“My dear child you wither the beauty of a mid-summer eves night, truly mystical and captivating you have become.”


Celeste is cleaning her farm house thoroughly one afternoon when the telephone rings.  She throws her dust rag on the floor before answering the phone.  “Hello,” Celeste spoke. “Celeste its Mr. Spencer, I’m calling to inform you to answer the door when you hear a knock in about thirty minutes.”  Mr. Spencer hangs up on the girl from being so giddy, nervous, and fearful he would blow the surprise he had in store for the graduated cowgirl if she instigated the reason further. He busted up with laughter knowing he might have opened a can of worms with Celeste, but the arrangements were made and there was no way Celeste could wiggle out of this celebration.

Celeste gives the receiver a puzzled glance not sure what she heard her teacher blurted out all at once, and then quickly hangs up saying, “Scheez, how rude!”  She doesn’t think anything about the call, and returns to her chores. Right on cue in thirty minutes Celeste is rocking out listening to country rock tunes dusting her grandfather’s Indian artifacts when a loud pounding on the door was heard.  She turns down the music and tries to wish the visitor would disappear, but the knock came again and more louder than the first one.  Celeste goes to the front door and opens it wide to see whose a knocking. Two beautiful power puff pushing ladies stood at the door with small suitcases in hand when Celeste gives them a confused gaze.

“Are you Celeste dear?” The tall slender face painted lady asked Celeste immediately.  Celeste nodded yes with her head in a daze. “Well, time is wasting we have lots to do so open up and let us in,” the serious small lady requested in a sharp tone. The so called prim and proper woman reached for the screen door and flung it open whipping pass Celeste’s tall frame before the door hit her in the ass. Celeste staggered backwards in whammy disarray as the other taller woman stepped in quickly, and discarded her pretty red suitcase on the kitchen’s round table. Speechless and ataxia, Celeste stood back to observe what the hell whisked into her home when the ladies focus on their subject.

“Could you go take a bath dear, we have to prep you for tonight’s dinner with Mr. Spencer.”  Celeste gives the lovely ladies a disharmony gawk.  It takes the smaller lady to kick the girl into gear, “Come, come, come where’s your bathroom?”  Celeste is about to follow her when she finally snaps out of the hustle bustle treatment,  “Wait a dog-gone moment ladies, could you please explain what is happening here?” Celeste demanded to the smiling ladies.  “Mr. Spencer sent us dear to help you adore yourself with fashionable attire. Did he not call you and let you know we were on our way,” the pretty painted lady said.  Celeste nodded yes and realized she was about to become a girly girl if these ladies were taking charge.  “No, no, no I ain’t doing it, I ain’t never wore a dress and I ain’t starting. Y’all can take your powder puff stuff out of here, and I will call Mr. Spencer to cancel this dinner.”

Both ladies shook their heads silently to and fro with smiles on their painted lips.  “He told us you might give us a fight, I’m here to tell you young lady go take a bath, then we can discuss what will happen.” Celeste gives the small lady who stands the height of her chest a mean glare.  The stream stress gives back Celeste a disapproval scowl.  They both stare at each other when the taller lady spoke up, “Please we are only doing our job, if you don’t like what we have done when we are finished then you can call Mr. Spencer up and cancel, deal?”  Celeste doesn’t know why she agreed by lightly saying “yes,” and went to the bathroom in a huff. Both the ladies snickered at each other an instantly began to decide together Celeste’s color palate after viewing the beautiful country bumpkin.

If felt like an eternity when the tug and pulling of Celeste’s hair stopped.  Her head ached from being stripped down with combs, curling irons and such.  She almost is ready to blow her top dealing with her face being painted up when Joyce the Stream stress enters the kitchen and praised Catherine’s brilliant work with hair and make-up. “Dear God in heaven Cat she is stunning under your creative touch.”  Catherine beamed with glory under the watchful eye of Celeste. “It’s not my make-up Joyce I only enhanced her hidden beauty, but I thank you because I too think I have over done myself especially her gorgeous hair.”  Celeste wiggled in her chair feeling closed in from all the damn pampering the ladies bestowed upon her when Joyce said, “My dear child you wither the beauty of a mid-summer eves night, truly mystical and captivating you have become, almost doll like.  Just wait till you see the dress you will be wearing tonight.”  Celeste rolled her eyes away from the ladies busy eyes, and began to curse the day she met the scholar.


picture by: www.google.com


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