Page 39 of Christmas with Daddy's Best Friends

Lindsey, her eyes sparkling with excitement, grins and brushes a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. “No problem at all. I was just heading back to my room to get ready for the party. But I can’t find the dress Dad said he packed for me for tonight. I was going to try and hunt him down to ask him.”

“Oh, well, would you like to borrow one of mine? I’m sure I must have something stashed away that would fit you,” I reply, my gaze drifting down the hall toward my room. “Actually, I was just about to get ready too. Want to join me? We can do our hair and makeup together.”

Lindsey’s face lights up with enthusiasm. “That sounds like so much fun! I’d love to.”

It’s the most enthusiasm I’ve seen from the girl since she arrived, and it warms my heart to think she and I have made a genuine connection. I know I like her. She’s smart and witty, with an impressive understanding of sarcasm for someone her age. Just my kind of girl.

Once inside my room, I gesture toward the mirror and the assortment of makeup scattered across my vanity. “Help yourself,” I say, pulling out my own makeup bag. “What’s your go-to look for parties?”

Lindsey’s eyes widen with excitement as she surveys the array of eyeshadows and lipsticks. “I’ve honestly never done this before,” she confesses, her expression giddy. “Can I try one of each?”

I laugh, an image of her decked out like a clown filling my head. I’m confident that’s what I looked like the first time I tried to do my own makeup. Thankfully, I have a mom who helped set me straight.

“When it comes to makeup, I often find that less is more. Why don’t we do yours together? Then you can get a feel for how much to use. I promise, you can go fromPrincess Diariesto Ronald McDonald with shockingly little effort.”

Lindsey laughs. “In that case, I’ll take all the pointers I can get.”

“Why don’t you pick out two or three colors you like? Then I’ll show you the general concept of how to apply it while I do mine. After, we can do yours.”

I meet her eyes in the mirror, and she gives me a broad grin.

“Sounds great.”

As we chat about makeup and share beauty tips, the atmosphere in the room becomes charged with the anticipation of the evening ahead. While I stick to my more classic natural colors, giving my eyelids a light shimmer and painting a thin cat-eye to darken my lashes, Lindsey tries a daring combination of blue and purple eyeshadows that surprisingly compliments her eyes perfectly. I apply the color with care, then decide to add a touch of mascara to complete the look.

Hair is easier, as Lindsey seems to have a good idea of the braid she wants to put hers in. I curl mine, pinning it up in a complicated knot on top of my head, leaving a few curls to cascade around my face and the nape of my neck.

Then it’s time to get dressed. Heading to the back of my closet, I dig through some of the smaller dresses I haven’t worn in years. Tucked toward the back is a crimson dress with a black floral overlay. The belt is a distinct band around the waist, and the red fabric ends at the neckline, leaving the black lace to create a sheer long sleeve.

“What about this?” I suggest, walking it out of the closet to show my protégé.

“I love it,” Lindsey gasps.

“Try it on.” I toss it to her with a smile then head back into the closet to look for my own outfit while I give her some privacy to change.

For myself, I snag an emerald A-line, sweetheart, sleeveless dress with a knee-length tulle skirt and a ribbed corset top. Glitter shimmers throughout the light fabric, and the cups that cover my breasts are beaded intricately to give the dress a fun, flirty, and festive look. It screams Christmas, and with a pair of nude scalloped-edge pumps, I know it will be an eye-catcher.

“Ready for me to come out?” I ask.

“Yep!”

Lindsey stands proudly in her dress, her modest black heels a perfect finish to the beautiful ensemble that makes her look sophisticated and charming.

“That fits you perfectly!” I gush, a smile splitting my face.

“I love it,” she admits, giving me a spin, and the girly movement wipes away all the teenage angst she carries with her.

“Well, then, it’s yours,” I say. “You might find a few more occasions to wear it before it’s too small. I, on the other hand, won’t be able to fit in it again.”

“Your dress is gorgeous,” Lindsey says, her eyes wide with admiration.

Before I have time to respond, a knock comes at the door, and Lindsey strides to open it.

“I hope you don’t mind. I told Dad we were getting ready together.”

“Oh, perfect.”

She pulls the door open to reveal Zach standing there with a charming smile.

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