Pink Parfait with a Cherry On Top

   Here we are at Theme Thursday again. Which means that after you read my story you go on over and check out whose in the pink at Theme Thursday. This week’s theme was pink. Well let me tell you I searched through my mind and thought of all things pink. I love pink. I thought of pink wintergreen life savers and pink double bubble gum. I thought of pink baby blankets and for that matter little pink babies. Then I thought of pink cotton candy and it made me take a left turn down memory lane. So sit and eat your pink parfait but don't eat too much or you'll need the pink cure for diarrhea.

She stepped out of the dressing room and looked at herself in the big pink balloon of a dress. She jumped up and down and clapped her hands. “Look isn’t it gorgeous?” The sales lady smiled and unstuffed the netting that was stuck in the back of her hose. “You look just like a dream.” Gladys smiled and twirled in the mirror. She had always wanted a big puffy dress just like this one. She felt like Sandra Dee or Debbie Reynolds. They always had the best dresses with loads of crinolines and taffeta.

Her high school didn’t have dances or proms, it wasn’t allowed. Yes, Gladys attended school in Footlooseville. She didn’t get to go to prom and she wasn’t from a wealthy family where she would have been invited to be in the cotillion. She had never had the opportunity to wear such a gorgeous gown. She had been in a few weddings but the fashion was more Gunne Sax and love beads than big puffy dresses.

“Can I have the shoes died to match?” She spun in the mirror watching her dress swirl and twirl. She stopped and thought I look just like cotton candy. She twirled again and stopped, wait! Cotton candy was good wasn’t it? I mean to be dressed like a giant cone of cotton candy? She hesitated then looked in the mirror at the yards and yards of silk and netting and knew she had to have it. It was perfect.

The night finally arrived. She primped for hours ratting her hair, twisting it into the perfect chignon. She slipped on her pink parfait silk pumps and applied just a mist of Love’s Baby Soft Pink cologne.

She doubled checked her eyeliner and smoothed her hair once more. She grabbed her beaded evening bag and headed out the door. She was finally getting the opportunity to go to a fancy party at the country club. It was a pre-cotillion party. She was going with one of her best friends because he wasn’t rich enough to escort his girlfriend to the party. The plan was she would be Edgar’s date and Cora’s date would be Henry, one of the richest boys in town.

Gladys had never met Henry but was sure it would be fun. Edgar after all was one of the sweetest guys she had ever known and made friends with everyone. They would announce the debutantes. Henry would escort Cora to the table and then the four of them would have a nice dinner and dance and who knew maybe Henry would take a shine to Gladys.

Edgar met Gladys at the door and whistled low. “Wow you look just like one of them pink parfait thangs down at the Dairy Queen.” Gladys patted her hair “do you think I’ll fit in? Do you think it’s alright?” Edgar spun her around “I think you’ll be just fine cause you are fine.” They descended the steep garage apartment wooden stairs with Gladys holding on to the rail. “Wow these shoes are slippery. I should have worn them around a little before tonight to scuff up the bottoms.” Edgar stopped, offered his hand and helped her the rest of the way down the stairs. They got into his Camero and zipped through town.

The building was lit up like a Christmas tree. Lights were draped in the trees and everything looked magical. Gladys was giddy. Edgar helped her from the car and escorted her up the stairs. They entered into a beautiful room all golden and bright. She knew everyone was going to be jealous of her beautiful pink taffeta and chiffon gown. She heard a few murmurings. She heard hushed whispers. She looked around the room and saw hay bails and buckets. She saw lassos and lariats and realized not one person had on a ball gown. Not one girl wore a long fluffy, puffy, taffeta-ie, nett-ie parfait pink dress. Not only did they not have on ball gowns with up-dos and silk shoes they had on jeans and western shirts. They had on cowboy boots and belts with their names stamped on the back. Gladys looked around in horror as she and Edgar entered the ballroom with no ball. She could feel the heat in her face and the embarrassment rising up like bile from her belly. She was dressed all wrong. She was Barbie in Farmville. Edgar grabbed her hand and pulled her closer to him and whispered “just go along with me.” She nodded and moved through the crowd.

Edgar made his way to the table and pulled out her chair. She was so self conscious about her attire she wasn’t watching what she was doing and didn’t notice he had pulled the chair out just a little too far. She went to sit and missed and ended up on the floor in a big pink cotton candy fluff. She wanted to die. She wanted to curl right up into a Pepto-Bismol colored ball and die. She wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole. Edgar bent down and helped her up straightening her dress and apologizing. “Oh Edgar, it was my own fault. I didn’t realize you had pulled the chair out. I am so embarrassed I want to die. I am so sorry I’ve embarrassed you. I am just going to go sit in the car” she cried. He smiled his slow sweet smile and said “Glads, don’t worry about it. Don’t cry you’ll ruin your beautiful make-up. Now take a drink and we’ll be fine.”

Gladys did as she was told because she always did what she was told. She sat up straight and wiped the tears from her eyes and took a drink of the cool clear liquid sitting in front of her. She drank deep of the liquid and then felt the burn of the alcohol. She would be fine. She fluffed out her pink tulle and patted her do back into place. Then the announcements were made and the “debs” began their début. One by one these lovely girls from all the best families filed out in their fringed western shirts and starched wrangler jeans. They wore little tiara’s on their beautifully done hair and each girl was escorted by an equally beautiful boy also dressed in western attire.

Gladys looked at Edgar and Edgar looked back at her. He smiled and mouthed “Cora DIDN’T tell me it was western.” Gladys patted his hand and mouthed back “it’s okay.” The couples paraded around the floor and lined up as they were all presented to the crowd. Then two by two they made their way to their assigned tables. Cora and Henry practically pranced over to the table. Cora smirked and said “Oh! Did I forget to tell y’all that this was western attire?” Edgar looked at Cora and then at Henry. Edgar looked at Gladys and she saw the light bulb go off over his head. Cora had not told them intentionally. Cora intended to humiliate them in front of her wealthy cohorts. Gladys saw the wheels turning in Edgar’s brain right through his piercing blue eyes.

Edgar stood and pulled out Cora’s chair as he said “No, no you told me. It’s just that well, Glads here has tickets to the symphony and we didn’t want to disappoint you by not showing up so we thought we would see you presented then skedaddle right on over there.” Cora was so busy smirking and sneering and not really paying attention that she didn’t notice how far Edgar had pulled out her chair. She went down hard. There was a smack as her cheeks met parquet. Henry tried to reach for her but overcompensated and he went barreling right on top of her.

Edgar held out his hand and Gladys took it with pride. She held her head high as she and Edgar walked through the hay bails and barbed wire. She put one slippery foot right in front of the other as they descended the stairs into his waiting Camero.

Gladys never forgot her dinner that night. Never before had she dinned on such a fabulous meal nor felt more beautiful than she did at the Dairy Queen eating her Dude and drinking her strawberry shake in her pink parfait dress with her best friend Edgar.