Barbara enjoyed the excuse to get dressed up to go out for a formal evening, even if it was simply another charity event her father was obliged to attend.
The lavender-blue dress she'd borrowed emphasized her figure and matched her eyes. She put her hair up with a few soft curls piled on her head, and some loose strands framing her face.
Dark purple eyeliner and black mascara emphasized her eyes.
She placed rhinestone hairpins to hold her hair and her long sparkling earrings added something extra.
Now, where were those dress sandals?
She found one under her bed but where did the other one go?
She was getting flustered for no apparent reason.
Her father called to her, "Barbara are you nearly ready? It's time to leave, sweetheart."
"Almost, I just need to find a shoe!"
"Did you check the closet?"
"No. Ah, thanks, Dad, found it!"
She grabbed her evening bag and a wrap and hurried down.
"Barbie, you look beautiful tonight!" Jim choked back a tear, "you look just like your mother."
"Thanks, Dad, that's a huge compliment."
She kissed his cheek after wiping away a tear.
She barely remembered her mother, it seemed so long ago.
She recalled watching a Cinderella movie with her mom when she was little and sometimes pictured herself as the main character.
She allowed her imagination to drift and imagined for a moment that the car they rode in tonight was her golden coach and she was off to the prince's ball.
It brought a happy smile to her face, and she started humming a tune she recalled from the movie.
She'd never worn such an expensive outfit or shoes, but her friend assured her that she could return them for a refund if she kept the receipts.
It was almost like a fairy tale ... but no, fairy tales never happened to the Gordons.
They worked hard and just scraped by.
And their luck was usually bad.
Barbara didn't have any spoiled step-sisters or a terrible stepmother, but fortunately, her bloodthirsty brother was nowhere to be found. He frightened the crap out of her and everyone else. She shuddered at the thought.
In retrospect, she would much rather have the dismal step-sisters. At least they wouldn't be sociopaths.
Ah well. Off to the ball, er, gala.