Dashed Dreams and Mommy Issues

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“How do you always find me Missi?” Reid asked her mother. Missi stood in front of her blocking the sun. Reid sat in her shadow wishing her away. Missi trotted over to the bench, her high-heeled strappies making an annoying clacky sound. Reid sat on the bench facing the Salt Lake City Temple and cursed under her breath.

“I look for the nearest black hole and just gravitate dahlin,” Missi said. Missi stood directly in front of Reid now and pulled her chin up to look at her. “Almost as beautiful as your mommy,” Missi said. In reality Reid really would be the spitting image of her mother, if, her mother hadn’t had cosmetic surgery. Her mother’s dark skin was tighter, lips plumper, cheeks more defined, and a nose that now differed from the families. Her breasts were also embarrassingly noticeable. Reid shook her chin loose from her mother’s cold, gel set nails.

“What do you want Missi?”

 

“To see how you are doing?” Missi replied, sitting delicately next to Reid on the bench.

“Don’t pretend to care.”

“I said to see. I don’t care dahlin. However baby, one true thing your sow of a Gramma said to me one time, what’s for you won’ go past you.” Reid looked across at her mom and sneered. Missi was applying more lipstick. She adjusted a strand of her long black hair and then noticed Reid’s expression. “You should do that in public more often Reeree. Show the world what you’re really like.”

“A reflection of my mother,” Reid said wearily.

“He wasn’t good for you Reeree,” Missi continued.

“He was just right for me Missi. Why can’t you let me be happy?”

“I wouldn’t be your mommy then would I?” Missi replied. Reid missed the scowl that showed Missi’s true age underneath all the primping. “Anyway, you make it sound like I was responsible. Dean was the cheater.”

“You know what Missi, haven’t you got some criminal negligence to take care of?”

“Taken care of dahlin, you’re 20 now, remember, and still unmarried.” Reid hung her head in shame. She stared at the customized Doc Martens she had bought to wear underneath her dress. They were Pure white with a small silver wedding bell pattern.

“Anyway Reeree, as much as I love our monthly chats, places to see, people to do.” Missi stood up and smoothed out her pink sash of a dress. “Hate your shoes,” Missi called as she sauntered away.

Reid rested her elbows on her knees and watched as the patrons of Temple Square milled around the pool of reflection. She let her long black hair, that was almost as beautiful as her mother’s, fall across her warm brown cheeks and let her tears drop to the dry pavement below. She reveled in the small droplets rather than wipe them away and she dwelled on the pain and sorrow twisting her stomach in two.

Dean had done this. He had betrayed her only days before they were to be married. Dean had slutted himself around Provo and Orem with any whore he could manage. Friends and family had witnessed his betrayal with several other women. Even Dean’s younger sister Melanie had come to Reid in tears because she had accidentally walked in on him with another girl.

Reid was suddenly aware of the dress bag on the bench beside her. It felt hot. Too hot. She had to get rid of it. She slowly unzipped the plastic bag and pulled out the ethereal silk wedding dress with the wonderful bodice with the pearl finishing, and luxurious skirt and train.  This glorious dress that Reid had thought she would love for eternity would now never be used for the purpose it had been bought. As others watched, she walked over to the pool of reflection staring at the temple in its waters. She laid the garment on the surface breaking the temple’s image and pushed the garment away from her. She swiftly walked past the Joseph Smith Memorial building to where she had parked and headed for home.

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