Chapter Four

Indya

After hanging up the phone with Mr. Moore, a wave of excitement washes over me. His wife, Patricia, exudes warmth and kindness, and I can't wait to not only work with her but also to spend time together. We've already planned a salon day to help us bond and feel more comfortable with each other. This afternoon, I have an appointment at the boutique to find the perfect dress, shoes, and accessories for the gala.

It's Friday, and the gala is tomorrow. I'm a bit anxious about finding something that fits my petite frame. At five foot three on a good day, finding clothes that fit well can be a challenge. Despite my efforts to gain weight, my body remains small and delicate. But I've come to accept and embrace my size, hoping the boutique will have something that suits me.

Fortunately, school is out today for teacher preparation, which means I have the day off as well. I spend the morning with Haven, practicing phrases, working on the light switch reaction, coloring, and doing other activities to keep my mind off the upcoming gala. Haven's laughter and enthusiasm are infectious, making the morning fly by.

I've attended charity events for work before, but nothing as grand as this. The theme, "Starry Night," promises an evening of elegance and enchantment. From my research, the venue is set to be a breathtaking display of twinkling lights and celestial decor, perfectly capturing the magic of a starry night. As I prepare for this extraordinary event, I can't help but feel a mix of nerves and excitement, eager to see what the evening holds.

The gala promises to be an unforgettable evening. Multiple speakers will share their insights, and dinner will be served inside the venue.

Afterward, the festivities will move to the gardens, where the hotel has installed dark, clear flooring over the lush bushes and flowers. Twinkling lights beneath the dance floor will create the illusion of dancing among the stars. I can already imagine how breathtaking it will be; just thinking about it takes my breath away.

I decided to bring Haven along to help me pick out the perfect dress, shoes, and accessories from the charming boutique, Dress Me Up. The name itself is so fitting, as that's exactly what they'll be doing for me. As we drive across town, the sound of an incoming call comes through the speakers. I don't need to see the name to know who it is. With a smile, I press the accept button on my steering wheel to connect the call.

"Hey, Silas, how are you?" I ask, glancing in the rearview mirror giving the sign for uncle. Haven's eyes light up with delight, and I can't help but feel a surge of excitement. This day is shaping up to be more special than I could have imagined.

"Hey, little sister! I'm doing great. How are you and my favorite niece?"

"She's your only niece, and she's phenomenal as always. She's in the backseat right now. Hold on a second; let me pull into the gas station so we can switch to video. I think she wants to talk to you; she's bouncing all over her booster seat."

Silas chuckles. "Sure thing, video call me once you're parked and settled. I can't wait to chat with Haven."

I pull into the gas station, and before I even have the car in park, Haven has already undone her seatbelt and is crawling between the seats, plopping down in the passenger seat. The excitement radiates off her in waves; to say she loves her Uncle Silas is an understatement. He might just be her favorite person in the world. When Uncle Silas is around, Mom and Aunt Mar no longer exist.

I press the button that allows the video call to connect, and Silas wastes no time answering. I have the phone set up on the dash so he can see Haven's face and hands, just as he has done on his end. They waste no time catching up and talking about everything and nothing all at once. They chat for fifteen minutes when I tell Haven to get back in her seat and buckle because we need to go, or we will be late for the appointment. She sends all her love to Uncle Silas, and he sends it right back to her.

"Sorry about that, Silas, but I have an appointment at a boutique that I can't be late for; it's for work. But I promise we will call you when we get home. I'm sure Haven won't let me forget."

"It's alright, little sister; I was just calling to check in. We can talk more when you're back home. I have some things I need to discuss with you after I chat a bit more with Haven. So, make sure to call me back, or I'll call you if I don't hear from you by, let's say, six?"

"That works; I'll talk to you in a bit," I say, ending the call. Turning to check that Haven is buckled in correctly, I smile at her eager expression. Ready to go?

Haven nods enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Ready!

We continue our journey to the Dress Me Up boutique, arriving with two minutes to spare. The quaint shop, with its charming window displays and inviting atmosphere, promises a delightful shopping experience. As we step inside, the bell above the door jingles softly, and I feel a sense of anticipation for the day ahead.

The dress shop is absolutely enchanting. When Patricia recommended it, I had braced myself for something overly fancy and intimidating. To my delight, it is the complete opposite.

The shop is housed in a charming two-story brick building, lovingly transformed from an old house into a boutique with character and warmth. The double doors at the entrance open into a cozy alcove, leading to another set of doors. On the right wall, there is a screen and a button with a sign instructing visitors to press for assistance.

