Chapter One

I woke up early on Sunday morning and had just finished washing my face when I decided to return to my bedroom to be alone. I wanted some time to absorb the news myself before I celebrated the information with Mother and Mary Alice: I was finally sixteen years old.

I had never been a vain person, quite the contrary; I usually avoided my dresser with its long oval mirror. I decided I would make allowances for today because I never wanted to forget my sixteen-year-old image and I would soon be gladly preserving it in my mind forever. Every girl should be immaculate at sixteen and I would never ever want to forget the way I looked today.

I closed the door quietly behind me as I left the washroom behind. My room was opposite Mother’s, and neighboring Mary Alice’s, and I was still in no sudden rush to wake them up. I made my way to my dresser and sat on the stool in front of it gazing at my reflection, willing myself to look for the differences that should be obvious now that I was closer on the path to becoming a woman.

I was suddenly disheartened. Even though I had strained my eyes and struggled to find myself more beautiful, I could still see my flaws and there was no difference in my reflection from when I had been fifteen yesterday! I was frustrated to say the least, wondering immediately if I should return to the washroom to hide my disgust. I was hardly worth anything to look at and was raised to believe that my sweet sixteenth would change everything... and it was with that belief that I had desperately hoped that it would have meant my appearance too. I had gone to the extremes; I made an early birthday wish - to be more beautiful like my sister - and it hadn’t come true. I was rather disappointed by this.

How could I not be when, unlike me, Mary Alice was worth every nickel, penny, and dime to look at. She was devastatingly beautiful with long straight dark hair to die for. She would always keep it up in an elegant bun and my constant nagging suggestions to let it flow down never broke her. I envied her hair and her willpower to never show it off. The only times she had it out was during the night when she slept. Had she kept it out, it would have flowed below her breasts like a dark satin curtain.

Her eyes, too, were shockingly mesmerizing. They were a deep blue color and a mysterious aura always flowed within them.

“Happy Birthday, Cyndi!”

I didn’t have to turn around to see who was whispering well wishes to me with a slightly accustomed variation of my birth name. I could see her all too beautiful, too thin figure in the reflection of my dresser mirror. She could see my face in the mirror too and concern drew on her brow when she asked me what was wrong.

“It didn’t work,” I mumbled, keeping my voice soft, “I’m as beautiful as I was yesterday which translates to mean that I’m still as ugly as I’ll ever be.”

Mary Alice approached my side immediately and gently placed her arms on my shoulders looking at my reflection in the mirror. She was still confused with concern.

“I can’t see what you’re talking about. Your big brown eyes are soft and deep brown like fresh molten chocolate and your midnight hair is wavy like the ocean on a-”

“I just wish I looked more like you,” I admitted, interrupting her poetic train of thought. She sighed and took a seat next to me. I didn’t need a very big stool for the two of us because Mary Alice, being so very tiny (even despite her being older), didn’t take up very much room.

“Now you listen to me Cyndi and you listen well. There’s no need to carry on and pout about things that are out of your control. When God created us in the palm of His hands, He sculpted us all individual and unique. To insult your image is to insult a right creation of God.”

I stretched a smile, “You sound like the old nun - Sister Mary Margaret! Your name half qualifies as hers, you may as well become a nun like her too!”

She giggled, “That wouldn’t be the same Sister Mary Margaret who’ll be down at St. Frances’ today?”

I nodded and giggled immaturely as I remembered our most recent rebellious escapades at the local church. I turned to my sister who had inevitably made me feel better. “Will you do something for me today?”

She winked at me, “Only because it is your birthday.”

Good. My looks hadn’t changed but it seemed I had power after all. “Will you wear your hair down for me?”

She seemed stunned at my request but did not disagree. “Can I negotiate with you? Can I wear it down later tonight for your party? I’m scared of Sister Margaret and I suppose she’ll have the cane to me if I wear it down...”

“Don’t make excuses! I wear my hair down all the time and I’ve never had the cane!"

That wasn’t true... but I hadn’t had the cane in so long I may as well have never had it. Mary Alice gently placed a hand on her tight bun, “Negotiate with me, Cyndi, or the deal is off.”

“I thought you were going to agree with me on account of it being my birthday!”

She sighed, “Why don’t I style your hair up for church - and then we can both have our hair up together?”

