190 - Hair and Makeup
190 - Hair and Makeup
Trust me, you’ll find the right dress. Mine literally just appeared as we were searching for my dream dress. - Camille
Priscilla left the room and went down to the bar where her dad and other moms were sitting. Seeing his daughter approaching him, Molly stood up and opened his arms. She stepped into the arms that had held her and protected her from the day she was born.
He kissed the top of her head before resting his chin on top of her brown hair. She had stopped coloring it during her first pregnancy and had never started again. Her therapy helped her work through the feelings of not belonging to her family because she was different. She also changed her contacts to clear, allowing her natural brown eyes to be seen.
Taz laughed and Priscilla smiled as the older woman declared, “I will pay you extra if you keep a damned photographer on her all fucking day!”
Everyone in the bar laughed at the MMA fighter as she held her second granddaughter. When her career was just starting to take off, Priscilla had followed Taz around as a starstruck fangirl, constantly taking her picture for social media. At the time, she was not used to the attention, and it made her uncomfortable. Now with multiple championships under her large leather and metal plate belts, it had just become a running joke.
Kenny, employee number three for J & L Publicity and Marketing, chuckled behind Priscilla. “I’m about to head over to the house to get pictures of the grooms. Charlotte and Vi are staying here and I’m sure that they will annoy the hell out of my boss lady.”
“Probably,” Priscilla muttered, smirking.
“Oh, good, you’re still here,” Charlotte said as she stepped into the bar carrying the white garment bag with Priscilla’s wedding dress in it. “I want to hang this in the greenhouse for some pictures. Toad’s sending a prospect out there with a ladder.”
“The solar library part?” Kenny asked as he followed Charlotte.
“Solarium!” Priscilla growled. “It’s called a solarium!”
Down the hall, Charlotte laughed at something that Kenny said. Molly chuckled as his daughter continued to grumble about her employee and the solarium. He kissed the top of her head and then turned her and nudged her towards Michaela.
“Go get ready to get married to all your men.”
Turning around, she hugged him one more time, “I love you, daddy.”
“I love you, too, little pretty.” He kissed her temple, “Go on, now.”
Walking away, she heard her dad sniffle, and someone patted him on the back. As big and bad as he was, he was still very much a girl dad. Priscilla and Michaela both knew that he would sit down at the bar and pull out the pink ribbon from Becks’ funeral. It was supposed to go in his beard, but Tobias had gotten a lollipop stuck in Molly’s beard the night before and it had to be cut off. Since then, he had carried the ribbon in his pocket.
The first thing that she did when they got back to the room was to check on the sleeping infant in the hanging crib. Emma Lilly lay on her back with her arms raised by her head. She wore a winter onesie with little snowmen on a blue background. She was lighter than her sister and at first, they were not certain who her father was. As her tightly curled hair started to grow, it became obvious.
“She’s starting to look like her father,” Michaela observed. “Just like Rowan is starting to look like his.”
Priscilla chuckled. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure that he’s going to be short and stocky just like his daddy. We thought that Emma was Geo’s, but his Italian hair is not this curly.”
“I guess there will have to be one more?” Michaela teased, and she noticed that her daughter remained quiet and did not look at her. “Priscilla?”
“Ever hear of Irish Twins?”
“Have you taken a test?”
“No, and I’m not until after our cruise. And I’ll thank you not to say anything because then they will worry and will try to keep me here and damn it, I want to be an international traveler.”
Michalea kissed her forehead, “Stay away from Nessie and Tammy.”
“They already know,” Priscilla admitted. “It’s keeping dad from figuring it out that’s going to be the hard part.”
She laughed as she guided her daughter to the stylist’s chair that had been brought up earlier. “Good luck with that.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
As Micheala set up her workstation, Priscilla pulled up a movie on the TV. Settling on a classic, Mrs. Doubtfire began to play on the screen. After working some product into the shoulder length hair, Michaela combed it, sectioned it, and then rolled it with the curlers she had plugged up while Priscilla was going through her treasure chest.
Charlotte arrived and hung the dress on the closet door. She then took pictures of the bride and her mothers and friends as they wandered in and out.
Halfway through Micheala doing Priscilla’s makeup, Emma woke up. Before she could get out of the chair, her door opened and Camille walked in. Nudging her friend back into her seat, the blonde made her way over to the crib.
Using the nearby changing table, she changed the diaper and slipped the infant into a new onesie. Handing her over to her mother, Camille sat in the rocker and waited for her turn to get her hair and makeup done. Priscilla positioned the baby to nurse without ever looking at what she was doing.
“So, when you told my dad,” Camille started and Priscilla laughed, “that you wanted to do a wedding, how excited was he?”
“Imagine telling your kids that there will be three Christmases this year.”
Camille smiled, “Just a little excited.”
“And that there will be multiple cakes.”
“Okay, very excited.”
“And none of the cakes have any peppers or received a Scoville rating,” Michaela smirked.
“My mom fucking loved that cake,” Camille laughed.
“So did Momma Von,” Priscilla pointed out.
“Close your eyes,” Michaela ordered as she prepared to cover Priscilla’s face with the setting spray.
Once her face was complete, except for lipstick, she moved to the rolling cart to get her brushes and other tools. She teased and styled the long brown hair before placing the tiara on the bride’s head. With a few Bobby pins and a few more spritzes of hair spray, she declared her masterpiece complete. Except for lipstick.
“You look better with your natural hair and eyes,” Camille told her friend as she stood up. “Okay, the natural eyes part sounds a little weird.”
Priscilla and Michaela both laughed as Camille moved into the chair.
“My men like them,” Priscilla smirked as she plopped down on her bed, “my natural eyes, that is.”
Thirty minutes later, Micheala and Tammy were helping Priscilla step into the floor-length white dress with an ombre purple on the lower half of the skirt. It had short cap sleeves and a sweetheart neckline that was accentuated by the silver necklaces with clear and purple gemstones.