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Alessandra couldn’t count on both hands how many weddings she had been to. All of her college friends were engaged or married, living beautiful lives on social media, large houses and perfect photos, a life only Alessandra could imagine, one she could dive into when she was on her phone a little too long. She was happy, really, but she would be lying if she said she wanted the life she had now, sitting alone at a wedding table around people she didn’t know or knew so long ago they had completely changed. She wondered if she changed, if they saw her as someone new, or if they looked at her with the same pity the day she graduated college with an early childhood teaching degree and a baby bump so large the graduation gown couldn’t cover it.
She was never ashamed of her daughter. Harloh was the best thing to ever happen to her, a physical form of all of her love, her very own heart exploring the world with childlike wonder. Something Alessandra had seen taken away too many times, from students, to friends, to herself. She had gotten pregnant her last year of college, twenty four and with a not so stable boyfriend. He was gone, fled from her when she gave the news like he was running from a felony. That was when it became the two of them, Alessandra and Harloh against the world, experiencing things new or seeing old things with a new wonder.
The shame she never felt, others tried to throw at her. Alessandra had been what many would call gifted, wonderful grades, focused on her teaching goal to match her mother and grandmother, and she was loved on campus. Until the news broke, spreading like wildfire, suddenly the girl who was seen as pure as an angel was viewed as tainted. Her ex boyfriend, Eren, had told everyone, mocking her for being able to keep every part of her life together but her relationship with him. He wasn’t man of the year, Eren was a walking red flag, a womanizer, a partier, and a selfish man. The allure of his brown hair and green eyes stopped being enough after that day. He wasn’t loving her, or being polite enough to ignore him, he was casting stones at her, happily handing them to others so they could join in.
It wasn’t spite that fueled her graduation, nor pride, but a hope for her daughter to grow up in a better world. Alessandra’s mom was a single mother, they often survived off of food stamps, financial aid from her family, and a silent shame they both carried. Even at twenty eight, Alessandra can remember the first time she worried about money. Athe power was shut off when she got home, her mom’s ex husband slumped on the couch, relaxing like he didn’t ruin her mother’s credit for fifteen years, dragging them through a poverty filled life in an unforgiving world. Alessandra was going to break that cycle, if not for herself, but for Harloh.
Maybe that was why the weddings upset her. She was young, she had time for love, but the extravagance of it all. The forty thousand dollars of decorations, the cars so expensive they could purchase a small home, thousands on a dress that was worn once and even changed out of for the after party. She didn’t envy them, she just couldn’t understand that life. This was foreign to her, expensive suits that could pay her rent while she spent hours filled with embarrassment shuffling through her closet to find the most expensive piece in her collection. Expensive to her, at least, some people had already turned their nose up at her satin pink, silk dress. Her hair was pinned partially up, blonde curls falling to hide the clip in her hair, ringlet bangs framing her face. The makeup she wore was light, an attempt of the new popular “trying without trying” look, with a shimmer on the middle and inner corner of her eyes, pink dusted across the outer edge to match her blush, and dark mascara to finish the look, allowing her green eyes to pop between the dark, extended lashes.
To her, Harloh was prettier than any bride could be. She was invited to be a flower girl, Alessandra had to budget for the dress, but she didn’t mind, anything for her little girl. The dress was sage green, matching the colors of the wedding and the wedding party. The skirt was high in the front, showing her bruised knees from playing outside with the New York neighbor kids, a green sage bow on the back followed by a train of the same color. A sheer, white piece of lace was draped across the dress, small white fabric flowers sown onto random parts of the dress to accent the piece and pull it all together.
She can still remember the first time her daughter put it on, the way she twirled, listing off every Disney princess she could think of before landing on Tiana, insisting her brown curls that she got from mom and dad, made her even closer to the princess herself. Getting her to take off the dress to protect it for the wedding was almost a battle, Alessandra only winning by saying for Halloween she could be Tiana, since the year before she was Belle, and the year before, when her hair was more blonde, Rapunzel. Harloh insisted she was a princess, writing in her scribbly, four year old handwriting on every preschool worksheet that when she grew up she’d be a princess.