I press the button, and a woman appears on the screen, signing as she speaks. Tears welled up in my eyes, and my heart swells with joy. Patricia had sent me here knowing I would appreciate the inclusive atmosphere, especially since Haven was likely to be with me. I sign and speak to the woman, introduce myself and explain that I have an appointment to be dressed for the Starry Night Gala.

Haven watches intently, her eyes wide with curiosity and excitement. This place is more than just a dress shop; it is a haven of understanding and kindness. As we wait, I feel a sense of belonging and anticipation, ready to find the perfect outfit for the magical evening ahead.

The door clicks open, and as we step inside, our eyes dart around, trying to take in everything at once. The shop is a kaleidoscope of colors and styles, with walls lined with dresses, business suits, athletic wear, and even pajama sets. Every size, every shape, and a rainbow of hues were represented. I glance at Haven with a smile, What do you think of the place?

Her eyes were wide with wonder, Heaven.

A petite woman with graying hair, a gentle smile, and Coke bottle glasses approaches us. She signs and speaks simultaneously, explains that she had opened this shop to cater to every woman's needs. She shared that our community, rich with deaf culture, often faced challenges finding clothing that fit well, especially for those who were too tall, too short, or had unique body shapes. Not to mention the language barrier for those who were deaf trying to explain what they needed without having to write everything down. Many had to drive hours to the city, paying outrageous prices for the right outfit.

Determined to change that, she created Dress Me Up, a place where any woman could walk in and feel confident that she would find something perfect for her event or activity. The first floor housed all the clothing items, while the second floor was dedicated to shoes and accessories. She had preserved the warmth and charm of the original house, making it feel like a welcoming family home.

As she speaks, I feel a deep appreciation for her vision and the inclusive atmosphere she had cultivated. Haven is already exploring, her fingers brushing against the fabrics, her face lit with excitement. This place is more than just a boutique; it is a sanctuary of acceptance and beauty, and I know we are in for a special experience.

To be honest, Patricia was right; the boutique did have a homey feel. I feel more relaxed here than I did before we walked in. Haven looks as though she can not wait to see all the dresses and shoes. The excitement is making her little body vibrate, her eyes dart around, checking out all the options.

"I'm afraid to admit I was a little hesitant that you would have anything in my size due to my short stature, but now that I am here, I am confident I will look amazing," I say, my voice filled with awe as I glance around the boutique.

The woman smiles warmly, her eyes twinkling behind her glasses. "We pride ourselves on having something for everyone. Let's find you the perfect dress for the Starry Night Gala."

Haven tugs at my hand, excitedly, Can we start with the dresses?

I nod, feeling a surge of excitement myself. Yes, let's start with the dresses .

As we move through the boutique, the woman guides us to a section filled with elegant gowns. Haven's eyes widen as she takes in the array of colors and styles. I can see her mind racing with possibilities, and I feel a sense of anticipation building within me. This was going to be a day to remember.

"Alright, let's get started! Just so you know, we all sign as we speak here to stay in practice. If you'd prefer, I can just use my voice, let me know. Some people find sign language so fascinating that they end up missing what we're saying."

"I don't mind at all. My roommate and I do the same thing whenever Haven is around so she doesn't feel left out. By the way, I'm Indya—like the country, but spelled differently—and this is my four-year-old daughter,

Haven."

"It's wonderful to meet you both. I'm Maggie, the owner and founder of Dress Me Up. Haven, before we start finding the perfect dress for your mom, would you like a snack?"

Haven turns her head to look at me, asking if it is okay to receive a snack from this woman we have just met; I give her a nod, signing, Of course, you can.

Haven's face is a picture of concentration as she prepares to reply, Yes, ma'am, I would like snack. I no like sushi.

Maggie and I burst into laughter while she explains that there is no sushi available, and she is thinking more along the lines of cookies, fruit, and pastries along with water, juice, or milk to go with them. Haven nods her head so quickly her curls are bouncing everywhere.

Maggie goes and retrieves a cart with all the goodies on it so Haven will have her pick. When she returns, she guides us to a seating area toward the back of the store and then pulls out a measuring tape to see what sizes need to be pulled for me.

"So, Indya, the theme for the gala is Starry Nights, right? Patricia mentioned you'd need the works but also something comfortable since you'll be interpreting for her and standing most of the night. We need to find you a dress that's movable, breathable, and comfortable, and shoes that won't have your feet aching two minutes after you put them on. I'm going to grab some options for you. Don't feel obligated to like or choose any of them; I want you to feel comfortable and confident in whatever you wear. If none of my pick's work, you can look around and we'll pull some of your choices to try on. Does that sound okay?" Maggie says, signing as she speaks to ensure I understand there are no hard feelings if I don't like her selections.

