Saturday sunlight spilled through the curtains, very tempting for a day I hadn’t planned to leave the house. But today wasn’t about plans—it was about preparation.
The reunion was only a month away, and if I was going to walk into that room after eight years, I wasn’t going to do it looking like the girl they remembered. I was going to make them stare.
“Come on, champ,” I called out to my son as I grabbed my car keys. “Let's go shopping.”
He appeared at the door, sneakers untied, hair still damp from his shower, grinning. “Can I stay at home?”
“No, your nanny is not coming today,” I said, smiling faintly as I helped him get ready.
R Atelier wasn’t far—at least a ten minutes drive, downtown. I wasn't sure I'd get exactly what I wanted but I still wanted to look.I’d been there once this
