Sometimes our closest loved ones are the cruelest. I never imagined anybody being that harsh to a youngster. Our daughter’s outfit was damaged the morning before the school pageant. Knowing who did it and why hurt more than the harm.
As I removed the final batch of chocolate chip cookies, the wonderful smell filled our modest suburban house. The kitchen timer rang. Laughter filled the hallway as my girls planned their school pageant attire on the carpet.
Six years after marrying David, those sounds still made my heart throb. The best part of blended families is seeing Sophie and Liza, my daughter and his daughter from prior marriages, grow inseparable.
“Mom! May we have cookies?” Sophie called from above.
“Only if you’ve finished your homework!” Shouting, I replied.
As both 15-year-old girls laughed in the kitchen, thunderous footsteps rolled down the stairs.
Liza cried, “We’re starving,” grasping for a cookie. Sophie had blonde waves from me, but her black curls mirrored her father’s.
“Dad’s going to be late again, isn’t he?” Sophie inquired from a bar seat.
I handed milk cups their way and nodded. Budget meeting. He advised against waiting.”
Hi, did you notice the flyer? For Spring Pageant?” Liza inquired, beaming. “We should totally do it.”
Sophie paused. “I don’t know…”
Come on! We could match outfits and everything “Liza said.
“And who’s going to make these matching dresses?” I raised an eyebrow, knowing I’d offer.
I saw their similar begging faces.
“Please, Mom?” “You’re great at sewing,” Sophie added.
“Please, Elina?” Liza concurred. She never called me “Mom,” but her pronunciation was kind.
How could I refuse their faces?
“Fine,” I chuckled. “But you’re both helping with the design.”
David fell asleep beside me, and I muttered, “The girls want to join the Spring Pageant. Together.”
Pulling me close. That’s wonderful. By the way, mom phoned. She requests Sunday supper for everybody.”
My stomach twisted. “Wendy invited all of us?”
Despite the darkness, I sensed his hesitancy. “Well, she asked about Liza specifically, but—”
“It’s fine,” I interrupted. We’ll go. Her last remark was weeks ago.”
David sighed. “Elina, I’ve spoken to her often. What more can I do?”
Squeezing his hand. “We just keep showing her that we’re a family… all of us.”
Sunday supper at Wendy’s huge colonial home required moderation. That day too.
“Liza, darling, I got you something,” she said after we completed her delicious pot roast. She gave her granddaughter a little jewelry box.
A lovely silver bracelet with a heart pendant was inside. “Wow, thanks, Grandma!”
Sophie sat silently next her, mournful eyes on her empty plate. I felt a familiar chest heat.
“The girls have exciting news,” I shouted. “They’re both entering the Spring Pageant at school.”
“How lovely,” Wendy said, smiling less. “Liza, you’ll shine onstage. Grace from your late mother.”
Cleared his throat. “Both girls will be wonderful.”
Wendy dismissively responded “Of course,” then looked at Liza. “Are you wearing the blue dress we saw at the mall last month?”
“Actually,” I said, “I’m creating their dresses. Matching.”
Wendy raised her eyebrows. “Matching? But Liza should shine. She looks good.”
“Mom?” David cautioned.
“What? Just suggesting certain ladies are inherently better at these things. It’s genes.”
Sophie shifted her chair. Please pardon me. I need the restroom.”
After she departed, I leaned forward. We discussed this, Wendy. Both girls need equal treatment.”
“Equal treatment?” She chuckled. “I’m not mean to Elina. Realistic me. Your daughter Sophie. Not David’s. Why lie?”
“Because we’re family,” David insisted. “All of us.”
“Family is blood,” Wendy said. “Wishful thinking won’t alter it. Sophie’s not my grandchild. She never will be.”
“Mom, can you please—”
“David, it’s okay.” I gently interrupted him, turning toward the stairs. “Let’s just go home.”
I went to grab the females.
***
I remained up late making light blue satin gowns with hand-embroidered flowers on the bodices for weeks. The girls tried them on, twirled in the mirror, planning their hair and makeup.
“These are the most beautiful dresses ever!” Sophie ran her fingertips over the beautiful lace trim during their last fitting and exclaimed.
“Elina, you’re a genius!” Liza checked her mirror and agreed.
I grinned, fatigued but pleased. “You’re both going to steal the show.”
The community center near Wendy’s neighborhood hosted the pageant on Saturday morning. David recommended we stay at his mother’s the night before due to the early start.
“It makes sense,” he remarked when I worried. She’s five minutes from the venue. We’d have to depart before daybreak else.”
