1. The Pink Ladies

The Pink Ladies

Laughter echoed up the staircase as Hadley stared at herself in the mirror. She tried to smooth her golden hair, but her fingers kept getting stuck in the knots. Despite her best efforts, she remained a twelve-year-old twig, with pale skin and questionable fashion. What she lacked in friendships she made up for with her relationship with her mom. Her mom, who turned their living room into Studio 54 every Friday, was currently downstairs dancing and gossiping with a group of free-spirited women. Hadley, who couldn't wait to join her, abandoned the mirror and ran down the stairs, waving at the women with a toothy smile.

She grabbed a wide rimmed martini glass from the kitchen, filling it with milk before she slid onto the couch. As she sat, she focused intently on every move the women made while dancing, noticing they never spilled a drop from their martini glasses regardless of twirls and hops. Hadley on the other hand spilled half of her milk last Friday when she was tucking her feet underneath herself on the couch. Her mom had laughed, making a joke about how Hadley had one too many before quickly cleaning up the spill with a smile and a wink.

Tonight, Hadley held her glass carefully while she made mental notes of hip sways and sophisticated phrases to practice later. Her hand covered a laugh when Christine and Francie tried to bump their hips to the beat but instead Christine bumped too hard and Francie lost her footing, sending her three steps backwards. When Francie steadied herself, she burst into a deep laugh that made Hadley giggle even louder. She was transfixed by the way the ladies finished each other's sentences during a story and the way they held hands and sang into each other's faces during their favorite songs. Hadley absorbed these moments, committing them to memory so that when she had her own friends she'd know exactly what to do.

Hadley shifted her focus to her mom's best friend, Jeanine. She had a heart-shaped face with mossy eyes, all framed perfectly by loose auburn curls. She watched Jeanine push up the sleeves of her maxi dress and turn up the radio. Jeanine's dress was stamped with bold yellow flowers that looked to be waving in the wind as her moves grew bolder. Almost immediately all the women were dancing to Night Fever by the Bee Gees. They moved their hips, with one arm swaying in the air while their other held tight to the drinks they just refilled.

Jeanine and Christine twirled, their dresses flaring, their heads tilted back so their laughter floated right up to the ceiling. Hadley's mom, breathless and a little pale, took a break from dancing to drop onto the couch next to her. There was a haze to her mom's eyes that Hadley didn't understand. She worried for a moment as she set her faux milk martini on the end table, but then her mom wrapped an arm around her shoulders and they tilted their heads together. Hadley melted against her mother with a smile and trailed her fingers through her mom's hair, which felt brittle, not like the silkiness she was used to. A series of thoughts distracted Hadley as she tried to figure out what could've caused her mom's perfect hair to change. She settled on the idea that her mom probably bought a cheap shampoo from either the clearance section at Almac's Supermarket or maybe even the Dollar Tree.

What Hadley didn't yet know was that her mom, Elizabeth Martin, a 36-year-old woman with a jaw dropping physique and an unparalleled kindness, was recently met with the unfortunate fate of a stage 4 lung cancer diagnosis. The rarely discussed outcome of smoking for the past fifteen years. Since Hadley's mom stayed home and didn't work, the sole family income came from her father, Michael. He was employed by a large construction company in the center of town. After ten years of employment, it became obvious that he would never earn a foreman label or senior position, however his general labor skills kept him busy with a variety of assignments. Hadley never understood much about what her father did for work, only that he was really handy around the house. They maintained a relatively frugal lifestyle. When her parents found out about her mom's cancer, her father sat down and figured out a plan to cover the treatment copays. A plan which Hadley's mom turned down, knowing her likelihood of survival was extremely low. Hadley never knew that treatment was even an option. By the time she was told, it was explained that her mom didn't want to live like she was dying, she just wanted to live. Hadley watched her mom smoke, drink, and socialize. She can't be that sick, she seems fine. The only thing that changed in her mom's life was the amount of time she spent resting, which was at least 14 hours a day.

When her mom wasn't resting, and when it wasn't Friday night, she always seemed to keep busy. She would flutter gracefully from laundry to mopping to washing dishes, never leaving something for later. One day later wouldn't come, and she wasn't the type to leave behind a mess. Each day she made sure the house was tidy, the pantry stocked, the cookies baked, and Hadley's father happy. She worked through her chores while Hadley was at school, so that she would be ready to bond with her after a quick afternoon nap.

