Chapter 1

((Please tell me what you think of this, and whether I should continue. :) ))

"Mandy Liz Evans, don't tell me you've never tried this before!"

I smooth my skirt, a desperate sigh escaping my lungs. It is five in the afternoon, and my stomach is churning. Perhaps the reason to that is that I haven't eaten since one o'clock, so my body is desperate for food. But she doesn't seem to care. For if this were any other day, I would have already had dinner...or at least I'd be having it this very moment. Not today, though. Because of her presence. Miss Mary Sarah Ashton, with her forever fake smile, is sitting right across me, wearing one of her very-expensive-made-in-France dresses, as she often refers to them. Everything about her is very-expensive-made-in-France, as a matter of fact. Her golden hair, in a neat, but sophisticated bun, is decorated with a light pink ribbon; slightly childish, if you ask me. Her face seems almost plastic, just like at a porcelain doll, with no obvious flaws. That is the most annoying part of her to me. That and her perfect, slim figure, her tiny waist(she doesn't even require a corset) and bright blue eyes. I'd give her less than 120 Ibs. She seems even tinier when standing next to me.

Not that I am fat. When put into an appropriate dress, I can look almost as thin as Mary. But there are some areas where I'd like to be a bit...well...skinnier. Like, my waist. It is 30 inches-gigantic when compared to Mary's 18 1/2-although a corset helps in making it 25. Still, I am not satisfied. Next, my legs. Well, they could pass. Longish and rather elegant, just a bit overly thick. And last but not least, my butt. Big...not well shaped...and, to simplify, just plain ugly. Yes, I'd definitely like some changes there.

But I am not FAT. Just...plump. And a bit...clumsy looking. Like almost all plump persons with my personality. That means proud, stubborn, and...well, clumsy!

And of course, right now the most annoying to me is the fact she is staring at me, batting her long eyelashes, and for the twentieth time this afternoon asking me the same question.

"You can't say you've never tried it, Mandy Liz...or haven't you really?"

I mean, really. As if it isn't enough she is postponing my dinner, she keeps doing her best not to be liked. And not to make me feel good. Or can a thousand questions concerning whether you've tried the newest trends(of which some I've never heard of!) make you feel good? At this very moment, she is asking me whether I've tried wearing one of those posh dresses with an incredibly stiff corset(as if anything is stiff to her...) that really makes you look your best...
And of course, it costs only 100 dollars. ONLY! I mean, why is she asking at all? I could never afford something like that. Not here in Texas. There even aren't such dresses in Texas.
But of course, I could never say something like that to her. It would make me feel even worse and even more inferior to her. So, with a polite smile, almost as fake as hers, I shake my head.

"No...our house really is far away from the town, and minding all the work that needs to be done here, I hardly think of paying a visit to the local store."

Well. Not that it was any better than telling the actual state of things. Still, it felt better. It made me look like a hardworking, responsible woman, not like a girl who can barely afford decent living. And who is unmarried at 25.

Yes, right. I am the talk of every gossip party in the county. Not really in the county, but in the vicinity of Juarezville. Not yet married, and she's twenty-five. A spinster, she's to be a spinster...Needless to say, they blab about my looks(my weight would be a more appropriate word); Just look at her waist...she's almost fat and she's not going to find a husband until she gets thinner...and that will never happen....
I've never actually heard them discuss my weight. But I am SURE they do it...a lot. I mean, even I see I'm fat. How wouldn't they? No; not fat. PLUMP. But sometimes it is really heard not to confuse the two terms. Two completely separate terms. Because plump doesn't mean fat.

"Oh, you silly thing! Why don't you let Harry do some work? You do deserve a trip just for yourself!"
HARRY?

She has just said 'Harry' and 'work' in the same sentence! Without 'no' or 'impossible'?
All right. She has an obvious flaw. The woman is definitely NOT fair minded.
Harry, my younger brother, could never do some work. He could never do any work. Oh, not because he is physically unable to...but because he simply doesn't want to. Don't think I'm a weak woman. I can make any man or woman do as I say in my house. But I'd never send Harry to work...again. I've tried it once...and it ended up with me hunting for our cattle in the open field, using reverend Finley's old buggy. Because Harry had somehow broken ours. After some thinking, I decided it is better to do all the work by myself than having my farm completely ruined.

"I can't send Harry to work, Mary Sarah." I decide to use her full name, because it annoys me extremely to hear her 'Mandy Liz' me for all the time. Who knows, perhaps we do have something in common, and she hates to hear her first and middle name together as well.

Obviously not, because she continues with the same expression on her plastic face.
"Why not? He is the man here, dear, isn't he?"

This angers me a great deal. Why would men have to take care of women? Not that I'd mind having someone take care of me once. But seriously, why are women considered weaker? I am sure that, if I really wanted, I could handle Harry and a bunch of his friends.

But I'm not a regular woman. I'm Mandy Evans, the spinster-to-be. The fat...plump spinster-to-be. So I suppose I don't count.

I'm not about to let Mary win this argument, though.
"Harry may be a man, but he is a very lazy man, and I don't intend to let my farm go to waste because a man should be the one working. And to buy a new dress."
She frowns, and I welcome the change of her face, even if it is a negative one. Thank God, she's human! But as she shifts on the crimson sofa, all emotion disappears again.

"I have a most perfect idea! In England, you see, we go to balls every now and then."
My face turns bright red. Do I sincerely look as if I don't ever go to balls? Actually I don't go. But do I really look that way? And does she think balls aren't ever held here in Texas?

"...and I'd heard there is one being held in the theatre in Juarezville...it should've been held in the town hall...but there isn't enough space..." A disapproving scowl crosses her face. Yes, dear Mary. Not every town hall is like London's one. Or is that a city hall?

„One way or the other, everyone is going to be there. So…I was thinking…why don't we drop by as well?“

My head bolts up, and I straighten my back(a rather painful move, as I will realize later). What? Me? At a ball? Is she serious?

„Harry could be alone for one evening…and no actual work is done then, isn't it?“
She has a point there. But still. Why would I ever go to a ball? To embarrass myself because no man would be insane(or blind) enough to dance with me? And so everyone could talk about me…gossip me…Oh, the spinster-to-be is trying to find a husband…I shudder at the thought. Of being gossiped and not danced with, I mean. Not of finding a husband.

„Mary,“ I slowly start, „I really don't think that's a good idea…“
„Oh!“ She waves her hand, „Mandy Liz, you are an…attractive woman. The right dress can make you look pretty. Why wouldn't you have some fun attending a social gathering, such as this ball?“

I didn't miss the pause before 'attractive', but I don't really mind it now. I have more important things going on in my mind.
„That's right! But I have nothing to wear…“
„That would be my concern.“ Mary rises happily from the sofa, an almost genuine smile on her stiff face. Perhaps she is happy because she'll be coming along too. She certainly isn't happy for me.
„I am going to borrow you the perfect dress. And do your hair and your face and everything…“ She turns away from the window, where she was looking at the sunset, „Why, I am going to make you just beautiful.“

As you see, saying 'no' is completely out of question.

Just as avoiding embarrassment. Because it is the same thing.