Page 122 of The Sisters
Violetta had enjoyed creating the perfect Christmas dinner for them all. Birdie and Spencer were staying upstairs, getting ready. Jeff was coming and maybe Grace, she had texted in her message. Carlotta was coming with Chris and Alexia, and Violetta had made sure there were gifts for everyone under the enormous tree that she had ordered and had decorated. The caterers had been paid triple to get the feast ready since Violetta had ordered so late in the season but it was worth it, she thought. Tonight would be a celebration. It was nearly the end of the shoot, which Violetta was glad of. Birdie was home, Carlotta and Chris were together, and she had Jeff. While a part of her was sad for Leon, she was surprised how easily he slipped from her thoughts. She enjoyed her new relationship with Spencer, which was much the same but somehow deeper. His love for Birdie was obvious and it gave Violetta a sense of peace when she saw them together.
‘I hope we have that,’ she had said to Jeff when she was telling him about her parents.
‘We do,’ said Jeff, sure of himself as he got ready for work.
She was spending more time at his apartment, making little changes here and there. Bringing in more of her things. Jeff didn’t seem to mind; actually he encouraged it.
‘I think I will need a bigger wardrobe,’ he said, as he surveyed the shoes and clothes spread about the bedroom.
‘I’m sorry, do you mind?’
‘Not at all. This is why I bought this place. I had hoped for someone to share it with and now I have you.’ He kissed her on the tip of the nose.
‘I love you, Doctor.’
I love you too, Violetta.’
‘Bye, Doctor.’
Still thinking about Jeff, she ran upstairs and dressed for dinner. Birdie had always insisted on dressing for Christmas dinner, and Violetta had gone all out. A white tulle and gold beaded Oscar De La Renta dress, with gold Christian Louboutin heels. The thin straps showed of her shoulders and her tawny hair was pulled up into a high ponytail. She checked her makeup, gold highlights around her eyes and a shimmer of blush and lip-gloss finished it off. Spraying a mist of Prada perfume, she walked into the mist and felt it settle about her décolletage.
‘Violetta,’ she heard her mother call.
Violetta walked down the hallway and found her mother in her slip and nothing else. ‘You OK, Mom?’ Birdie still had trouble remembering things, forgetting halfway through a task.
‘Wardrobe crisis,’ said Birdie. ‘Oh, you look lovely, my darling.’ She stepped back to look at her daughter.
‘Thank you, Mom.’
‘Your doctor will think so too, I’m sure.’
Birdie hadn’t baulked when Violetta told her she was dating Jeff. She thought it was perfect, and this would be the first time Birdie had seen Jeff outside of the hospital.
‘So what are you wanting to feel like, Mom?’ asked Violetta, walking over to the expansive walk-in closet.
‘I’d like to feel like…’ Birdie trailed off. Another side effect of her injury. ‘Like life!’ cried Birdie, happy to have the word she had been searching for.
Violetta looked at the racks of clothes in front of her. Birdie was in good shape for a woman of fifty. Violetta searched through till she found the dress she had been thinking of. A dark green silk dress, crossed over and tied at the back. With butterfly sleeves, it was stunning. It was one of the first dresses that Birdie had made for herself as a young woman.
‘That’s a lovely dress,’ said Birdie, looking at it curiously.
‘I know. Do you remember who made it?’ asked Violetta.
‘No, who?’ said Birdie, reaching inside to look for a label.
‘You did, Mom,’ said Violetta proudly.
Birdie looked surprised. ‘It seems I did many things I can’t remember.’
She slipped the dress on with Violetta’s help and stood back and looked at herself in the mirror. The draping was lovely and set off the slight auburn tinge to Birdie’s hair.
‘Pop these on,’ said Violetta, digging out a pair of black velvet pumps with a low heel.
She took a length of fine gold chain and draped it about Birdie’s neck, stood back and looked at her mother.
‘You look beautiful.’
Birdie kissed her daughter’s cheek. ‘Thank you, my love.’
