~Chapter 14 - Girl In Blue~
1842 Words
~Louise~
My jaw dropped. There, hanging from the door, was a dream: a figure-hugging dress of shimmering, sapphire blue that seemed to shift and breathe with the slightest movement, its smooth fabric whispering against the wood. And at the foot of my bed, a pair of elegant black heels, polished to a gleaming shine, waited silently, cool and smooth beneath my fingertips. The air hummed with unspoken excitement, a vibrant undercurrent. Mum had clearly gone all out. Tonight held a secret; she had something planned.
“What do you think?” Mum asked, her eyes gleaming with hopeful anticipation. “I spotted it in one of those little boutiques in town, and I just knew it was you.”
“Why? Because I like blue?” The words tumbled out, shock still plastered on my face as I turned to her. “But… I like red too…”
She pouted, blinking at me with hopeful eyes. “Well, tell me honestly… Do you like it?”
“The dress is a little much… And a little short.” I sucked in a sharp breath. “I will need to pull the back down every time I stand…”
“It’s not that short,” she laughed, shaking her head. “Trust me! It’s a mother’s intuition. I know this dress is you. You will look so beautiful...!"
I glanced at the dress again, the sapphire fabric still catching the light. It was undeniably beautiful, even if it wasn’t something I’d usually pick for myself.
The apprehension warred with a bubbling excitement. Was this all for the party?
I raised an eyebrow at her. “Why are you trying to dress me up so much? It’s just a dinner with the entire pack. We’re celebrating Josie-Anne. No one is going to be focused on me. I’m sure I would be fine in pants and a nice top.”
Her glance sobered. With a tear in her eye, she took the dress off the hook and held it against me. “Don’t think badly of me, sweetheart. But I do have an ulterior motive. I hoped you might find your mate at the dinner tonight…”
“Mum, you’re joking, right?” I scoffed, a disbelieving laugh eluding me. “That’s never going to happen. Besides, I’m too young to even experience the mate bond.” And then there was Joseph, the jerk who’d been toying with my feelings. Just the thought of him sent a flare of heat through my chest. No! I refused to even entertain the possibility of finding my mate.
“What if the Moon Goddess has another plan for you?” Mum smiled softly, crinkling the fine wrinkles in the corner of her eyes. She ran the back of her hand down my cheek. “I just know she does. She looks after us. But sometimes these things need a little motherly push. If we can find your mate, we can secure your future.”
I held her hand there as the warmth of tears threatened my eyes. The cancer was ruining not only my life but hers. How could I carry on the Carpenter Omega legacy of warriors? It was taking away the future of our bloodline.
“Mum,” I sniffled. “No matter what happens, will you still love me? Even if I can’t secure our future?”
“Oh, sweetheart,” she murmured, drawing me close. Her arms wrapped around me, holding me tight. “Whatever happens, remember this: I will always love you.”
“Will my destined mate love me when… if it happens?”
Holding me at arm’s length, she rubbed my arms tenderly. “He’d have to be either stupid or blind not to love you,” she said, her voice filled with sincerity. “Any man would. You’re beautiful inside and out, funny, selfless, and strong. You’re all that and more. When you find your mate, and he truly sees you, and you feel that connection, it will be everything you could ever dream about!”
Maybe it’s too late. I wiped my eyes, letting my hand linger where Joseph’s lips had been. But now is not the time. I pushed the thoughts of the jerk out of my mind.
“You deserve the best,” Mum whispered, kissing my hair. “You’re a fighter, a warrior… defined by your spirit, not your situation.”
Her voice, soft and warm, felt like a gentle touch on my heart. Her love was a constant, a steady presence. “I should get dressed,” I murmured, reluctantly pulling away from her embrace. I reached for the dress, its fabric clinging to me as I held it. “This is going to be a challenge to get into alone. Fancy lending a hand?"
“Yes,” she smiled beneath the tears. “I would love to.”
I shed my loose shirt and jeans. A suppressed whimper escaped my mother’s lips, betraying her distress at the sight of my thin, bruised frame.
I instinctively recoiled, but she gently took my face between her hands. “You are beautiful… no matter what.”