Alessandra, although she knew it was almost futile, wanted it for her. The way Harloh’s eyes lit up whenever she saw the way princesses lived in movies. To compromise, instead of telling her the real world was cruel, Alessandra reminded her that she didn’t need a prince to be a princess. She thought she was helping, teaching her independence early on. She had no idea how wrong she was.
As her eyes scanned the crowd, looking for the little bouncing curls and sage green dress, she pushed down the thoughts of how useless all of this was, the waste of money, the ego that surrounded the people who attended, the crisp clothes and snarky attitudes. She wanted to be there and be supportive, for Harloh, and her old roommate Anna. It wasn’t any of their faults they were dealt good hands and Alessandra wasn’t. Maybe one day, just maybe, she could be like them, spending money without a care because there would always be more. But that day wasn’t today.
Her eyes landed on her daughter, dancing happily offbeat to a song the live band was playing. Lifting her arms and twirling, accepting the stares the adults gave her. The difference was, their stares were filled with appreciation. The stares Alessandra got were stripping her of humanity, if she had any to them to begin with. Harloh was too young to know the structure of the world, how badly the poor and middle class were treated, how badly women were looked down upon when they couldn’t make money.
She pushed the thoughts down again, focusing om Harloh, a smile spreading across her face. She was an optimist, truly, but she was in a room that was constantly reminding her that she wasn’t enough, or that she wasn’t doing enough. They looked at Alessandra with pity and shame, but Harloh was seen with love filled eyes and adoration. So, Alessandra focused on that. The lack of awareness and shame her daughter had for how cruel the outside world was. She tilted her head to the side, doing her best to take in the moment, etch it into her brain like stone. Harloh was glowing, giggling, and moving without a fear in the world. Harloh was still young enough to feel safe enough to be herself.
As Alessandra memorized the moment, the photograph in her mind was ruined as a man slowly approached her. His suit was clearly expensive, as well as the ring he wore on his finger and the watch that partially shown beneath his sleeve. The man was tall, maybe six foot, with broad shoulders and large arms. He made Harloh look somehow even smaller, and part of Alessandra was already panicked. She knew the evil in the world. She was already gripping the table to stand up before the man lowered himself, the best he could, to her height, and extended a hand.
The man, whoever he was, was the first person to notice Harloh as more than mere entertainment. He was acknowledging her, her personality. Harloh’s small and was swallowed in his when she accepted it, slowly starting to bow before the man bowed, mouthing words only Alessandra could possibly make out. Something about how a gentleman always bows, not the lady. Harloh’s face was priceless, the joy in her eyes as they took each other’s hands and began to dance. She barely reached the man’s mid thigh in height, so he stayed lowered to her level, letting her guide him offbeat to the music.
Alessandra didn’t notice the smile she had until her daughter beamed at her before the man twirled her. The two were speaking, probably about Harloh’s new favorite movie, but the man listened and replied. He cared, and if he didn’t, he was good at faking it. For many songs they moved together, the man moving so Harloh could take up more of the dance floor and ushering people back so they could have more room for her to dance. The way he let her lead was sweet, watching her move from ballroom to ballet spins from the classes Alessandra had been paying for.
Harloh loved dancing, especially ballet, so having someone who wasn’t her mother cheer her on and tell her how talented she was must have felt good. Even if the movements didn’t match the upbeat rhythm to the music, she continued, with a prideful smile on her face, and looking back each time she detached from the man to make sure he was still there. And he always was, hand out, ready for the little girl to pull him back in when she was done with her solo. Five or six songs passed, maybe even seven, Alessandra got caught up in watching too long, entranced by the man and her daughter stealing the spotlight from her old roommate, Anna, and her new husband. Even Anna was smiling, her gown glittering as she danced to the side.
How could Alessandra ever regret Harloh when this is what she gets to see daily? The hundred plus people, dancing or drunk, maybe both, all had their eyes glued on her. Their smiles were the first genuine ones Alessandra had seen all night. For a moment, the room wasn’t made to be perfect, but rather, happy, accepting the unexpected. The man spin her around and around, her little hand clinging to his finger as she giggled louder than the music, her chocolate curls bouncing as she jumped.
