Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

     "Mom, I'm home!" Francie yelled as she stepped into her house and closed the door behind her.

     Mrs. Peterson entered the room. "Hey, hon'. Got any homework?"

     Francie shook her head. "Claira and I did ours at lunch, and the subjects after lunch, well, we didn't have any."

     Her mother rolled her eyes. "Teachers these days," she muttered to herself.

     "So...uh, are you and Bill going out on a date tonight?" Francie asked.

     "Yep, and since it's Friday, you can have a sleepover with Claira," her mom replied.

     "Great," Francie said. "I'll give Claira a call. Do you think she could stay over here tonight? I think she's getting tired of me going to her house all the time."

     Mrs. Peterson sighed. "Well, yeah, I guess so. I've finally finished unpacking."

     "Cool." Francie flipped out her cell and pressed the number 7, since she had Claira on speed-dial.

     "Hello?"

     "Hey, Claira, it's me. Our parents have the usual plans for tonight. But I was wondering if you wanted to stay at my house tonight, since everything is finally unpacked."

     "Sure, that sounds awesome! I can't wait."

     "Neither can I. Well, pack up your stuff and get your butt over here ASAP. I'll see ya then. Byyyye."

     "Bye."

     Francie hung up and slipped her cell phone back into her pocket.

     "Francie, come here please!" her mother called from the master bedroom. "I need your help!"

     Francie ran upstairs and skipped into Mrs. Peterson's bedroom. "Yes, Mom?"

     Her mother stepped out from where she was in the bathroom attached to the bedroom. "Can you zip me up?" she requested, pointing to her back where her dress was unzipped.

     Francie's mouth gaped open. "You're wearing a dress?"

     Her mom shrugged like it was no big deal. "Yeah."

     "It's pretty fancy, too," Francie said, examining what Mrs. Peterson was wearing. It was a scarlet-colored spaghetti-strapped dress that went just above her knees. She was also wearing red high heels to match.

     Francie walked over to where her mother was patiently waiting for her and zipped up the zipper. "Wow, Mom, you look great."

     "Thanks," her mom replied, blushing a little. "Um, I still need your help with some other things, though."

     "Like what?" Francie asked.

     "Well, I want you to straighten my hair and help me with my makeup," Mrs. Peterson said.

     Francie raised her eyebrows. "Sure." Suddenly, the doorbell rang. "Oh, it must be Claira! Don't worry, I bet she'll help."

     Francie raced downstairs and opened the door. "Hi! Come on in."

     "Yo," Claira said, stepping into the house. "Where do I put my stuff?"

     "Just set it down anywhere," Francie told her. She glanced at the stairs impatiently.

     Claira crossed her arms over her chest. "Francie, what are you hiding from me?"

     "It's my mom!" Francie said excitedly. "She's dressing all fancy and everything! She's wearing a dress and high heels. She even wants me to do her hair and makeup!"

     Claira stared at Francie in astonishment. "No way! My dad is dressing fancy, too! He's wearing a tux."

     "Wow, they must be getting serious with this boyfriend-girlfriend thing," Francie commented.

     "Yeah," Claira agreed. "Now, what're we waiting for? Let's make your mom the most beautiful woman on the planet." The two of them raced upstairs and back into the master bedroom.

     "Hi, Claira," Mrs. Peterson said sheepishly, once she noticed that Claira was looking at her dress in amazement.

     "Hi, Jody," Claira replied. "So, what do you want done with your hair?"

     Francie's mother held up a straightening iron.

     "Oh, good," Claira said, smiling. "Straightening hair is my specialty."

     "I guess that leaves me with the makeup then," Francie spoke up.

     Claira brought in a chair from a different room and Mrs. Peterson sat down on it. Francie grabbed as much makeup as she could carry and set it down on the vanity. Claira plugged the straightener into a nearby outlet and got to work.

     "Hmm," Francie said thoughtfully. "I think pink eyeshadow will work." She selected some makeup that went with her mom's outfit and started to give Mrs. Peterson a makeover.

     Half an hour later, Francie's mother was ready. Her long light brown hair was perfectly straight, and not a single strand was out of place. Her makeup was done beautifully, thanks to Francie. She examined herself in front of the full-length mirror hanging on the wall.

     "Wow," was all she could say. Mrs. Peterson was in her mid-thirties, but at the moment she looked twenty-five. She smiled at her reflection, then checked her watch.

     "Bill should be here any minute," she told the girls, slipping on a white sweater and grabbing her purse. Francie and Claira exchanged excited glances.

     The doorbell rang, and Francie's mom rushed downstairs to answer the door, although she found she couldn't go very fast in her heels. Francie and Claira spied down on their parents from the staircase.

     Mrs. Peterson answered the door. She was astonished at what she saw standing at her doorstep. It looked like Bill, only younger and more handsome. His hair was combed perfectly and he was wearing a very expensive-looking tuxedo.

     Bill was equally surprised at how beautiful Jody looked. Her hair was lovely and her gorgeous green eyes stood out against her makeup. Her shoes made her a few inches taller, so now she was just an inch or two shorter than him.

     The two of them stood there in an awkward silence, gazing at each other with compliments streaming through their heads. Francie turned towards Claira and grinned.

     "You look absolutely wonderful tonight, Jody," Bill finally had the courage to say.

     "So do you," Jody said.

     "Shall we leave, then?" Bill asked.

     "We shall," Jody told him. Then, they stepped out the door arm-in-arm and walked towards Bill's car, closing the front door behind them.

Reviews

[Veronica]

:) nice one laura

[Veronica]

:o nice cliffhanger,it doesnt have to be 'finished',I like cliffhangers.