I feel I've made a terrible fool out of both myself and Rosco at the same time. I wish you could speak, I need help and advice. I don't know what to do! It is the day that Rosco comes over for supper. It is going to be so awkward and uncomfortable. Oh, diary. What should I do?
Ruby
In my room I wait for my mother to arrive. She has told my lady-in-waiting that she would rather help me dress for such
a special occasion. Dotty seemed to be taking
a lot of things into her own hands lately, had she gotten bored of just telling others what to do and never getting to do those things yourself? I know I did. I shuffled across the room away from my large four-poster bed and towards my mirror and make-up supplies. I sit down and pick up my favorite hair brush, the one with dazzling gold and blood rubies, and begin to brush my hair. This is how I remain until Dotty enters my room unnanounced. The pink silk curtians hang open slightly, but it is enough to see the new dress I am to wear tonight sprawled out across the soft comforter on my down-filled bead. The pillows have been recenylu fluffed by the servent girl with the cut out tongue. My mother walks over to bed after smiling at me lovingly and then picks up the gown with graceful fingers and an eleqeunt step. After last night's fiasco, I have decided that I need to talk to someone-possibly my mother-because Diary cannot answer. In my quarters, the new turqoise gown that has been made for me specifically for this night by our best seamstress is being tightened by my mother. She tightens it so much, that she makes me look three sizes smaller. And I am already very petite.
Dotty! Stop, it hurts!She continued and my voice grew louder, angrier.
Please! If you pull it any tighter I will appear to be starved! Now stop!.....please.....She looked shocked but nodded calmly and tied the ends of the ribbon on the back of my gown into
a perfect bow. I try to let out my breath, but the tightness of the dress sinches me and holds it in. I sigh.
Then I did the unthinkable. First, I appologized to her. And then, I actually asked her for advice. I had never been close to my mother. It had always been my father who picked me up when I fell and wiped away my tears. Not because she didn't care, but because I had pushed her away and asked for father instead. I knew it hurt her, but I hadn't cared for some time for whatever reason. I-I guess I do....now.
Mother, how should one behave when you've completely humiliated both yourself and someone who is supposed to be very close to you?She smiled. I think maybe she believed I was talking about me and her, or maybe she knew already. In that weird way that mothers always know what you're talking about, always know what you mean. No matter what she thought, I wouldn't correct her. She pulled me onto her lap and stoked my hair. She seemed like she was going to cry. Possibly happy tears. Maybe she was so happy I had finally opened up to her that she had been so overwhelmed that she bagan to cry. I didn't want her to cry, I reached my hand up and wiped away her tears. She caught my hand and held it to her face.
My precious daughter. Of what do you speak? Is it what I think it is about? Or could it possibly be something else. With whom do you wish to make ammends?I pulled back and looked up at her. She knew. I knew she did. It was her tone of voice that gave it away. That comforting, soothing tone. She just wanted me to be brave, to say more. So I did. I told her everything.
When I was finished, she smiled down at me and-this was quite strange to me at the time-she laughed. But I quickly made it clear I did not find it funny and she silenced herself right away. It was good to speak with her like this. It made both of us feel better. Much better.
Mother, what do I do? I wish only to make things right, but I haven't the slightest clue how to behave in front of anyone my age, let alone a boy. Not to mention the fact that he is the boy I am to marry....She purses her lips together and then bites her bottom lip. She smiles down at me and then removes
a lock of silvery hair from my face with gentle, motherly, care.
When you discover the "appropriate way" to behave in front of those of such importance, let me know. I don't believe there is anything set up. It isn't like how you treat me or your father. It has to come from your deepest heart. I know how silly this must sound to you, and it must not seem very helpfull, but the only way I can describe it is to be yourself. Your lovely, gorgeous, beautiful self.She reached down and grabbed my face in her hands. Her lips pressed against my forehead with deep affection.
If you are yourself, it will be easy for anyone to fall in love with you. Just your father and I did when we first saw you at birth. Surely they'll love you as much as we do. Surely Rosco will.That was when I began to weep. When she said his name. Why I wept I did not know, but I did nonetheless. All the while my mother comforted me. I should have gotten closer to her sooner. I should have let her in.
