Silver

“Another day, another mess,” sighed Katherine, stooping to vacuum what was left of her daughter’s snack. Some days were like this, when she wondered if this was all her life was, an unpaid maid.

Glancing around the room, she could see that her duties were just beginning. Her daughter’s school books littered the sofa. The pink blanket her grandmother had crocheted for her for her wedding shower lay on the floor. Her husband’s brief case and laptop stood open on the kitchen table, all of which was buried in an avalanche of papers. Dirty dishes filled the sink.

The cat had barfed in the middle of the room.

“Perfect,” Katherine muttered and went in search of the rug cleaner and a paper towel. Half-way to the cleaning cupboard the telephone rang.

“Hi Hon.” Her husband Jack’s rich baritone could always soothe the savage Katherine. Of course, his seemingly perpetual positive attitude helped immensely. “I forgot my brief case and my laptop!” he laughed. “George thinks I’m trying to get out of giving that presentation next week, as if I’d let all that work go to waste!”

George was Jack’s boss, technically, but he was also his friend. The two golfed together in the summer and were on a bowling team together in the winter. “The Knocking Ten-Pins” was the official bowling team name, but “Ten-Pins” was all that would fit on their shirts, much to George’s dismay. He’d been so impressed with himself, using a play on “Rocking” using “Knocking” instead. He hadn’t taken into account the length of the name.

Katherine laughed half-heartedly at Jack’s absent-mindedness.

“Anyway,” Jack continued, “short-notice, but George gave us tickets to the Civic Theater tonight. I know how you like to see those productions…and free tickets. Didn’t you say Karen is staying at Amy’s tonight?”

Katherine mentally went through her to-do list before deciding to scrap it until tomorrow. What was one more day of filth? “Yes, Karen is staying at Amy’s tonight.”

Amy had been Karen’s best friend since they were five. Now both ten years old, they’d literally been friends for half their lives. Each girl was as welcome in the other’s home as she was in her own and often treated one another’s houses the same. Katherine thanked her lucky stars that the girls would be messing up her friend’s house tonight.

“That sounds great honey,” Katherine answered finally.

“Okay, gotta run. Seeyoulaterloveyabye.” Jack hung up after his customary run-on goodbye.
Now that Katherine had plans for the evening that involved more than putting on sweats and catching up on Survivor that left her with a new task -- finding something appropriate to wear tonight --more importantly, something appropriate that fit.

She hated to admit it, but a night out was still a novel experience in her life. She knew when Karen was a baby that she’d have few opportunities to break out of the mother role, but she hadn’t realized that this lack of a social life would extend into Karen’s pre-pubescent years.

Not that Jack hadn’t tried to get her to go out. He’d tried often but eventually grew too discouraged by Katherine’s many excuses to continue asking her regularly. Katherine made another mental note to start asking Jack out. They were in a rut and it was her fault.

“Civic Theater attire,” mumbled Katherine, peering into her closet. “Maybe the red dress.”

She pulled out the knee-length sheath and held it in front of her. The last time she’d worn it, she’d gone to her cousin’s wedding. So that made it, she tried to calculate, five years old. It was still in style, which was the nice thing about having classic taste in clothing. She sucked in her breath and checked the size. A twelve. She threw the dress on the bed. There was no way she was fitting into that one.

“Black is good,” Katherine told herself confidently as she grabbed the flowing black blouse and pants set. This one was newer, bought in the last two years. She’d bought it for a friend’s funeral.

The thought forced Katherine to sit on the bed. “Mary.”

Mary had been younger than Katherine by three years. She’d been the kind of friend that made you feel like you were a great mother even though deep-down you knew you were screwing your kid up royally. Mary was upbeat, and real.

Mary was dead. Six months after her breast cancer diagnosis and she was gone. Mary had told Katherine that she never did those breast self-exams that the doctors recommended because she’d been embarrassed about touching her own body, even in a medical way. Mary had been brought up in a strict Lutheran home with a pastor for a father and a severely repressed mother. Katherine remembered how Mary had chuckled bitterly as she mentioned her embarrassment. “Guess I should have copped a feel after all.”

A tear slipped down her cheek as Katherine checked the tag. This one would still fit. It was time for this outfit to see some happiness anyway.

Later, black outfit fitting perfectly and accessorized with her best jewelry, Katherine stood in front of the bathroom mirror applying some subtle makeup.

“What on Earth is that?” Katherine asked her reflection, catching sight of a small hint of silver in her black mane.

A grey hair. Her first.

A giggle escaped her. Mary would have loved to hear that Katherine got her first grey hair the day she’d been thinking of her. Mary would have teased Katherine mercilessly.

Katherine decided to wear her silver proudly, if only for tonight, for Mary.

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This is my own fictitious take on the Blog Exchange prompt of Gold and/or Silver since I wasn't ever able to connect with my Blog Exchange partner this month! Check out what the other participants wrote here.