Hope Falls_Giving a Little by Frances Elliot

Author:Frances Elliot [Elliot, Frances]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kindle Worlds
Published: 2016-10-16T16:00:00+00:00

*

Emily went through her bathroom and banged loudly on the connecting door. “Abby, Mom says to get your ass out of bed and go down and help for a change,” she yelled.

A few minutes passed before the door opened and Abby came in, looking cross. “And I’m sure she put it just that way,” she said dryly.

“Well, you know Mom,” said Emily, turning on the shower. “I’ll be done in here in a minute and then I’ll get Emma dressed. Close the door, okay?”

Abby gave her another scowl before she left, saying, “At least you didn’t wake Aaron and the baby – you are always so bossy…” Her voice faded away.

After the shower, Emily went over to the closet and looked at the dress she’d brought with regret. She held it in front of her and looked in the mirror over the dresser. “What do you think?” she asked Emma.

The little girl tilted her head and gave the question serious thought. “I think it’s kinda basic,” she said.

Hearing that from a five-year-old made Emily laugh out loud. “That’s exactly right, sweetie. Does your mom say that sometimes?”

“She says it all the time. What does it mean?”

“Oh, sort of like ‘obvious’ – like you didn’t think about it much.”

Funny thing was, she had thought about it. Soft black knit, long-sleeved with a flared skirt and buttons up the front, it was an all-occasion dress she knew her mother would like. But it sure wasn’t sexy. Well, it would have to do, she thought, fastening the thin belt at her waist. She turned back to the closet. “Okey-doke, let’s see what Mommy brought for you to wear,” she said and found the little dress Abby had hung there.

“It’s itchy and hot and I won’t wear it,” said Emma, sounding adamant.

Emily looked it over. I agree with you, kid – I wouldn’t wear it either. It was velveteen with a lace collar, the kind of thing you forced a child into for the fifteen minutes it took to get a photograph and then removed. She put it back in the closet and said, “Let’s see what else you’ve got. I’ll take the heat for you when your mom squawks.”

“But I want to wear my party shoes, okay?”

“Okay, baby. Whatever you like.”

They made it downstairs about fifteen minutes later. Joe and her father were drinking beer and shouting at the television; Emma ran over, snuggled close to her grandfather on the sofa and stuck her legs out. “Aren’t my shoes pretty?” she asked.

Emily looked at Joe, wishing she could do the exact same thing – run over, cuddle up, ask for a compliment. He smiled playfully, and with the hand away from the others, crooked his finger at her. Pretending shock, Emily headed out to the kitchen.

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