Reluctant Diva 23
Inspired by Lipstick Discipline
Chapter 23 – The watershed
To my surprise, instead of getting the usual third degree from Mom, all I had to face were a few cursory questions that were easy to skate over or supply a partial answer to. She seemed genuinely concerned that I was okay, but evidently her head was full of yesterday’s celebration. After telling me several times how well I had done and how proud I had made her, she went on to enthuse over my dancing. Apparently much of the event had been captured by the Bennetts’ cine camera and we had been invited to visit there one evening for the first viewing. In the meantime my parent showed me some stills she had taken with her instant camera, which I couldn’t wait to see. I leafed through them eagerly.

“I was pleased you remembered something from your dance lessons in 7th grade” she remarked, as I examined a photo of my waltz with Dad. “All that effort and expense weren’t a total waste. Your posture is really quite good in that snap.”

The snapshot vividly recalled to my mind the hush which had descended on the room when it was announced. “Señoras y señores, por favor. Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please! And now, for the first waltz! The proud father!”

Dad had complied without hesitation and walked out to the centre of the floor. I wasn’t surprised at his willingness, because though it was something of a family joke, he fancied himself as a great dancer, often to our embarrassment. Standing there alone, he had looked around expectantly to see who would be his partner. He might have preferred to be with Marnie while steeling himself to dancing with Mom as second best, but when I had been led out to the middle instead and my hand had been placed in his, my father’s mingled surprise and reluctance had been only too obvious.

By then it had been too late for him to refuse. The band had struck up the first notes and we’d started automatically. Dad hadn’t been able to look me in the face but that didn’t matter because holding his head away from his partner had given him the natural posture for a waltz, or so I’d recalled being taught by our dance tutor. I knew that the woman’s ideal pose was similarly to look away from the man while arching herself back as far as she could, so I’d done my best to adopt it. How successful this had been is a matter for conjecture. One immediate result had been that my prominent bosom had come dangerously close to bursting out of my dress for the duration of the entire dance. With that possibility imminent I guessed that no-one would have had eyes for my footwork or that of my dance partner.

In the photo my dad had been caught in a flamboyant pose. The ‘female’ he was holding could only have been me, although my face wasn’t too distinguishable. My posture appeared to defy gravity and it seemed a miracle that my bust had remained decently covered.
In hindsight the best probably that can be said is that the dance itself had been mercifully short. After we’d promenaded twice around the floor the music had come to a close and it had been over. Once we’d separated I’d given a twirl amid resounding applause and returned to my seat.

Despite the fixed smile on her face, the look in my stepmother’s eyes as I’d passed her would have curdled milk. I’d been close enough to hear her hiss to my father “We’re leaving!” as he had rejoined her. Out of the corner of my eye I’d also seen the look of triumph on my mother’s face but there hadn’t been time for me to dwell on that. There had been much more dancing ahead of me.

“I will allow that your father knows his way around a dance floor… though I don’t think anyone was looking at him” my other parent remarked drily. “I will remember the look on the face of that trollop he brought with him for a good long time. Why she thought she ought to come, I can’t imagine!” her face clouded over at this thought, but to my relief she shook off the unwelcome recollection with an effort.

“I really owe you, my love!” She leaned forward and pressed my knee gratefully. “I can’t remember feeling this good in ages. I’ve had to wait years to get one over on her, but yesterday really was payback time!”

Well, at least one of my parents was happy. I could almost see the undercurrent of excitement bubbling inside her as she spoke again. “While you were away last week, sweetie, I made a couple of changes. Come and see if you approve!” She seemed excited like a little girl!

This was new. Imagine my approval being sought about… well, about anything! Mom led the way upstairs and into her room. It had been completely made over. The walls were prettily decorated with contrasting curtains and the wainscot and door were newly painted. The colour scheme was white and lilac. The furniture was also new, in white with delicate mouldings, as was the bed. The head of the latter was hung with lacy drapes and prominent amongst the pillows was the one from my party, embroidered with my name.

I was getting the impression that my mother’s enthusiasm for commemorating yesterday’s celebration was without limits, for there in pride of place, my quinceañera dress was tastefully displayed in one corner of the room.

I turned to my mother in delight. “Oh Mom! This is wonderful! You should have treated yourself like this long before now. It’s all so pretty, I can see that you’re going to love this room.”

“You are perfectly right” she smiled back. There was a mischievous glint in her eye which should have warned me she had something up her sleeve. “I have treated myself in doing all this, and I am going to just adore… your new room!” She pointed to the mirror over the top of which the name ‘Jennifer’ was picked out in an ornate script.

I didn’t understand the meaning of her words or her gesture and looked to be enlightened. Was she hinting that she had had something similar done to my room as well?

“Happy Birthday! This is your bedroom now, sweetie. I’m so pleased you like it.”

As the penny dropped, I was stunned into silence. My room! While I tried to recover, she pointed out all the thoughtful little details that had been applied and showed me around the adjoining bathroom, which was now my bathroom. This must all have cost her dearly. Finally she led the way to what was now my former room. That had also been newly decorated though in a more traditional style. More expense! Her old furniture just fitted within the smaller dimensions. I couldn’t understand why she had exchanged rooms with me.

“Since our home now has a beautiful young woman, my daughter, belonging to it” she explained, “it’s only fitting that she should take precedence. She will have the best there is, while ever she lives here. I shall be quite happy in this space.”

Mom’s emotions bubbled over at this point. She clasped me to her in a hug and then, stifling what might have been a sob, she left me to return downstairs. Back in my new room I sat on the bed and tried to take in what this all meant. My new bedroom was by far the best room in the house and I couldn’t get over my pleasure and surprise at my mother’s generosity in making it over to me. I would never have expected anything like this and it made me re-evaluate the basis of our relationship. It seemed that in my mom’s eyes, Jennifer was quite special, after all!

There had been something odd about her words. What had they been? “The best there is, while ever she lives here.” That was a strange way to express herself. Where else would I live?

As I sat there, I tried to take stock of my life mentally. The end of my first high school year was only weeks away and Jennifer was pretty much accepted there. I had a circle of friends which was admittedly quite small but that was enough for me. I didn’t need to be universally popular, just safe! More to the point there were only a few people I needed to stay wary of at school. Lee and Abe and their cronies headed up that category, but mostly they were in a different part of the school. Karen and her buddies weren’t far behind. So far I’d been able to avoid them as much as I could.

There were other positives. Though enjoying Madeleine’s patronage had sometimes been uncomfortable, it had opened my eyes to a world of sophistication I hadn't encountered before. As a ‘girl’, my sight, touch and smell were continually assaulted with new and exquisite sensations. To be honest I couldn’t get enough of them. Amazingly I had an attentive boyfriend who was an object of envy to all my school friends. Despite our enforced separation over recent weeks he had remembered to send me a birthday gift; also flowers and a card. It felt good to be so admired.
Incredibly enough, I was content with the way I looked. Okay… more than content. A glance in the mirror was no longer something to be dreaded and though I couldn’t help be constantly aware of the curviness of my body, I’d begun to revel in it. My inclination these days was to lift my head and pull my shoulders back, instead of trying to hide. I actually liked being looked at!

Best of all, though, was the way my relationship with Mom had changed. Not only was I no longer constantly yelled at or even scolded very often, but we were close a lot of the time. That was special and meant more to me than anything. There weren’t too many clouds on the horizon. With the optimism of my years I reflected, what could possibly go wrong?