The thought of dating hadn’t occurred to her in years. Not because Eren was who he was or the harassment at school her last year. She was young, pretty, and so selfless many called her naive, so hopeful she was ridiculed. The reason she didn’t even think of dating was how busy she was, with teaching and her daughter, finding balance wasn’t the issue, but rather, finding free time. Finding time to meet someone, dating was never easym but in college there were single men everywhere, now she was older, they all had jobs, and most were finding peace in someone. She didn’t know what else she could be missing, other than lowering her standards and going to a dive bar, taking home the first man she saw to feel something.
But that’s not what she wanted. She wanted love, devotion, someone who knew her the way she knew herself, but most importantly, they needed to love Harloh, not because they love Alessandra, but because Harloh was Harloh. Bright, happy-go-lucky, and creative Harloh. The girl who clanked around in plastic Disney Princess heels to match her mom, the girl who tried to stay at ballett after everyone left, the girl who was convinced she’d be a princess. There was no amount of love that could compare to what she had for her daughter, so a man giving up on Harloh wasn’t a let down, but rather an insult. Harloh was her own person, to love Alessandra, he needed to love Harloh, no, he needed to know Harloh.
About ten songs had passed, and when Alessandra stood up, the slit of her dress revealing her leg and strappy silver heels, to stop the ordeal and give the kind man a break, a slow song began to play. She watched as the man without hesitation extended a hand, kneeling on one knee, asking Harloh for a dance, her first slow dance. Alessandra for a moment let her reason slip away, believing that maybe this man was from a book or a romantic comedy, somewhere in fiction where men are loving and somehow know exactly what to do before the woman even knows. He lifted her up as she giggled, placing her small feet, adorned with white strapped shoes, contrasting his dark, large, dress shoes.
There wasn’t a scuff on them, and Alessandra felt a pang of guilt, her stomach dropping for a moment at the thought of his shoes being ruined and her having to pay the bill. But she allowed her happiness to return as she watched them sway, her daughter talking and the man talking back. Coos and comments about how handsome, how fatherly the man was, filled the room, and Alessandra let the music wash over her as she imagined for a moment what it would be like, being with him, Harloh getting the experience of a father. His chocolate brown curls were similar to hers, his skin slightly tanner than Harloh’s, and his puppy dog brown eyes added to his allure, to the feeling of safety. Coming home to him, having someone to spend time with when Harloh went to sleep, having stability. She smiled, this time not just at the scene before her, but at the thoughts she had.
What pulled her from her childlike daydream, she needed to get Harloh into something other than Disney princess movies because it was clearly getting to her, was not the song ending, but her daughter cheerfully calling her name, the green train of her dress flowing behind her as she ran. Her arms wrapped around her waist, the force of her run almost knocking Alessandra to the side and into the table. Did she really spend the entire song standing, mesmerized by both of them?
“Mommy!” Harloh grinned up at her, the bun they had put in hours ago dishelved, curls spilling out from every direction. “Did you see me?” She was panting, from the running and the half hour of dancing, but her face didn’t show that she was tired, only the wonder that filled her eyes when she truly was excited.
Alessandra smiled down at her, one hand brushing through her curls to try and tame the childlike hairstyle that came from her dancing, her other hand covering her back, her pink french tips matching her own gown but standing out against the sage green. “I did, honey, you looked wonderful.”
“I found a prince!” Her face said it all, the light in her eyes, the wide smile that told Alessandra she couldn’t say anything, because she never wanted to lose the look Harloh had on her face in this moment.
“A prince? I didn’t see any,” She tried to play along, her eyes scanning for any other kids, but the only ones there were infants, maybe two years old at the oldest. “I didn’t see you with any boy-”
“No, mom, a prince. I found a prince!”
Alessandra took a deep breath through her nose, her mind struggling to figure out whoher daughter was referencing. “I know a lot of people here are dressed up,” She started, as she crouched down to look at her daughter, “but we are all dressed nice. You were the flower girl-”
Her daughter sighed, exasperated at her lack of understanding, and Alessandra had to bite back a smile.
“Okay, okay, and who is the prince?” She asked, rubbing her daughters back.