I had to admit - the offer was tempting - Mary Alice worked wonders when it came to hair. “Will you still wear your hair down for my party?”

Her answer did not come at once. She had closed her eyes as if deeply concentrating on something. “Yes, yes I will...” She finally decided.

“Good - now you can do my hair!”

I shuddered. I couldn’t believe I was going to surrender to the Nun Bun. Mary Alice wore it all the time but she could pull it off... on her head it made her look like a principal ballerina. My hair wasn’t long enough to comply and I had purposely kept it short because I knew I wouldn’t be able to pull such a style off. Father always said Mary Alice’s hair made her look older and more proper like a lady and it was in thinking of him that I swiftly nudged Mary Alice to start immediate work on my hair.

The elbowed reminder worked as it broke Mary Alice out of her contemplative trance. She eagerly picked up my brush and started to work, smiling while humming quietly to herself.

It took her a good fifteen minutes to style. She was used to the design as she routinely did this to her own hair every day, but we were running out of time, and neither of us were dressed in our church clothes yet. I hesitated putting my dress on because it would be the same one I wore to my birthday and I didn’t want to ruin it. I revealed this to my sister when she suggested that we get changed now to surprise Mother. We would often make her late to church.

Mary Alice looked confused, “I don’t understand why you're worried. It isn’t like you’re wearing the same dress to your party.”

I giggled, “Don’t be silly, Mary Alice, how you could possibly know that?”

She didn’t answer.

“Mary Alice?"

--

The packaged gift held little mystery to me because I knew where it had come from and why it was here. It was a thin, long, and red rectangular box wrapped in a golden bow; it doubled as my birthday gift from Father. He may have been out of town but he hadn’t forgotten my sweet sixteenth birthday. He had bought this gift a while ago and surrendered it to Mother for her to pass on to me today. Mary Alice must have been in on the secret too because it was she who had given it to me. She was getting ready for church in her room now and I would soon be too.

I eyed it curiously; I was eager with anticipation to reveal its contents and I could finally wait no longer to stop my eyes from devouring the gift. I promptly moved towards my bed and lay the parcel on my lap like I was ten all over again and my pen-pal Frederick Cunningham had once more written to me. My thoughts turned back to my gift as my fingers traced the gorgeous bow; my brown eyes discovered then the birthday card Father had written to me. I opened it first:

My darling sweet Cynthia Ann,

How I wish I could be there with you on your sweet sixteenth birthday! The longing to see your face light up the same way it did fifteen years ago, when you turned one and received your first doll, is a hard yearning in my heart. I am forsaking much selfishness today, my darling, in allowing you to open your gift when I’m not there; I’ve always enjoyed seeing the rapt appreciation on your face; your gratitude for any and all you’ve received never ceases to amaze me.

I miss you terribly. I hope Mary Alice is taking care of you, though my big little girl will soon need no looking after! I do hope you enjoy your birthday gift and I’ll have to see you in it once I return to Biloxi.

Always I remain,

Your Papa

xoxo

I eagerly removed the delicate ribbons from the box and the deep scarlet lid. I gasped. Inside the box was -

...a twilight grey-blue party frock.

I was so amazed; I didn’t know how to react. Money in our family had been tight lately. We were never without anything but it did mean that Papa often spent time away from us past Biloxi. I wondered how on Earth he could have afforded such a beautiful piece - and then I hugged the dress just like it was the doll I had received when I had turned one.

I love you, Papa.

“Do you like it?” I turned around to see Mother standing in the doorway. Her hair was in a bun too and she was dressed in her church clothes.

“Do I like it, Mama? Yes, yes, I absolutely adore it to pieces! I thought I was going to be wearing my church clothes to my party.”

Mother smiled, “Well, your Papa wanted it to be a surprise. I can see that worked marvelously, didn’t it? Your hair looks lovely today.”

I nodded, “Yes, Mary Alice did it.”

“I should have known. Now come along, Cynthia, or we’ll be late for church!”

I stood up swiftly and took one last look at the intimidating oval mirror atop my dresser. Mary Alice had worked a number on my hair. I stared for a moment at my image. I may not have looked as beautiful as my sister but suddenly that didn’t matter.

I was still sixteen - and I was beautiful.