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Robin Ayele

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Member Since: Jun, 2007

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Cinderella
By Robin Ayele
Monday, August 13, 2007

Rated "PG" by the Author.

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One woman's determination to turn herself into a princess for just a few hours even if her every day life was no fairytale.



I always did want me a big weddin’. You know the kind in a church with lots of folk wishin’ me well? I would have on a fancy dress with plenty of lace and one of those pretty long veils as I went down the aisle grippin’ my stepfather’s arm. My real daddy was locked up so I knew he would never have been part of my fantasy no matter how much I prayed but I would still think of him when I took my vows. Then after the ceremony we would be whisked away in a stretch limousine, sippin’ on bubbly until we got to our reception site, which would be one of those quality hotels where they had real linen tablecloths… Yeah I always thought it would’ve been like a fairytale. But reality and dreams was two different things.

Well I wasn't gettin' no big weddin' but I was finally gettin’ hitched even if it was nothin’ like I’d expected. Even so I planned on makin’ the best of it. When life gives you lemons, make lemonade as Uncle Juney used to tell me. God had been merciful enough to give me a decent man and today was really and truly my weddin’ day. And I was gettin’ ready, no more play actin I thought drawin’ on a layer of that expensive red lipstick I’d picked up in CVS earlier.

I pressed my smackers together and dusted my round cheeks with sparkly face powder before applyin’ a coat of mascara to my lashes, hopin' it really was smudge-free. Why, cuz I was sure to cry a bucket load of tears. I’d always been a crybaby; droppin’ crocodile tears at every little thing. But that’s all right. It made me human. Showed I had feelin’s and weren’t ‘fraid to show ‘em. Unlike some people who were numb to life and didn’t cry even when their own Mama died. I knew plenty folk like that, not namin’ names.

Finally done with my makeup, I smiled to myself, knowin’ my life wouldn’t be the same but that was a damn good thing. First change would be to my name. I would have no problem droppin’ my maiden name - Butt. The teasin' I’d had to get through growin’ up. Yes honey chile', I had had to carry that messed up name all my life and now I could ditch it like trash. I could be a Mercer. What a fancy smansy name. I even liked the way it rolled off my tongue. Meerrcceerrr. Darlene Mercer…Almost sounded like those rich folks up in Valley Hills. Yeah I could live with that name forever and say it with real pride, my head held high too. People might even think I came from money or somethin’. Never mind it wouldn’t be the truth.

I pulled open the plastic package of stockings that I’d spent a pretty penny on. The kind that should never ever run. In fact they should be made of gold or somethin’ I thought tryin’ not to snag the silky white nylon with my newly manicured nails. They were painted Racy Red; and the manicurist had even added tips, just to make ‘em look more glamorous. After all, my left finger would get a piece of bling bling in oh ‘bout two hours. Um hum.

With special care, I slid the stockings over my hips relieved I’d managed to get away snag free. Oh doll baby I was relieved to get into a size twelve, which would’ve been sure ‘nough impossible two months ago. I’d gone on this cabbage diet, lettin' go all the food I loved just so I’d be beautiful for my big day.  And it had worked. Or at least it seemed to but then Dee Dee told me that I hadn’t lost one pound and I’d only dropped water weight.

Well truthfully I didn’t give a hoot as long as I looked like a skinny Minnie and that my sweetie noticed. The reward would be if his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree when he saw me standin’ there in all my glorious white. No one else would have to think I was the fiinest bride they’d ever seen.

I slipped on my white high heels and then headed to the closet for the dress, which was on one of those satin hangers I’d paid an extra ten dollars for. After today I might have the dress preserved like Dee Dee had done after her weddin’. After all it deserved to be kept nice for the daughter I hoped to have one day. She’d feel real privileged to wear her mama’s dress cuz it was so dainty with those satin bows and sparklin’ sequence thingies. Yeah she’d thank me for havin’ thought of her. I carefully pulled the hanger off the motel rack and stared at the dress for just a minute. Yeah it was just right for me. A floor length number, it was strapless and low cut, which would show him what he’d be gettin' later. Yes doll baby it had been well worth the two hundred big ones I’d shelled out for it. It accentuated all my feminine curves. It was like it’d been made just for me. As if the seamstress had been told by an angel to make this for nobody but Darlene Bernice Jean.