“Him!” She whipped around, her arm extended as far as possible, her finger pointing into the crowded dancefloor, the people joining together now that her four year old wasn’t stealing the spotlight. “Harry!” She looked back up at her mom, small hands clutching her dress. “His name is Harry. He asked me to dance with him.”
She tried to give benefit of the doubt, Harloh was young, she could have a new imaginary friend. She was four afterall. Her eyes still scanned, her brows furrowing. Her daughter knew about Princess Diana, but did she really remember who Prince Harry was? “Hone-” The word caught in her throat as the crowd moved again, revealing the man who was dancing with her daughter. Slicked brown curls, coffee brown eyes, and a height that towered over Alessandra even when he was far away and she had heels on. Her breath caught in her throat next, but not out of surprise, but entrancement. The tall man smiled at them, waving awkwardly, his posture going from tall and refined to small, as if he was embarrassed.
Alessandra knew she was staring, her glossed pink lips parted, as her daughter waved back at him. The man walked towards them, no, Harry walked towards them in long strides, smiling and apologizing to those he bumped into. His eyes were locked on Alessandra before glancing at the table and cocking his head to the side. Without speaking, he moved closer to the table beside them, grabbing his name card before walking to theirs, picking up the one before him and tossing it, placing his own there.
“In case you want a dance partner after dinner,” He smiled at Harloh, his eyes locked with hers. “I’m Harry-” He started, extending his hand, the expensive ring on his large hand glistening in the light. “Your daughter is a wonderful dancer.”
“Thank you-” Harloh and Alessandra said in unison, before Harloh claimed jinx.
“You owe me a coke-”
Within seconds, Harry raised his hand, calling one of the wait staff over, whispering something. Moments later, a coke was at Harloh’s seat, open and ready for her. She grabbed it, muttering something along the lines of “thank you” before climbing into her chair beside her mother, sipping at the drink. Her smile said it all once again, the grin telling her mother that she won.
Once the coke was delivered, Alessandra smiled sweetly at him, her curls falling over her shoulders, her own bun slowly falling out of the clips. “Thank you for dancing with her, she has kids to play with at preschool and on our street, but you didn’t have to do that-”
“It was an honor,” Harry said, genuinely. “She is a sweetheart, and a princess-”
“Ah, so she talked about that.” Why was she surprised?
“She isn’t wrong,” Harry muttered, looking at Harloh. “She mentioned dance class, too. You have a wonderful daughter.”
Alessandra felt her heart swell, nodding slowly as she looked back at her daughter. “Yeah, she’s my world.”
“She looks just like you,” Brown eyes focused on her instead of her daughter. “She’s perfect.”
“Yeah…” Alessandra couldn’t think of what to say. Did he mean that? Did he know what he was saying? “She is. But that’s all her.”
Without Harloh standing in front of her, she finally sat down, only in that moment realizing what Harry had done. He didn’t switch the cards beside Harloh, he switched the cards beside her. Only inches away he sat, one finger tapping against the table. When he noticed her eyeing him, he spoke again.
“I’m sorry, did you bring a date?” As the words fell from his mouth, he looked away, his cheeks filling with heat. “Not that you aren’t- I didn’t mean-” He sighed, the corner of his mouth turning up. “I’m digging myself into a hole, aren’t I?”
Alessandra giggled, her one dimple prominent. She couldn’t focus on her quick heartbeat, she needed to focus. “I think it’s so deep you’re stuck, actually.” She lifted her wine glass to her lips, taking a sip. “And no, no date, Harloh is, though, if that counts.”
“I don’t think I mind if I’m beside you,” He said it so casually, but it wasn’t like he used the line on everyone. He seemed casual, because despite his awkwardness, he was comfortable. “Harloh is a gorgeous name-”
Before she could reply, Harloh chimed in. “He’s a prince-”
Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “She’s been saying I remind her of the Beast from Beauty and the Beast, I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not.”
“Compliment,” Ember replied. “She was her for her Halloween, she loves Disney princess movies.”
“I mean,” Harry raised an eyebrow. “Being compared to a prince, especially by a princess-” He smiled at Harloh as she giggled, her hands curled around the coke she had been nursing. “Is a compliment. Besides, who doesn’t love a happy ending?”
