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“Your grandfather loved it when I dressed up, so I wore something nice for him every single day. When he was overseas he sent back some of the european styles that were trendy at the time. Sometimes as many as a dress a week. When he came home I was pregnant almost immediately.” When I gave her a knowing smile, she simply stated, “There was no television in the bedrooms back then, dear,” before continuing on. “I still planned to wear them, even three babies later, even after you were born, but when Rick died I couldn’t bare the thought of putting them on ever again. However, I also couldn’t bring myself to throw them away.” Mirna laughed. “Of course, there is no way on God’s green earth that these would ever fit me now.” She sighed and plucked a hanger from the rack, shoving it into my hands over the perfect shoe I was still cradling.

“I’m sure you could get them tailored. Or better yet, I’ve always wanted to learn to sew, maybe I could do it for you,” I suggested.

Mirna shook her head. “No, my sweet girl.”

“No? Why not?”

“Your grandfather risked his life to buy me dresses and ship them back to me. Feels wrong to change them now. Besides, I think they’ll fit YOU just fine.”

I pointed at my chest. “Me? Mirna, I can’t.” I held out the beautiful shoe, and the hanger, for her to take them back. “No. I don’t deserve this. Any of it.”

She ducked around my outstretched arms. “Andrea, I don’t know how much time I’ve got left, or how long the lights are going to stay on upstairs before they burn out for good, so I’m going to tell you this now while I still have a chance.” She placed a loving hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “You are a good soul. A good person. We all make mistakes. Lord knows I’ve made my fair share of them in my day. You have to forgive yourself. LOVE yourself. And for Christ’s sake girl, you have to grow some balls. Men want a strong woman who can give it as good as they get it.” She winked.

I groaned. “We’re not talking about clothes anymore are we?”

“Nope. Just remember. Lady in the street and a wild cat between the sheets.”

“Mirna, seriously. I think my ears are bleeding,” I said with a laugh. “Besides, men are the last thing on my mind.”

“What about Samuel?”

“Mirna!” I said, “You want to hook me up with the guy who grows pot in your guest bedroom?”

Mirna shook her head. “No, my dear. But I wouldn’t mind if you considered the man who’s a lot more than he seems on the outside.”

“What exactly is your arrangement with him anyway?” I asked.

“That’s not my place to say, dear. That’s part of our arrangement. But I will say that you shouldn’t be so quick to judge. You only really know someone’s true heart when they really want to show it to you.” She squeezed my arm. “He reminds me a lot of your grandfather, you know. I just hope one day you find someone who takes as good care of you as he did of me.” She plucked another dress from the rack and held it up to me. I hooked my fingers into the top of the hanger so she could take a step back to appraise her selection.

“I’m sorry,” I said, Mirna waved off my apology. “I just want to make sure that you know what you’re getting into with him and that…”

“That’s not something you need to worry about. Samuel is a good man.”

Who killed Eric. “Are you sure about that?”

“Because he’s shown me his heart.” Mirna sighed. “Good people can do bad things, Andrea. You’ve told me yourself that you’ve done some bad things. That doesn’t make you a bad person, right?”

“I’m not entirely sure it doesn’t,” I admitted.

“Oh phooey, you’re not at all a bad person. You’ve got a big heart, and your grandmother’s eyes.” She opened her arms wide. “And with that you can conquer the world.” She added the dress, plus some high waisted shorts and some crop tops to the pile in my arms.

My hands started to shake, aftershocks is what Mirna had called them. I dropped the clothes, and when I bent over to pick them up, she shot me a concerned glance. “It’s getting better,” I reassured her. “I swear.”

“You need to go to a proper rehab facility so you can make sure this sticks. Professionals can get you through this better than I can. I’m a nurse, not a counselor. I know there’s more to this addiction thing than the physical part.”

“Proper rehabs cost a lot of money, and the government funded ones are more like jails or mental institutions,” I said, trying to gather the clothes back up. “And besides, I can’t go because you wouldn’t be there.”

“Then here is what we are going to do,” Mirna said, again clapping her hands together. She took the clothes from my hands and walked out of the closet, setting them gently on her bed. “We are going to get you all fixed up proper, and then we are going to go outside and meditate in the fresh air.”

“We’re gonna what?”

She put her hands on her hips. “Don’t tell me you’ve never meditated.”

“Not…recently?” I squeaked. “Meditation wasn’t really something I’d manage to squeeze in with all the shooting up and letting people down I had going on.”

She rolled her eyes and returned her attention to sorting the clothes. “Your sense of humor can be as off-colored as Samuel’s. I have a book you can read, and I will teach you. The world is a tricky place. Meditation is a vehicle that will help you navigate through it better, you know, avoid the potholes.”

“In my case that vehicle better be a tank,” I said, bumping her with my hip and dropping a precious shoe in the process.

“Don’t you sass me young lady. I may be losing my marbles, but I’m still your grandmother.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said, with a shoe salute.

“Meditation is like…stretching after a run, but instead of your muscles, you’re stretching your soul,” she said, pinching my cheek like I was a child, making me yelp. “Now, you’re going to take these clothes as my gift to you and you’re going wear them. For ME. For as long as you love them. And right now, we are going to play a little dress up,” she ordered. “Is that clear?”

“Yes, if that’s what you want. But…why?”

“Because, dear, I’ve been waiting what seems like a hundred years to see these dresses on a real person again, and what seems like even longer to see what they’d look like on you. These belong to you now.”

My heart squeezed in my chest. There was no arguing after she said that, even if I’d wanted to argue. Which I didn’t. Not even a little.

An hour later Mirna spun me around to look in the mirror, and I gasped at the reflection before me.

The green and white sundress Mirna had picked out for me had thick halter straps that snapped around my neck, and a squared neckline that pushed up my breasts and gave them a fuller, more rounded, look. The middle was corset-tight and accentuated my waist, while the bottom flared out slightly in an a-line, ending right above my knees.

And, of course, I was wearing THE platform, black pumps with bows. “Who says love at first sight doesn’t exist?” I whispered as I turned my foot fr

om side to side, to better admire my new lovers.

Mirna set my long hair in a style I wasn’t sure I could ever duplicate myself. One side was tucked behind my ear, and the other side fell in cascading waves over my shoulder. Decadent Red was now on my lips as well, while black liner on my eyelids topped off the look. For an every day look, I’d prefer a more muted version of the pinup in the mirror. But, right then, I couldn’t even believe that girl was me.

For the exception of the scars on my arms, the junkie was nowhere to be seen.

“I look… I look like…” I stammered. A human being.

Mirna stood behind me. Her eyes glazed over. Pride filled her expression as she joined me at appraising my reflection. She rested her chin on my shoulder and smiled. “A woman,” she said. “You look like a beautiful young woman. Which is exactly what you are.”

I angled my head so I was resting against my grandmother. “I was going to say that I looked like you.” I turned around and held up my arms. But it had only been two weeks since Preppy brought me to Mirna’s, so even though most of the scabs were gone, the scars, both new and old remained. “Except for these.”

She cupped my cheek. “We all have scars, my dear.” She grabbed my wrists and lifted them to her lips, pressing a kiss to each of my forearms, patting them when she was done, as if the matter was now settled and Grandma’s kisses solved all. And in a way it did.


Tags: T.M. Frazier King Romance