Chapter 2 - RSVPs
Wednesday evening, Sam was home, going over RSVPs with her mother.
"Sammy-kins, we have over a hundred that will be attending, including the congregation."
"Great mom. So most of the people will be a captive audience."
"Now Sammy, they will just love to see you in your dress, especially since you don't wear one that often." Sam's mother had bought her a strapless, silver and white sequin dress that shimmered with a hint of gold, floor length. Sam hated the white high heels that came with it. She wanted to wear a floor length, shiny black beaded dress, with fishnet sleeves and trim. Little sewn black roses hung on the front and on the shoulders, making a mournful statement. She could still wear her boots under it. She had bought it too, just in case she could persuade her mother in a last minute change of mind.
She had pictured her Bat Mitzvah altogether differently: Her in her black dress, with dark mascara, dark violet eye shadow, long black gloves, and black, glossy chopsticks in her hair. The Menorah candles would burn with a thin wisp of smoke from each one, the curtains drawn to darken the synagogue, and her, reading the Torah. Now that would make some good pictures and video, pictures she would be proud to hang in her bedroom and post on the net.
Her mother and father on the other hand, had a completely different version planned. They could not accept a Gothic Bat Mitzvah. They associated Gothic lifestyle with some kind of evil devil worship or violent culture. Sam had tried to enlighten them, telling them that most Goths are religious, believing in Christianity (or in her case, Judaism), and that those who associate with dark worship were extremely rare, and were the exception, not the rule. But it is always difficult for a teenager to convince parents that they know what they are talking about.
"Oh the Fenton's are coming. Well…good." Sam glared at her mom.
"They are really nice mom. If you talk to them, you just might learn to like them."
"Oh Sammy-kins, I will certainly talk to them!" But Sam wasn't convinced it would be a cordial conversation. The friction would start as soon as Danny's father Jack opened his mouth. Now if she can just get her mom to maybe drink a little wine first at the reception before she talks to the Fenton's…
She went upstairs to her bedroom. "Goodnight mom."