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I think I floated back upstairs because I don' t remember getting there. But there I was We didn' t have money for white expensive gowns m those days. Light blue was my favorite color. It was beautiful, a satin underskirt with lots of gathered net over the top. A shoulder cape buttoned with tiny blue buttons around my neck. Pink rosebuds were set on the collar. I rubbed rouge onto my cheeks, powder puff all over my face to take the shine off. I felt lucky to have that box of face powder. I had used some of my paper route money to buy it. It smelled good. Some of the girls at school couldn' t afford any so they used flour. X can still remember how funny they looked where the flour stopped at their chinline. X fj.rn.shed rny face by rubbing my finger across the bright red lipstick, then lined my lips using my little finger. Steppincj into white spiked heels, I stood back to admire with what I saw, I felt beautiful and the mirror echoed my feelings. Gazing for a long moment, I realized that Mary Jensen was about to become Mrs. Ewell Anderson. Mama' s voice broke into my thoughts: through the hall, steadied my hand on the bamster and si owl y stepped downs t a 1 rs. My eyes caught a glimpse of Ewell. There he stood, tall and handsome in his brown junior prom s ui t, which he had bought only a year ago when he borrowed from his life insurance policy. He wore his Sunday white shirt and a eyes met mine. That glance between our two pair of eyes was almost like getting shocxsu on Grandma Johnson' s electric fence. I felt shivers go up my back and a lump caught in my mother was already sniffling into her lace-edged hankie, and his Dad sat with a smile on 1 i h |