I stifled a sob as Mum kissed my head. “Thank you, Mum…”
“Now, no time for tears.” The dress landed on my head, a cascade of silk. It flowed down, settling without a wrinkle. My heart hammered. I couldn’t believe I was going through with this.
“Wow, Louise…” Mum said, her voice hushed as she zipped up the back of the dress. With a gentle hand, she turned me to face the mirror. The sight of my reflection brought a delighted gasp to her. “You look...”
“Beautiful…” A wave of butterflies surged through me. Tears welled, blurring my vision as I cupped my face. “Can this really be me?” A tremor ran through me as I tentatively touched my body—breasts, stomach, hips. The sight left me breathless. None of my bruises could be seen. This was perfect! “It is me!”
“Yes,” Mum cried joyfully. She reached over and kissed my cheek. “See, you are the most beautiful young woman I have ever seen…”
The more I stared at my reflection, the heavier the familiar sorrow became. Wisps of lifeless blonde hair, ravaged by medication, clung to my face. It barely grazed my chin. The thought of how long it would take to grow back—if it ever did—to its former glory was a dull ache. I longed for the vibrant shine, the healthy swing, the very life it used to possess.
Twisting a few strands around my finger, I turned to Mum. “What about my hair? None of those blonde wigs we have will do the job. They were fine for everyday things, but not for this. I want to feel the way I used to. I want to see the old me in the mirror.”
“Don’t you worry,” she whispered, tapping a finger against her chin. “I can fix that…”
She vanished from the room and reappeared in an instant; before I could even process, she was gone. “I’ve been saving this for the right moment,” she announced, holding out her hands. Nestled in her palms was the most stunning auburn wig I’d ever seen, shot through with delicate red highlights. She gave it a playful fluff. “Well? What do you think?”
“I—I,” I stammered, unsure what to say. “It’s perfect!”
“Here, let’s see,” Mum said, already moving. She settled it on my head, quickly tucking my blond hair underneath. A few adjustments, a fluff, and then she stepped back. “Well? What do you think?”
“When did you get this?” I asked, running my finger through the fringe. “It feels so real!”
“And it should. I had this made with your hair the day we cut it… The week before you started your treatment.”
“You did this for me?” I met her mirrored reflection and saw glee sparkle in her eyes. “I can’t believe it!” I spun around to face her. “Mum, you did this all for me?”
“I’m your mother,” she whispered, happy tears blurring her vision as she arranged the wig over my shoulders. “To see you happy, I would move the very moon from the sky.”
“Mum, I love you so much!” I threw my arms around her and held her tight. “So much!”
She pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I love you too, sweetheart.” Stepping back, she dabbed at her own tears, then gently brushed away the dampness on my cheeks. “A touch of blush, and you’ll be perfect for the dinner tonight.”
She transformed me in under twenty minutes. Powdered, primped, and ready, I barely recognised the reflection staring back. It was a new me, a fresher version. A question bloomed: Would this newfound confidence, this feeling of being reborn, be mine permanently once the treatments ended, the surgery was behind me, and the cancer, finally, was gone?
Mum hummed, a little wistfully, as she carefully applied the last coat of mascara. “This used to be my job… my old job. Once upon a time…”
“Wow, I had no idea you were a beautician,” I confessed. “When did you learn that?”
“Before you were born,” she replied with a soft, reminiscent smile. “But raising a wolf child and running a beauty salon was a little difficult, to say the least.”
“When did you decide it was better to be a secretary?”
With a touch under my eye, she said, “Learning how much money it takes to raise a child alone, even a wolf child… it was an eye-opener.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Mum. I didn’t mean to upset you.” I took her hands in mine. “Dad’s watching over us… He’s here…”
She squeezed my hands, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken grief that hung between us like a shroud. His death was not a conversation we had spoken about since my illness began. But we both missed him, the hole he left in our lives a constant ache.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion that hadn’t yet broken free. “You didn’t upset me.” A solitary tear escaped and shimmered on her cheek before she brushed it away with a shaky hand. A soft sigh escaped her as she took my hand, handed me the black heels, then lead me towards the bedroom doorway. “Let’s not dwell on that tonight,” she said, her voice firming. “I need to get ready. We can’t be late for the Alpha and Luna.”
- Writer
