio with their raised eyebrows.
They stopped for lunch before heading back for shoes and purses and more clothes before they finally headed home, chatting excitedly about their purchases.
She caught Justine staring at her. “What?”
“Nothing. I was just thinking that sometimes retail therapy can be as effective as normal therapy.”
Rebelle didn’t respond, just considered her words. She did feel like something had shifted inside her today. Spending time with the women, getting her own clothes, spending money she had earned and flexing her independence feltgood.
She watched the sun set on the drive back, listening to Christy and Taylor ribbing each other and smiling here and there at the insults that were clearly full of love.
“Do you think we can get ready together next week?” Rebelle asked tentatively when Justine pulled up outside the shelter.
“Oh my God, yes!”
“It’ll be like we’re going to prom!”
“We can do hair and make-up, it’ll be so fun!”
“Thank you for today,” Rebelle said to them and then got out with all her purchases before she got teary-eyed again. Theyagreed to head to Justine’s before the ball to get ready and Justine agreed to look after her dress as she could steam it.
Waving goodbye, Rebelle headed home, stopping when she noticed Will on the deck of the trailer, peering through a telescope.
*
“Mom, I know!” Will’s exasperated sigh bounced off the walls of the shelter. Her screeched response was so loud that he pulled his phone away from his ear and a couple of the dogs began howling.
“This is unacceptable! What am I supposed to tell GQ? And Time Magazine, Will. Time freaking Magazine!”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tell them whatever you like, just make them go away.”
“You can’t hide forever,” she said, her voice softer and part of him wanted to give in and give her what she wanted but he knew better.
“Stop trying to guilt me.”
“What are you even doing there? What is so damn important that you’ve put your entire career and life, and the lives of so many others, on hold? People are running in circles trying to clean up and mitigate the impact of your absence and what the hell are you even doing it for?”
Will didn’t want to tell her because he wanted to protect what he was doing here, it was private, just for him. But his mom knew how much he loved animals and he hoped she would be pleased he found something he was passionate about.
His enthusiasm spilled out. “It’s an animal shelter. I’m working with the owner to help it grow and it’s turned into a passion project.”
His mother made an excited noise. “This is perfect for your brand, I’m so proud of you! What great publicity this will be. I’llstart calling around our talk show host friends to book a slot for you to talk about it and oh! GQ are going to just lap this up!”
She continued on in her excitement as Will’s heart plummeted to his feet. Part of him was surprised that she was so cold blooded in her way of thinking and part of him wasn’t surprised at all.
He missed the woman who sat on the floor with him playing Uno, eating SpaghettiOs from the can and watching cartoons. The woman who was too young for a child but managed anyway. The woman whose imagination turned the couch cushions into a fort and the floor to lava and created their own island to live on. The woman who had him giggling hysterically at the way she told stories, all her facial expressions, accents and voices she used. The woman who inspired him with her positive attitude and optimistic outlook on life despite the trainwreck theirs was.
“What happened to you?”
There was deathly silence on the other end of the phone but Will plowed on. “I miss her, you know. My friend, when it was just the two of us. Sometimes I don’t even recognize you anymore.”
A dismissive sniff. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes you do! Where’s the woman who stole Christmas lights from the front yards of the rich neighborhoods just so we would have some inside Lucille? You remember Lucille, don’t you?” he asked, referencing the trailer home which he now looked back on with fondness. Maybe spending so much time around Rebelle’s and seeing how she appreciated it had changed his opinion.
