Gaby Book 18 - Summery

“Sounded intriguing,” Mum probed.
“Max’s mum, she’s gonna drop my dress off in a few.”
“Dress?”

I refilled the kettle and set it to boil.

“For the wedding.”
“Wedding?”
“Sara Taxis? I did tell you the other week.”
“She’s getting married?”
“I think ‘has to get married’ is more the case, she’s up the duff.”
“Gaby Bond!”
“Well it’s true.”
“That may be the case but it’s still not very nice to say it like that.”
“Well anyway, that's why the wedding.”
“This isn’t eighteen hundred, they don’t ‘have’ to marry,” Mum declared.
“Not how Max tells it, anyhow it’s in three weeks.”

“Gloria,” Mum greeted the delivery woman, “come on in.”
“I didn’t realise you were back.”
“Only about an hour ago, Gaby.”
“I'd best go hang it up,” I suggested taking the bags from Gloria.
“You should show your mum, Gaby; she looks a complete stunner in it, Jen.”
“I think I'd like to see that,” Mum agreed.
“Go on, Gab, show your mum just how beautiful you are.”

I'm not gonna win this one am I?

“Whatever,” I allowed with a roll of my eyes.

I left the two adults to it and headed upstairs.

Up in the eyrie I surveyed the frock, if I just put the dress on that won’t be right will it, I suppose I've got to go the whole nine yards. Which means I need a shower, oh well, best get on.

I readjusted the wig adding an extra grip, hmm, it’ll do. Of course dressing myself meant a bit of contortion-ism to do the back up and getting my feet into the shoes was fun – not. Now all I have to do is get downstairs – easier said than done in these heels.

“That you, kiddo?” Mum queried when I finally got back to the kitchen.
“Well duh!”
“Mein Gott!” Gloria stated, “she looked gorgeous at the shop but this – fantastische!”
“Mum?”

Mater was just sat there, slack jawed.

“Mum?” I repeated.
“Come here, kiddo,” she requested standing up.

I’m not sure when Gloria left as Mum and I hugged for several, well quite a few minutes. In fact Mum was still holding me when Dad and Mand arrived.

“Can anyone join in or is it a private party?” Dad enquired.

Mum released me and just made some blubbing noises at him.

“I have been telling you, Jen.”

She just sniffed more transferring her grip to Dad.

“Stick the kettle on, Mand,” Dad instructed, “and you, young lady, have some explaining to do.”
“What’d I do?” I asked somewhat confused.
“Just don’t announce your betrothal before we’ve got the dams set.”
“Dams?”
“Your mum’ll flood the valley.”
“Well that's not gonna happen anyhow,” I added once my brain had deciphered his whole sentence.
“Go and get yourself changed, kiddo.”
“You need a hand, Gabs,” Mand offered.
“Er yeah, please.

“So what was that all about?” Mand enquired as she undid me.
“Not quite sure,” I admitted, “I was only showing her the dress.”
“You do look er, don’t take this the wrong way, Gabs, well beautiful, I'd say on a scale of one to ten, you’re a twelve.”
“Give over, you daft moo!”
“I'm not kidding, you’d be a ten in a bin bag but this frock, well no one else comes close.”
“Now I know you’re mucking,” I stated as I stepped out of the dress.
“Just saying what everyone else sees.”
“I'm too short to be the B word.”
“If you say so, I'll see you downstairs.”

I stared at my reflection, maybe it was the make-up? I mean I didn’t go barmy, a smear of lippy, massy and a bit of blusher – nah, apart from the bright red lipstick it’s pretty much what I wear most of the time. Can’t be hair, it’s a wig after all, I winced as a missed grip dragged my scalp. Well it certainly can’t be my bod, I stepped back just to be sure – nope, same as it was, pair of fried eggs, well maybe double yokers, but my hips can only be described as ‘boyish’ - ironic eh?

Okay, I'll admit to not being ugly, the Peters’ women are all blessed with reasonable looks, pretty maybe but beautiful? When I thought I was a boy I guess I did look a bit girly, clearly taking after Mum rather than Dad. It’s a bit ironic that Jools, although sharing the same face she’s taller and has more of Dad’s build than me.