"Of course, Maggie, but I have no doubt you'll choose something magnificent," I reply nervously, glancing at the myriad of options surrounding me.

She walks away in search of options for me to try on, and I sit next to Haven, who is dunking an Oreo into a cup of milk. She turns her head and smiles. She is currently on cloud nine; I have not seen her this excited since we first moved into the apartment, and she got her own room.

Haven, are you going to be honest and help me pick out a dress? Even if you don't think it looks right, let me know. I promise today is not the day that my feelings will be hurt , hoping she will give me her honest opinion on everything.

Promise, mama, Haven says, signing one-handed as the other hand is holding her Oreo.

I straighten as Maggie returns with a rack of gowns, each one more beautiful than the last. Haven's eyes are as wide as saucers, her mouth slightly ajar in awe. I turn to her, I'll be in the room right across from you. Stay on the sofa and enjoy the snacks, okay? She nods eagerly, grabbing a pastry and still nodding her head as she watches the dresses with fascination.

Taking a deep breath, I make my way to the changing room. The first gown Maggie hands me is a dark blue, almost black dress with a halter neck that hugs curves I didn't even realize I had. It's stunning, but I can't see myself wearing it to such a fancy gala. Haven seems to agree; as soon as I open the door, she gives me a thumbs down before I even reach the semicircle of mirrors and the little podium. I smile, appreciating her honesty, and head back to try on the next dress.

Dress after dress, nothing seems quite right. Haven's expressions range from polite interest to outright disapproval, and I start to feel a bit disheartened. Finally, I'm down to the last dress. I saved this one for last, knowing Haven would love it because it looks like it sparkles. Sliding it on, I immediately feel a difference. The v-neckline tea-length dress is made of dark blue silk, stopping between my knees and ankles. Over the top is a layer of tulle covered in sequins that fall to my ankles, shimmering like stars in the night sky. The dress fits perfectly, accentuating my waist, and the flared skirt allows for easy movement. I feel like a princess.

Taking a deep breath, I open the changing room door. Haven's eyes light up, and she claps her hands in delight. I step onto the podium, turning slowly in front of the mirrors. Maggie's eyes twinkle with approval, "You look stunning."

You look like a real-life princess, mama. Beautiful. So beautiful. Get this one. This one, mama. Yes. This one.

My eyes begin to water as I take in Haven's awe. I have never felt like a princess before. The last time I was treated like one was when my parents were alive, and even then, it was so long ago that the memory is faint. I let Maggie know that this is the dress, and she smiles warmly, telling me it's a great choice and that I look stunning in it.

I change back into my own clothes and head up to the second floor for shoes and accessories. Maggie assures me that she has the perfect shoes and jewelry to complete the look, so this part doesn't take long. We sit on another sofa, just as comfortable as the first, waiting in silence and taking in the surroundings while Maggie gathers everything she thinks I'll need.

Maggie soon returns, pushing a cart laden with options. There are two pairs of elegant pumps and a tray sparkling with jewelry. I feel a bit overwhelmed; this feels like too much, especially since I'm not a guest at the gala but just hired help. Maggie stops the cart in front of us, and I glance at Haven. She's smiling so big, her eyes glittering with excitement from all the sparkle on the cart. I gently remind her not to touch anything, and she nods, still caught in the sparkling daze.

Maggie holds out a pair of three-inch Jimmy Choo Romy 85 glitter pumps, "These are comfortable and stylish, perfect for a night of standing and interpreting." And these," she says, lifting a pair of navy-blue pumps, "are a bit more formal but equally comfortable." I try on both pairs, walking a few steps to test them out. Haven watches intently, her eyes following my every move. What do you think?

The silver ones! They look like stars!

I smile, agreeing with Haven's choice. Maggie then shows us the jewelry, each piece more dazzling than the last. There's a delicate necklace with tiny star-shaped charms, a pair of sparkling earrings, and a bracelet that catches the light beautifully.

"These will tie your whole look together," Maggie says, her eyes twinkling. "You'll be the star of the night."

I feel a rush of gratitude and excitement. This experience has been more than just finding an outfit; it's been a journey of feeling seen and valued. I thank Maggie, and we head back downstairs, ready to face the gala with confidence and style.

