Diana Palmer - Christmas Wishes Part 3

“What, aren’t I allowed to gawk at my own daughter?”

“It’s the way you’re doing it. It doesn’t suit me, does it?”

Even though I asked Missy to go light with the make-up, it feels as if it’s been trowelled on.

“It certainly does suit you,” Mamma says. “If only you’d stop pulling those faces.”

Missy stands back to survey me. “Hmm.” She steps forward and dabs at my lower eyelashes with the brush, and says, “There. Done.”

“Well, let’s see.”

Missy holds the round mirror to her belly, “Girls, you see it first — what do you think? More rouge?”

Sarah bounds up from the sofa first. “Wow, what a transformation. No, no more rouge.”

CeeCee stands and snaps a photo. “That’s going on Spacebook. Stop fussing.” She slaps my hand away as I go to fumble with my eyelashes.

“Missy,” Mamma says, “you’re an artist. You made that blank canvas into something spectacular.”

I roll my eyes. “Blank canvas, geez.”

“Well, you know what I mean.”

“Let me see!” I say, excited.

“Don’t touch your curls!” Missy yelps. She spent the better part of an hour wrapping locks of my hair around rollers.

“No.” Missy laughs and puts the mirror face down on the bench. “Let me finish your hair first.”

I groan. “Just one little peep?”

She laughs and hands me the mirror. My eyes made-up look bigger somehow, and brighter. Missy used a special technique to contour my cheekbones, which takes away some of the fullness in my face. My lips are a natural pink with a little gloss to make them shine. “Geez, Missy, I don’t look like this when I put make-up on myself.”

“You’re welcome,” she says with a huge smile. “I am so jealous of your long eyelashes it kills me when you don’t even appreciate them. Totally wasted on you.”

I laugh. “Maybe not. Maybe I will start wearing gloop. I can’t believe it…”

“Let’s unwind the rollers and finish your hair. You’re seriously going to be the best-looking bride I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m dizzy with all these compliments.”

“Get used to it,” Missy says. “You’re going to be showered with them soon.”

I glance over at CeeCee, who’s suddenly quiet, staring off into the distance. She’s going to tell the girls about Janey tonight, but she was worried it’d cast a pall over the evening. I reassured her that they’d want to know, and being together whether we’re laughing or crying is all that matters.

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