A Helping Hand

"Ok"

My mom rushed up to me and gave me a big bear hug before disappearing down the long dark hallway. That encounter left me too distracted to continue doing work so I spent the next hour struggling to fall asleep.

The next morning I found my parents in the kitchen doing their usually weekend routine. My mother didn't say anything about our conversation so I didn't bring it up either. During breakfast I kept searching my mother's face for any indications that I didn't just dream the whole thing up myself but she acted like it was just another ordinary Saturday morning. After reading his paper, my father got up and left for the country club for the day. As soon as I heard his car door slam shut my mother rushed over to me excitedly and took my arm in her hand.

"Come on, we have a lot of work to do!"

She led me through the house to her studio. Technically, my mom didn't work anymore but she occasionally did some work for her friends as a throwback to her glory days. Before she met my father she was an up and coming fashion designer with a struggling boutique. She managed to get her collection into a few runway shows and was starting to break through when she met my father. His family had so much money that she would never have to work again, and even if she wanted to he would never let her. When they built this house, years later, she convinced him to give her a studio of her own so that she could do alterations for herself and friends. The studio was a large room filled with closets and mirrors. The few times that I've been in there it was covered in sheets of fabric and partially finished dresses. There is a pedestal in one corner of the room that is about two feet off of the ground and surrounded by mirrors. My mother frantically led me to the pedestal and pushed me up the steps.

"Ok, so first we have to get working on your uniform and then we have to work on training you for the role."

Trying to act nonchalant about what was happening to me I said "Whatever you want mom."