Maggie takes all the things we have chosen, and we make our way back to the first floor. Before saying goodbye, Maggie asks us to wait just a moment. She brings out a pink box and bends to her knees to be at eye level with Haven. She sits the box down on the floor next to her, so her hands are free to sign.

When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a princess when I grew up. I wanted to find a prince and have him rescue me from everything I had to go through in life. You see, sometimes when we want something so bad, and we wish and wish for that one thing to happen. Eventually, when it does, you don't know how to react to it. When I was about your age, I had to live in a house with people who were not my mommy or daddy. These people were so mean. They were bad people and did bad things, never having to face the consequences of their behavior. Are you understanding what I am telling you, Haven?

Haven nods eagerly, her eyes fixed on Maggie, completely absorbed in the story she's telling. I stand next to my daughter, holding my breath. It feels as if Maggie is recounting my own story, not hers. The emotions start to overwhelm me as I listen with rapt attention, eager to hear the rest.

That's good, dear. Every night I would look outside and wish on stars, and pray, with everything in me, that a prince would come rescue me from these bad people. Cinderella had Prince Charming, Ariel had Prince Eric, Rapunzel had Flynn Ryder, Jasmine had Aladdin, and my favorite princess of all time, Belle, had the Beast. What I am trying to get at is that there are also princesses that didn't need a prince to save them.

Like Moana and Merida, those princesses saved themselves and their people. So, I started thinking, What if I don't need a prince? What if I am the type of princess that can save herself? That is just what I did. One day, when I was around twelve or thirteen, the people who were supposed to take care of me, weren't. I was hungry and thirsty, dirty from being locked in my room, but I had an idea. I had this best friend from school; his name was Martin, and he was no prince, but he was a great friend to have. But I was going to tell him what was happening at home. Because if anyone knew who to go to for help, it was Martin. For my birthday, he brought me a present to school to give me. I had never gotten a present from anyone as long as I can remember, but he gave me one.

She grabs the pink box and opens the lid. Inside, nestled on a purple silk pillow, was the most beautiful crown I have ever seen. This crown bypassed all the ones you see on television, or in the magazines. It was a crown fit for a princess. It looked as if it came from the royal family. The band was sterling silver and covered in what looked like diamonds. When you got to the center of the sparkling band, it arched up going into several points; each section was filled with different jewels that were different shades of purples and blues. It was stunning.

When I opened it and saw this crown that is fit for a princess, I knew I was going to be okay. Now I had the proof that I was indeed a princess, and those bad people could not take it away from me. Martin told me to draw my strength from the crown and I would be able to do anything. So that is what I did. I placed this crown on my head and walked to the principal's office and told them exactly what was going on in that house. They were all arrested and put in jail before I got out of school. I was then placed with a family that was so loving and caring; they helped me grow into the woman I am today. I would like to pass along my princess crown to you, Haven. Because even though we don't know each other very well, I can sense a princess when she is near. And you, my darling, are a complete princess. Remember, draw all your strength from the crown, and you can accomplish anything.

The tears fall down my cheeks as I look at my daughter, who is staring at Maggie in awe; she too, has tears running down her cheeks. Maggie places the crown on the head of curls and does a curtsey before my daughter. No one but Amara and me and my siblings have ever made her feel this special. Maggie swipes a tear from my cheek and hugs me tight, whispering in my ear, "This is only the beginning, child; go and make big things happen."

I nod, unable to speak due to the lump in my throat. As we separate from the hug, Haven taps Maggie on the leg, her small fingers insistent. Maggie turns, giving her full attention to Haven.

Where's Martin?

To say I was shocked at Haven's question would be an understatement. I did not realize that she would understand everything Maggie had said. When I look back toward Maggie, she is beaming.

Well, I married him, of course. We have been married for over fifty years, and we are still going strong. We have another boutique just like this one, except it caters to men. To this day, he still treats me like a princess. As a matter of fact, that is what he calls me. His name for me is Princess.

Thank you for the story. Beautiful. Haven tells her.

Maggie smiles warmly, crouching down to Haven's level. You're very welcome, sweetheart. Stories have a way of showing us the magic inside ourselves.

That makes my heart skip a beat. In the end, she still got what she always wanted. A prince.

Haven beams, her eyes sparkling with joy. I feel a wave of gratitude wash over me, not just for the beautiful dress and accessories, but for this moment of connection and understanding. Maggie has given us more than just clothes; she has given us a memory to cherish.

As we gather our things and prepare to leave, I feel a renewed sense of confidence and excitement for the gala. With Haven by my side and Maggie's kindness in my heart, I know it will be a night to remember.