“But the dresses—”
We’ll take and protect them. Just one night, Elina.”
I gave in, calling myself paranoid. Wendy wouldn’t ruin a child’s moment. Would she?
***
Friday night, we stayed at Wendy’s rooms. I carefully hung both gowns in the girls’ room closet to prevent wrinkles overnight.
Wendy asked the girls about school and pageant preparations over dinner, being unusually kind. I relaxed, thinking I’d misjudged her.
Sophie looked at Wendy after dessert. Grandma, may I try on my dress again? To ensure perfection?”
Room got quiet. Sophie initially called her “Grandma” explicitly.
Wendy’s grin tightened. I don’t like that notion. It may yield anything.”
Sophie assured, “I’ll be super careful.”
“I said no.” Wendy sounded chilly. However, pageants are about poise and natural beauty, girl. Not all females have it…” She hung the punishment.
Sophie scrunched up before calming down. You’re correct. Better wait till tomorrow.”
Sophie muttered, “She hates me, doesn’t she?” as I tucked the girls up.
“No, sweetie,” I lied. “She just… doesn’t know how to be a grandmother to both of you yet.”
“It’s been six years, Mom.”
I couldn’t respond.
***
Morning bustle began at 7 a.m. with showers, food, hair, etc. Everyone rushed to get ready by nine. The girls ran to the dressing room as we arrived, while David unloaded the vehicle.
Sophie came out crying as I fixed my earring.
“MOM?? My clothing…”
Heart fell. “What happened, sweetie?”
“It’s RUINED.”
I raced to the girls’ room. Liza stood stunned with her exquisite outfit. Sophie’s dress was on the table. A rip went down the side seam, a dark stain ruined the bodice, and worst of all, a burned area across the embroidered flowers.
“Oh my God… what happened?” Trembling, I picked it up and muttered.
“I don’t know,” Sophie wailed. I saw it in the closet last night and it seemed fine. When I pulled it out of the bag to dress, it looked like this.”
A quiet throat-clearing from the doorway made me turn around. Wendy watched us in impeccable style.
She remarked, “Such a shame,” with fake sorrow. Not all things are meant to be. Might be a sign.”
“A sign of what?” I snapped.
“That some females aren’t stageworthy. Worry not, Sophie. Look at Liza gleam.”
Behind his mother was David. What’s up? The show begins in 5 minutes.”
Liza rushed forward with a determined look before I could respond. “I think Grandma ruined Sophie’s dress.”
“What?” David regarded them all. “Mom, did you..?”
“Of course not,” Wendy laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I saw you,” Liza replies. Last night. You entered thinking we were sleeping. You stole Sophie’s outfit. You were ironing, I thought.”
Wendy’s face stiffened as the room became quiet.
“Liza, darling, you must have been dreaming.”
“I wasn’t.” Liza spoke steadily. To everyone’s surprise, she unfastened her dress behind her back and exited. In her slip and tights, she offered Sophie the blue gown.
“Here, take mine.”
Sophie retreated. “No, I can’t—”
“Liza!” Wendy sputtered. “Put that dress back on immediately!”
Liza ignored her and helped Sophie dress. No matter who wears it. Both of us belong onstage.”
“I won’t allow this.”
David eventually spoke. Yes, you will. Or you may tell the pageantgoers why one outfit is ruined and your granddaughter isn’t participating.”
Wendy’s face blanched. “She is not my granddaughter.”
“Yes, she is,” Liza raged. “And if you can’t see that, then maybe I don’t want to be your granddaughter either.”
Families packed the community center auditorium, excited. I adjusted Sophie’s borrowed outfit backstage as Liza sat in trousers and a shirt.
Sophie said, “You don’t have to do this.”
Liza shrugged. Additional pageants will occur. There’s one you.”
Sophie entered on stage with elegance because she knew she was adored. Not everyone, but the most important.
She didn’t place first. She finished second to Emma’s custom-tailored gown. Sophie valued her pride more than any award as the girls left the stage with crowns.
Wendy departed the wedding early via a side entrance without saying goodbye.
While we ate pizza in our living room, David’s mother texted him, “I hope you’re happy with your choice.”
“I am,” he wrote after showing me. Time to make yours.”
We didn’t see Wendy again for six months. Finally calling, she requested a visit. She then brought two similar gift packages for Liza and Sophie.
Not an apology. That wasn’t acceptance. But it began.
Blood doesn’t bind families. Love does. Children sometimes educate adults what it implies.