I’d been working late into the night for weeks on the dresses – pale blue satin, with hand-embroidered flowers on the bodice. The girls tried them on, twirling in front of the mirror, planning hair and make-up.
‘These are the most beautiful dresses in the world!’ exclaimed Sophie during the last fitting, running her fingers over the delicate lace trim.
‘Elina, you’re a genius!’ – agreed Liza, studying her reflection. agreed Liza, studying her reflection. agreed Liza, studying her reflection.
I smiled, exhausted but proud. ‘You both steal the show.’
The contest was set for Saturday morning at the community centre near Wendy’s area. Since it was early to start, David suggested we stay at his mother’s house for the night.
‘That makes sense,’ he said when I expressed concern. “She’s five minutes from the venue. Otherwise, we’d have to leave our place at dawn.”
‘But the dresses…’
“We’ll take them with us and keep them safe. It’s only one night, Elina.”
I gave up, telling myself I was being paranoid. Wendy wouldn’t stoop so low as to disrupt the moment of the baby’s birth. Would she?
Friday evening we settled into Wendy’s guest rooms. I hung both dresses carefully in the wardrobe in the girls’ room, making sure they hadn’t wrinkled overnight.
At dinner, Wendy was unusually gracious, asking the girls about school and pageant preparations. I began to relax, thinking that perhaps I had misjudged her.
After dessert, Sophie turned to Wendy. “Grandma, can I try on my dress one more time? Just to make sure it’s perfect?”
There was silence in the room. It was the first time Sophie had ever directly called her “Grandma”.
Wendy gave a strained smile. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You might pick up something.”
‘I’ll be very careful,’ Sophie promised.
‘I said no.’ Wendy’s voice turned cold. “Besides, girl, these pageants are about self-control and natural beauty. Some girls just have them, and others…” She left the phrase out.
Sophie’s face crinkled slightly before she pulled herself together. “You’re right. It’s better to leave it for tomorrow.”
Later, as I was putting the girls to bed, Sophie whispered: ‘She hates me, doesn’t she?’
‘No, honey,’ I lied. ‘She just…doesn’t know how to be a grandmother to both of you yet.’
‘It’s been six years, Mum.’
To that, I had no answer.
The morning chaos started right at 7am: shower, breakfast, hair… all the business. Everyone was hustling to be ready by nine o’clock. As soon as we got to the venue, the girls ran off to the dressing room and David stayed behind to unload the car.
I was fixing my earring when Sophie popped out of the room, tears streaming down her face.
“MAMA? My dress…”
My heart dropped. ‘What’s wrong, honey?’
‘It’s ruined.’
I rushed into the girls’ room. Liza stood there in her perfect dress, looking shocked. And there, on the table, lay Sophie’s dress. There was a rip along the side seam, an ugly brown stain spreading across the bodice, and worst of all, the scorched area went right through the embroidered flowers.
‘Oh my God…what happened?’ I whispered, picking it up with trembling hands.
‘I don’t know,’ Sophie sobbed. “When I saw it in the cupboard last night, it was fine. But when I took it out of my bag to get dressed, it went like this.”
I looked around the room when a low throaty growl came from the doorway. Wendy stood there, impeccably dressed, looking at us.
‘What a shame,’ she said, fake sympathy in her voice. “But some things aren’t meant to be. Perhaps this is a sign.”
‘A sign of what?’ snapped I.
“That some girls don’t belong on this stage. Don’t worry, Sophie. You’ll be able to see Liza shine.”
David appeared behind his mother. “What’s going on? The show starts in five minutes.”
Before I could answer, Liza stepped forward, her face full of determination. ‘I think Grandma ruined Sophie’s dress.’
‘What?’ David looked between them. ‘Mum, did you…?’
‘Of course not,’ Wendy scoffed. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘I saw you,’ Liza replied. “Last night. You came in when you thought we were asleep. You took Sophie’s dress. I thought you were ironing it.”
There was silence in the room and Wendy’s face hardened.
‘Liza, darling, you must have been dreaming.’
‘No, I wasn’t dreaming.’ Liza’s voice did not waver. Then, to everyone’s surprise, she reached behind her back, unbuttoned her dress and stepped out of it. Standing in just her panties and tights, she held out the blue dress to Sophie.
‘Here, take mine.’
Sophie stepped back. ‘No, I can’t…’
‘No, you can,’ Liza insisted, hugging her. “We’re sisters. That’s what sisters do.”
‘Liza!’ shrieked Wendy. ‘Put that dress on immediately!’
Liza ignored her, helping Sophie into the dress. “It doesn’t matter which one of us wears it. We both belong on this stage.”
‘I won’t let that happen.’