Within These Walls (Within These Walls #1)(60)

Once that decision was made, we moved on to makeup. Grace had me strip out of my dress and back into my regular clothes. She pulled out this huge toolbox-looking thing that had about fifty-thousand compartments crammed inside.

“Are you sure you don’t have an apartment in there?” I asked.

She opened yet another hidden drawer. “No, I’m just very organized when it comes to makeup.”

“Obviously.”

I was nervous when she began painting on foundation and puffing on powder. I’d never worn makeup, and even though I had no clue what was going on, I knew I didn’t want to look like a hooker for it.

“Okay, time for the reveal,” she said, holding a mirror out in front of me.

I took a deep breath and looked up at the reflection staring back at me.

“Oh my God, Grace.”

“I know,” she said.

She’d done an amazing job. It was me, only slightly improved but nothing overstated. There were no harsh black lines or daring eye shadow. I just had subtle highlights here and there to accentuate my cheekbones and eye color.

“Thank you, Grace,” my mother said, giving her a hug.

“So, someone please tell me we’re going to do something with my hair?” I said, looking into the mirror at my long blonde hair pulled to the side.

“Your mom has actually asked to do your hair,” Grace declared with a smile.

I looked over to my mom, who was pulling out a few things from a shopping bag.

“What?” she scoffed. “I do know a thing or two!”

I held up my hands and laughed as she gathered her things and sank down behind me.

Smooth, methodical strokes of the brush moved through my hair, tingling my scalp and relaxing my tense shoulders.

“When I was younger, Grandma used to braid my hair. She could do every kind of braid you can imagine. I’d hold up a mirror and watch her every day as she’d create beautiful patterns in my long hair.”

The tips of her fingers brushed my crown, and I felt her grab several strands.

“By the time you were born, her arthritis had taken over, and she wasn’t able to do many of the things she’d done before. I regret to say that somehow over the years, I’ve forgotten about the simple things.”

“Mom, you’ve kept me alive.”

“Yes, but what have I cost you? Jude said you keep a list. Everything he’s been doing has been to give you a piece of a normal life. I should have done that.”

“You’re doing it now by braiding my hair and having an afternoon with my friend and me,” I said.

Grace smiled from the chair.

“It’s never too late.”

“He really does care for you, doesn’t he?” Mom softly tugged and smoothed strands of my hair, putting them in place.

“He’s her Flynn Rider,” Grace said in a dreamy voice.

“What?” my mother and I said simultaneously.

“Remember when I said you were Rapunzel, sitting up in your tower, just waiting for your prince? Well, he’s your Flynn,” she said with a grin. “And he found you.”

Who knew being a girl could take up so much time?

The three of us spent the entire afternoon primping and preparing for an evening I didn’t know a thing about.

But I knew I wasn’t going solo.

After my hair had been braided into an intricate updo that even Katniss Everdeen would envy, both my mother and Grace pulled out dresses of their own, and they proceeded to get ready. My mother was understated in a simple black cocktail dress. It flattered her small figure and brought life back to her cheeks.

“Mom, you look hot,” I said, grinning.

“Oh, stop. It’s just something I picked up on sale.”

“It’s beautiful.”

Grace wore sapphire blue, and the dress she’d chosen was gorgeous. Strapless with a fitted bodice, it flared at the waist. It was short and showed off her toned legs and monstrous high heels.

“How in the world do you walk in those things?” I asked, eyeing them warily.

“Just a bit of practice. Besides, shoes like these weren’t meant to be walked in. They’re just meant to be admired,” she said with a wink.

By five o’clock, all three of us were dressed and ready…for something.

“Okay,” I said, looking at them. “What do we do now?” I asked.

They both just turned to me, smiling, and then the knock came.

“Right on time,” Grace sang, skipping to the door in her stilettos.

She cracked it open, and I heard murmuring. She turned around and motioned with her head to my mom to join her. Within seconds, they were both exiting through the door with a few winks and grins, leaving me alone in the room.

Another knock came, and before I could answer, it slowly swung open, and Jude appeared.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, stopping dead in his tracks.

He’d dressed up for the secret occasion as well. Until this moment, I’d never seen Jude in anything other than jeans and scrubs. Dressed in head-to-toe black, he oozed sexiness without even trying. He’d also cut his hair. No longer shaggy and overgrown, his hair was now cropped short but left purposely messy in the front.

“You’re breathtaking,” he said as his eyes drank in every detail.