“Well, they stop being so happy when they’re all we watch” Alessandra laughed, nudging her daughter gently. A moment passed, and without thinking, she spoke again, “Happy endings aren’t promised, I think that’s why.”
“And who says that?” Harry rested his elbow on the table, his chin resting on his palm, his eyes locked on hers. “I think happy endings are subjective. If you’re happy, then it’s a happy ending. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Alessandra smirked at his argument, usually she was the overly optimistic one, but Harry had her beat. “Yeah… I guess you’re right. You’re in charge of your own story-”
“And your own happy ending,” He glanced between the two, his eyes warm. “I think you’ve got a pretty good start so far, may not be a Disney movie, but it’s your happiness-”
“See!” Harloh interjected, setting her coke bottle down on the table. “I found a prince.”
Alessandra nodded, while Harry smiled, probably grateful for the ego boost. At work, Alessandra had been told she looked like Sabrina Carpenter and Dove Cameron from the older grades, so she understood. Still, Harloh could’ve picked a better prince. Maybe Eric. The mans kindness, his hair, even in a suit the white button down reminded her more of Prince Eric.
“If it means anything,” Alessandra started, her cheeks turning pink. “I think you’re less Beast and more Prince Eric.”
“Really?” He leaned closer, his eyes scanning over her body, top to bottom, before locking eyes with her once more. “You remind me of Rapunzel.”
She grinned, sipping her wine again. “She is my favorite.”
“Mommy,” Harloh pulled at her arm until Alessandra looked at her. “He’s a prince, you need to-”
“Honey-” Reasoning with children was pointless, she was a mother and a teacher, she should’ve known. But still, there was a handsome gentleman beside her and she wanted to pretend she had somewhat of a chance. Having her daughter play matchmaker was sweet, but Harry could only be being polite. She was the oldest child there.
“Princes dance with princesses, you know that,” She stated it firmly.
“Okay,” She smiled, nodding slowly. “Go dance-”
“Mom!” She whined, her little legs kicking in the seat. “He’s too old to be my prince,” Harry snickered at that, covering his face, a light pink on his cheeks. Harloh didn’t seem to notice, instead, she continued to speak, her tone serious, brown eyes looking up at her. “He’s your prince.”
Alessandra’s eyes widened, her face betraying her as heat filled her cheeks. She continued to look at Harloh, her mind going through what to say, she wss a teacher after all, but even then, she was stunned. Harry was silent, too, his snickering dying down, but his hand still over his mouth. Thankfully, she could see a smile he was concealing, the wrinkles by his eyes and the corner of his mouth giving him away.
“You need to dance with him, that’s what happens, they meet, they fall in love-”
“Harloh-” Her face was only redder. “This isn’t a movie, we’re at Anna’s wedding, this is a sweet guest, Harry.”
“But if you run away, it could be like Cinderella, and he had to look so long!” Harloh insisted, as if Alessandra didn’t agree the world would end. “You need to-”
“Dinner is about to be served,” A voice echoed throughout the room, the glitching feedback of the mic covering part of the sentence. Alessandra didn’t look away, though, her eyes went from Harloh to Harry. Maybe he was confident enough to walk away when he wasn’t interested. But he didn’t move.
“Please be seated-”
“Guess you owe me a dance,” He smirked, tilting his head to the side, his eyes going from her to Harloh.
“Mommy-” Her voice was even more urgent.
“In five minutes we will start calling tables, come when your number is called, get your food, and go back to the assigned seat you were given-”
Harry smirked mischievously at Alessandra before winking and tapping his card gently.
“After dinner, we can continue the celebration.”
“I owe you a dance,” Harry said, completely ignoring the table numbers being called. “And don’t try and pull a Cinderella,” He winked at Harloh. “I rather have you now, than chase.”
Alessandra sipped from her wine glass, trying to hide her blush and her smile.
“Table three!”
Their table.
“But I wouldn’t mind chasing,” Harry said as he stood, pushing his chair in smoothly, before walking away, leaving Alessandra’s mind racing amd her heart pounding.
“I told you,” Harloh slipped out of her chair. “Princes are real.”
Alessandra blinked slowly, trying to gather her racing thoughts. “Yeah, maybe they are.”