Even while doing housework, Hadley's mom always wore a form-fitted dress and maintained perfectly pinned hair. Her friend, Jeanine, liked to tease her and call her a perfectionist, but she'd waved her off, knowing she was simply doing what was necessary to keep her husband happy. Hadley, on the other hand, adored her perfect mother, often imagining she was the main character, Sandy, from the popular movie of the year, Grease. She didn't think her dad would have made a great Danny Zuko, because unless she focused on flaws, she had a hard time drawing any similarities. Her mom, however, was the ideal leading lady and would look amazing in a tight black leather outfit and teased up hair. That's why her mom smoked, she figured, because Sandy did and anyone who was anyone seemed to.

Would Hadley take up smoking when she was older? She thought she might, because she idolized her mom. She didn't understand, yet, that her mom was dying from the habit.

Gimme that night fever, night fever…

we know how to show it

Hadley refocused on her mom's friends, who she dubbed The Pink Ladies. Even though they never showed up wearing tight pants and pink satin jackets, they could turn the heads of even the politest of men with their ankle length brightly patterned dresses and perfectly painted faces. Hadley smiled as she watched them sing to each other with a carefree energy, their voices louder than intended. Her mom started humming along gently into her ear. She melted against her mom, her smile softening as she relaxed to her mom's beautifully perfect pitch, despite the out-of-tune singing surrounding them.

"Hadley Ann," her mom finally said in her sing-song voice. "Don't you think it's about time for my little girl to get some sleep?"

I'm not a little girl. Hadley kept this thought to herself. She hated to leave the fun but always listened to her mom. She hopped off the couch, smiled at her mom, and waved to the dancing queens. She wondered if one day she would look just as beautiful in the kelly green and teal patterned dress that currently hugged her mother's curves. Lost in thought, Hadley snuck off to her parents' bedroom instead of her own. Her dad was down the road at a local bar with his coworkers, so she had the second floor to herself.

Their bedroom seemed spacious compared to her own, which barely fit a twin sized bed and dresser. The walls in her parents' room were painted a light blue and the furniture coffee colored. Hadley walked over to her parent's large wedding portrait, which was displayed on the side wall in an ornate gold-tone frame. They're so young.

She studied the way her mom's shiny hair was twisted into a voluminous low bun and how it drew focus to the cerulean sparkle of her mom's eyes. She stared at how the copper and bronze makeup brightened her mom's olive skin and the way it all popped beautifully against the bright white of her satin long sleeved wedding gown. Wow.

Hadley's eyes trailed to the other pictures framed on the wall. On the right was a smaller framed photo of her mom's parents, who lived in southern California. She missed them. They rarely got to see each other because of how expensive cross country plane tickets were. Hadley looked like her nonna, with the same light features. She frowned as she looked at how handsome her grandfather once was. I wish I was that tan. Mom looks so much like him, except for her eyes. We both have Nonna's eyes. Hadley smiled and shifted her gaze. Her father's parents were framed to the left of the wedding portrait. Grandma and Grandpa kinda look alike, Hadley giggled. Her father's parents lived in the Midwest but they both passed away before she was old enough to know them, but based on the photos they looked as ordinary as her father, with skin neither light nor dark and muted brown eyes the same color as their thin hair.

Hadley walked over to the Victorian vanity set that sat across from the king-sized bed. I wonder if Dad would build me one for my room. It had a tarnished silver mirror with ornamental detailing throughout. She pulled out the plush stool, petting the soft white fabric, before kneeling gently on it. Staring at herself in the mirror, she pretended she was a Pink Lady. "Turn up the beat, Jeanine," Hadley said, drawing out the vowels. She sipped an imaginary martini and with great theatrics said, "You'll never guess what Bruce said last week." Her shoulders moved one at a time, forward and backwards, as she attempted to look fancy. Hadley giggled at the ridiculousness.

Hadley's joy faded as she paused to really evaluate herself. She hated her pale skin and her string bean legs with knobby knees seemed pathetic. No way was Mom ever this awkward. Hadley shrugged at her reflection. At least my hair is pretty. She imagined if her mom let her wear makeup or use a curling iron, she would look more like Sandy. While most girls coveted bright blue eyes, Hadley thought hers paired predictably with her flaxen hair. Boring. When she looked at her mom, she saw the same sky blue, but when juxtaposed by her olive skin and dark hair, it was truly stunning.

Not quite the Pink Lady, Hadley thought of herself, stepping down from the cushioned stool. But maybe one day; I can't wait to grow up.