“Gab? You coming or what?” Mand yelled up my stairs.
“Yeah,” I agreed, well maybe I do need to get dressed first.

“You two eating before you go cheerleading?” Dad enquired as I stuffed er stuff in my bag.
“After, is Mum, you know, alright?”
“Fine, just a bit emotional.”
“It’s only a dress.”
“It wasn’t the dress, kiddo.”
“What then?”
“She’s away a lot, Gab, she doesn’t see you ‘change’.”
“Change? I haven’t changed – well maybe this,” I grabbed a pink braid, “but she’s seen my hair before.”
“Look, kiddo, it wasn’t the dress or your hair, you’ve matured, wrong word really but it does the job. It’s not so obvious to me, I see you every day but your mum, well you know she’s proud of you, both of you, but you aren’t her baby any more, you’re a sophisticated, beautiful young woman.”

That B word again.

“What are you two talking about?” Mum demanded sweeping into the kitchen.
“Food,” Dad offered, “you okay waiting until the girls get back, I'll fetch pizza?”
“Think I'll survive.”
“Does that mean we get a lift?” I suggested, well the pizzeria is on the way.
“I suppose so,” he agreed.
“Thank you, Daddy,” I gave him a quick hug, “come on Mand, taxi’s waiting!”
“Ever get the feeling you’ve just been played?” Dad told the room.
“Dad’s prerogative,” Mum chuckled.

“I suppose you want your usual?” Dad suggested as we climbed out of the A Klasse.
“Extra olives?”
“Manda?”
“That chicken one I had last time, please.”
“The Pollo Special, okay I'll see you later.”
“Tschuss!”

We watched him drive away before heading into the Tanzklub.

Lucy landed with an audible thump, only making a slight adjustment to the finish position. The peanut gallery clapped and cheered, it’s the first time she’s landed it with poms. This evening’s session has been pretty good – still room for improvement of course but there always will be.

“Excellent,” I allowed, “now from the top.”
“Slave driver,” Pia stated.
“Puh chuh!” I offered pretending to crack a whip, “back in line, Sebenschuh!”
“Yes, mistress,” she grinned.
“You, Gaby Bond, are scary,” Hannah advised.
“I'll add that to the list,” I told her.
“List?”
“Well according to Mum I'm beautiful and Dad reckons I'm ‘mature’.”
“And what do you think?”
“I think they’re both daft but I'll take your scary.”

Han just shook her head and readied the CD player.

“You want a lift P?” I offered.
“I could be tempted?”
“We are having pizza but Mum’s home,” I apologised, she does usually get an invite.
“’S all right, a lift’s good.”
Dad swung into the car parking area, “Right on time.”
“What happened to the estate?”
“I told you last week, it got squished so we’re using Mum’s A.”
“I thought it was like a bit of a dent.” P mentioned climbing into the back seat.
“Think pancake,” Mand advised.
“Really?”
“Not quite,” Dad noted, “but it is a write off.”
“Geez.”

I grabbed another slice of cheesy, pepperoni delight from the box and plonked it on my plate.

“I don’t know how you can eat that,” Mum stated.
“Dead easy,” I replied wiping a greasy hand on a paper napkin.

It’s not like I eat the whole wheel on my own, Dad usually has some, Goth Gurl too if she’s home. And I have had a slice of the Pollo Special too so it’s not like I'm stuck on the Pepperoni.

“At least have some salad.”

I leant over, nicked a slice of tomato from her plate and dropped it into my maw.

“So what are you up to tomorrow?”
“Probably see Con in the morning, training when Mand gets home.”
“I might be late tomorrow,” Mand chipped in, “we’ve got some careers presentation thing,” she explained.
“You could come out with the grown ups?” Mum offered.
“Both of us?”
“’Course, it’s not full on training just a steady ride.” she clarified.
“You’ve only got a chipper on Sunday,” Dad told us.

I looked at Mand who shrugged back.

“’Kay.”
“Good, that’s settled then,” Mum grinned.

Maddy Bell © 24.01.17