Jennie viewed herself in the mirror wearing the blue dress and hat, an early birthday present from her parents. She turned back and forth, trying to see all sides of herself at once. The color and the fit were perfect.
Mom called up the stairs, "Well, Jen. Does it fit? How does it look? Come on down, let me see it on you."
"OK, Mom. Be right there. It fits perfectly. I don't know how I look but I love it." Jenny skipped down the stairs to stand in front of her mother, grinning as her mother fussed about, straightening this, smoothing that.
"Honey, it fits perfectly. I knew it would. The hat just sets it off, matching your eyes. Now, spin around." Jenny did, spinning on her tiptoes, like a ballerina. "Oh, it's beautiful. Do you like it?"
"Mom, I love it but I'll need new shoes. When can we get them?" Jennie heard a whiney note in her voice so she stopped talking. She was trying to act more grown-up but sometimes it was so hard.
"Shoes? Why didn't I think ... wait a minute, what's this?" Jennie's mom laughed and handed her a big pink shopping bag. Inside were a pair of delicate blue shoes, nylons and a small makeup bag. The makeup bag sent Jennie right over the edge.
She squealed and hugged her mother. "Wow, mom, really? Makeup, too? Cool."
"Yes, as long as you use it a light hand, Dad and I think it's time. You're growing up into a lovely young lady."
Saturday morning, Jennie woke to the sun filling her room with light. The smell of bacon crept up the stairs, Jennie grabbed her robe and ran down to find her folks bustling around, making breakfast. She ate her waffles while reading birthday cards from her grandparents and opening their gifts.
Time seemed to crawl as several friends dropped by to help Jennie's parents decorate the basement for the party. Jennie wasn't allowed downstairs to see. By late afternoon, everyone had gone home to get ready for the party. Jennie showered, dried her hair and lay down to quell her nerves. Jennie's friend Bethany came over to get ready with her. They fixed each other's hair, applied makeup, and when done, judged each other beautiful.
Bethany went to the basement to join the other guests and soon Jennie's dad walked her downstairs to the basement door. He stopped and took her hands in his. "Jennie, you used to be my baby girl, wiggles. Now, you're a young lady. I'm so proud of you." Dad hugged her tight.
Jennie whispered. "Daddy, I love you and I'll always be your baby girl, no matter what."
Dad opened the door. Jennie stepped through the door to her party, feeling different, somehow. She smiled as she saw her friends waiting for her. She laughed and ran to meet them, as they hollered: Surprise! Happy Birthday!
She thought, "I think I'm going to like being a teenager."
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This story (500 words) was written in response to a challenge for the group Easel Musings, the prompt was the picture shown, which is 12 Going on 20 by Lucy Cline If you like this story you might like some of my other writings and you can find them at http://aries18.gather.com/. If you think you might enjoy this kind of challenge please join us at http://easel.gather.com/. We have a great group owner, Reena, who makes this so much fun! We'd love to have you join us.
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Comments: 35
It is wonderful just the way it is.
As you can expect, I'd like to see you spend more time in rewrite, hacking and copy-editing.
She turned back and forth, trying to see all sides of herself at once. The color and the fit were perfect.
Mom called up the stairs, "Well, Jen. Does it fit? How does it look? Come on down, let me see it on you."
"OK, Mom. Be right there. It fits perfectly. I don't know how I look but I love it." Jenny skipped down the stairs to stand in front of her mother, grinning as her mother fussed about, straightening this, smoothing that.
"Honey, it fits perfectly. I knew it would.
OK, it's a perfect fit.
I'd stress somewhere early in the story something about the dress that makes it grownup. It's a dress like her mother wears, A waist, dropping just above the knee. Or, cut to accommodate her budding breast -- blossoming womanhood? However you wish to say it. Then, the metaphor of the perfect fit would mean more than just how the clothes hung on her, but her new roll in society.
Thanks for all the great supportive comments ya'all. Like Elsie said, we need support...I mean writers of course, not that I am 12. At least not on the outside. On the inside, about 16... and I think I always will be about 16 inside.
I am going to take some more time with Jennie. She has something to say that I haven't heard yet.
Here's my parallel story: Reflections
There was one sentence that I don't think was just as you wanted it.
"Yes, as long as you use it a light hand" Of course, I knew what you meant.
Good stuff
Karl, you did a superb job.
Paying it forward!