Page 15 of Lighting Up Christmas

“That sweet moment we just had won’t get you out of trying on the dress,” Sophia cajoled, waving the dress as if Riley were a recalcitrant bull pawing the ground. “If you do, I’ll let you go home early.”

“Early?” Riley laughed. “I’ve already passed my pumpkin state and am now squash soup.”

“Your pumpkin state would be super appealing in a blue dress.”

Riley kicked off her work boots. “Okay. For you. And you get one shot with your phone but not on Instagram, because I’ll scare everyone out of coming here or buying any locally made or vintage clothing items.”

“Yeah. That’s going to happen,” Sophia grumped, but her tired eyes shone as Riley shucked off her work pants and peeled off her thermal shirt.

“I have a makeshift dressing room,” Sophia said, looking out the large front window to see the deserted street with the old-fashioned streetlights that the fire department and city volunteers had already wrapped with red lights over the past couple of days. “Show off. I swear you don’t have an ounce of fat.”

“Or boobs.”

Riley took the dress from Sophia and slipped it over her head.

“Happy?” She belted the dress with the thick, silky tie that wrapped twice around her waist and tied a messy bow. Riley struck a dramatic pose with the back of her hand limp on her forehead and the other one on her lower back.

“I do declare I’m feeling so faint from all the dancing.” She fanned herself with her hand. “Perhaps a glass of peppermint schnapps to kick off the holidays.” She blinked several times at Sophia, who stared at her.

“Show’s over.” Riley plucked at the bow.

“Stop.” Sophia stayed her hand.

“Oh right. I promised you a picture.”

“I want more than one,” Sophia said, and then she pulled at Riley’s ubiquitous braid, loosening her hair and spreading it around her shoulders.

“If Mr. Aviators could see you now,” Sophia said.

“He’d turn right around and walk out the door,” Riley said. “Slam it in my face for the third time today while enunciating ‘no.’ I inspire that word in a lot of men,” Riley noted.

“No is not the word that comes to his mind.” Sophia pulled out her phone and began to boss Riley into poses. “Stand here,look over your shoulder, put your hand on your hip—no, not like that, like this, chin down. Hold this.”

“They have professionals who do this and look fabulous,” Riley said. “And you are not to post these. No one will take me seriously ever again.”

“You are too worried about your image. You don’t have to play boyish to get hired.”

“I don’t play boyish,” Riley objected.

“Yes, you do. You’ve always acted like you’re one of the boys. You were even the kicker on the freshman high school football team and the JV team sophomore year.”

“That’s because Jerome got hurt twice and I played a lot of soccer and my brother Drew was the quarterback and he’d made me play with him all the time growing up, so he knew I could kick the stuffing out of anything not running in the opposite direction.”

“Still, you flew your tomboy flag loud and proud.”

“Still do. I had to. My brothers and cousins would have eaten me alive. I would have been a snack leaving them hungry for more.”

“Well, you look amazing in that dress. The color, the fit. You dominate. Queen,” Sophia sung out showing Riley the pictures.

Riley scoffed, barely looking, and then Sophia cupped her cheeks and looked deep into her eyes. “Look. See yourself. See what I see. See what others see.”

“I don’t need to,” Riley said. “I don’t want to change. I’m good.”

Besides it would feel too much like giving up, giving in, proving to her stepmom and her aunt that they’d been right—all she needed was to change the way she looked to be lovable. Glitter on her eyes, gloss on her lips, a blow-out. Sexy dress. And men would find her attractive. But that wasn’t her. She’d do it ifand when she wanted. On her terms. A man wanting that woman wouldn’t want her.

“You don’t have to change; you just need to branch out a little sometimes. Take a risk. It’s just like you wanting to change up Flanagan & Sons, right? You want to grow in a different direction, not give up the residential work but add commercial jobs, hire more employees, offer landscape lighting design, and sell some unique lighting fixtures. You’re still going to be the boss of Flanagan & Sons. You’ll still be an electrician. You’ll just be doing more things, adding some different skills into the mix.”

Riley made a face and took Sophia’s phone. She scrolled through the pictures quietly, trying to see what Sophia wanted her to see. She felt a little itchy, like her skin was too tight, embarrassed like she’d been caught lying or—

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