*Cover designed by @arrowgig*
Clarisse Ricci, a fiery and intelligent Italian American amateur astronomer, knows how fleeting life can be. She's come to observe it firsthand, so she makes sure to experience the joys and sorrows of life with the love...
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Clarisse was getting ready for a date with her boyfriend, Joseph Samuels, a few days later. She was dressed but putting on her blue Jessica Simpson Haneh pumps when Isabelle entered her bedroom. She came over and rested her hands on her daughter's shoulders.
"How's it going in here?" she asked.
Isabelle then brushed Clarisse's curls away from her face and allowed her gaze to sweep over her daughter's curvy figure, covered by a blue velvety dress.
"It's fine," Clarisse said, applying bright red lipstick to her mouth before turning to her mother. "Do you have what I asked for?"
Isabelle nodded. She then reached into her pocket to retrieve a set of gleaming silver keys and deposited them into Clarisse's open hand. Since they had been dating for so long, Clarisse had asked her mother to make a copy of their house key for Joseph. It would prevent him from sneaking into the house through Clarisse's bedroom window and waking everyone up at night when he would visit his girlfriend.
"Thanks, mom. He'll love this," Clarisse grinned.
Isabelle nodded and straightened to her full height.
"Now, you must tell me 24 hours in advance if you want him to come over."
"Okay."
"Good," Isabelle said, hugging her. "What time is Joseph picking you up?"
Clarisse glanced at the clock on her oak nightstand, which read 5:20. Their reservation wasn't until 7:30. But they wanted to leave early and beat the traffic.
"5:30," she said, rearranging eyeshadow palettes, lipstick tubes, blush pad, foundation, and brushes in their places on her vanity.
"Are you looking forward to the Sundial?" Isabelle replied, raising her eyebrows. She had recommended it to Joseph, and Clarisse agreed since she loved Atlanta during the holidays.
"Oh, am I ever!" Clarisse squealed.
She went to her mirror to spray perfume on her neck and wrists, making a light, floral scent float toward Isabelle's nose.
"Sweetheart, stop fussing. You look great," she said.
She sat there, watching her daughter continue to mess with her appearance. But the words caused Clarisse to stop and look at her.
"No, I look perfect."
A pang of sadness came from Isabelle's chest at the simple statement.
"That reminds me of your Papà," she said.
"And it makes my heart ache when you tell me something like that," Clarisse replied as her eyes became misty.
In response, Isabelle wrapped her slender arms around Clarisse's shoulders, and they stayed like that until Isabelle pulled back, looking down at her.