Since I had nobody else to admire me I stood in front of the cracked full-length mirror and did it for myself.

“Oh aren’t you just a peach! Lovely! Breathtakin'.  Just like Cinderella.  From rags to riches girl," I said, turning from side to side truly in shock at the woman in the mirror. I mean there was an absolutely stunnin’ woman standin’ there gazin' back at me. Oh honey chile' I hadn’t been this dolled up since I was in that Thanksgiving Parade twenty years back. But I was even better lookin’ now if I must say so myself. It was like the woman with the baggy clothes and stringy hair was completely gone. She had disappeared back in to her world of trailer parks and nine-to-nine at the local big box store. No she was no longer there: it was like Cinderella was present and she was ready to go get her prince. And my hair, just treated with one of those home black rinses, was piled up on top of my head and I swear I felt like a queen or somethin’. And truthfully I felt like one too and I realized that I was still an attractive lady even if I was headin’ toward that middle-aged category.

Yes ma’am, I was somethin’. Could’ve been that Julia Roberts. If they had gotten a look-see at me first, I would’ve been the pretty woman in that movie, dancin’ the night away with that Richard Gere. If I’d had a crack at him, I wouldn’t be standin’ here now in some rat infested motel now. No indeedy I’d be in a mansion, nibblin’ on Bon Bons and sippin’ champagne out of a gold goblet. Well it surely wasn’t meant to be but at least I got my sweetie, I thought grabbin’ the dingy purse that Dee Dee had lent me as somethin’ borrowed though I had nothin’ blue or new.

“Sweet Jesus, she could’ve at least cleaned the darn thing. Even if she’d carried it at her own weddin’, that was way over fifteen years ago. She could’ve made it special for me,” I whispered tryin' to brush off red lipstick stains.  That only made it smug. 

I sighed, comin’ to another realization. Dee Dee would always be Dee Dee. Not thinkin’ bout nobody but herself. She even took care of her own needs over her no-good husband or those four rug rats she had popped out like hot biscuits. Wouldn’t even think to come down here with me as I recited my weddin’ vows. She had too much to do, she said hurtin’ my feelin’s. I opened the front door, squintin’ as sunrays almost bore a hole clear through to the back of my eyeballs. I blinked  back round yellow balls.

Well at least it was a cloudless day. That was a good sign I think. Meant life would be good from here on out especially after my sweetie got out from that hell hole he was in. None of it had been his fault but the Judge had thought the worse, throwin’ the book at him like he had murdered somebody. He had not even been the one to take the money out that cash register.  Now how unfair is that when you got the real criminals runnin’ around here on the streets, preyin’ on innocent people.

Oh well, I had no time to dwell on the past. I gripped the hem of my dress and hiked across the parkin’ lot to my shiny red-pick up. I prayed my dress wouldn’t get dirty. I had cleaned out the inside of the truck as best I could last night cuz I sure didn’t want to look like a grease ball on my weddin’ day. My weddin’ day! Oh honey, I still had to pinch myself to believe it was actually gonna happenin’. I stepped into the truck imaginin’ the truck being a limo loaded with happy, smilin’ bridesmaids cheerin’ me on. I revved up the engine, lovin’ the roar of the engine. Smilin’, I pulled out of the parkin’ lot kickin’ up plenty of red dust as I headed east toward the county jail.

Copyright: October 2006     
 
    

       Web Site: Cinderella Dreams

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Reviewed by Afrika Abney 8/26/2007
Interesting story! Thank you for sharing this with us.




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