Lynned13: To answer your question, "why are they so old?" LOL :D Answer: My story takes place in modern day America. So I couldn't keep them young (like in the book). In this day in age, 20 or even 27 is too young to feel like you want to desperately marry or desperately marry off your daughters. What 27-year-old would want to marry Mr. Collins (yuck)? Another example, in the book Lydia is a teenager when she runs off with that scoundrel, that would definitely get Wickham arrested for kidnapping and worse nowadays.
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I made sure to stay on base after work – thankfully, I technically still have a place to sleep on base.
At 0400, like clockwork, I automatically wake up for the day (regardless that I've only just slept 3 hours – thank you Marine Corps). I quickly change into my running clothes and head out into the still dark morning. Today more than any other day, I require my morning run.
Dress shopping and a dinner party with my mother calls for the necessary mind clearing run.
After mile number 2, my body settles for walking the rest of the way toward my truck. Not surprising, this run didn't help a bit for clearing my head.
Maybe I should stay on base. Maybe I shouldn't go. Pops will be so furious. Char will definitely punch me in the face for deserting her. Argh!
The 2 hour drive home was not easy. I struggled. I struggled to continue going the direction I was heading and not the direction I really wanted to (back to base). It may seem like was scared to go home, but the truth is, I just want to avoid my Mother completely before the party. I don't want to be scolded for 5 hours. Also, knowing my mother, she probably bought a dress for me anyway – A dress that was too tight and too revealing to even consider wearing.
Not today Satan.
I ate breakfast at my favorite 24 hour diner and picked up Char at 0900 because as she put it, no way in hell was she "waking up at 7 a.m on her day off for breakfast". She emphasized she was a toast eater and toast wasn't worth waking up early for. To me Jelly toast was the snack I ate after my 3 pancakes, a mountain of hash browns, 3 pieces of bacon, and 2 biscuits and gravy (no eggs YUCK).
Now at 1300, I'm exhausted and ready to go home. Maybe it was a bad idea to invite Char. She knows that if I don't find an dress, I can't go to Nether Fields (thankfully that stupid restaurant had a dress code policy).
"I guess I can't go Char, bummer I know." I flash her a pitiful feel-sorry-for-me face.
She threw a cute heel, which I actually approved of, at me. "We are not leaving here until we find the perfect dress to match these heels."
"Char, I'm pretty sure I've tried on every flipping dress in this place, in the mall, and in a 100 mile radius."
It never failed; most girly things looked awkward on me. I have an average figure but because of my trade I have muscles that are way past what a "normal" female body should naturally have – so dress finding is difficult for someone with my figure. I was what people called athletically built – not weightlifter big but built to fight.
We were currently at some department store in the mall; I forgot the name and didn't care. This was the tenth store we were in and I was tired and hungry. My 0700 breakfast had long past digested and Char, the maniac, was not releasing me until we found a dress.
Freaking Toast eater. Again, BAD idea to invite this monster to go dress shopping with me.
"Excuse me." We both turn toward the Saleswoman. "I know you two were looking for a dress, but this Capelet Jumpsuit is…"
The jumpsuit was beautiful. It covered everything it needed to. I didn't hear the designer or what type of fabric it was, I just grabbed it from the woman and shouted my thank yous as I ran toward the dressing room.
The jumpsuit was indeed beautiful. The fabric is a sort of silky material, although everything feels silky to me.
"How do you like it Rocky? Here are the heels."
Char placed the heels at the bottom of the dressing stall.
If I kept my legs together, the jumpsuit looked like a flowy canary yellow sundress. The "cape" part was long and flowy hitting my elbows. I loved the high neck lacy top, which opened in the back with a thin yellow string holding it together at the top dangling down mid-back. I loved it.
"May I come in Rocky?"
I unlocked the latch and Char gasped.
"What….What happened?" I turned toward her shocked face.
"You look GREAT Rocky. Yellow looks beautiful with your skin tone. You look like a prettier version of Pocahontas. Sit."
I shrugged. I've never been compared to a Disney Princess. I myself have a hard time relating to them. My philosophy is, "Who needs a prince, give me a sword and move out the way while I rescue us." If I had to relate to a Disney character it would be Aladdin or Simba – the rebellious street rat or the outcast runaway cub.
I sat on the velvet chair that faced the dressing room mirror and Char undid my waist-length braid and styled my hair in a bun-type hairstyle with wispy pieces of hair that were scattered around my face.
"So you think they'll let me in dressed like this?" I smiled at her reflection in the mirror.
"Of course Rocky. You'll make me in a wedding dress look like an overdressed peacock."
"No worries Char. I'll always be the plump turkey among a pen of swans. You are safe."
Char poked my side and I take one last look at myself feeling girly for the first time in my life.
