It wasn’t a great start of the day for the Heart of Dixie. The sting of defeat still fresh in her mind; awakening to another Sunday morning. A Sunday morning where she pretty much overslept, at the hour it is now, theirs no way she’d make it in time for service. Rolling over onto her stomach, she snuggles into the pillow, breathing in deeply. Scratching under her headscarf, she sighs “This sure gonna be a long day. Lord had mercy.” Closing her eyes again, she lays in silence, mulling over what it is she has to do with her time today. It then clicks in her mind, she and George was suppose to be having dinner today.
Shooting up from her bed, her eyes dart for the alarm clock. It’s that late in the day!? Getting up from bed, she goes straight for the shower. No matter how hard she scrubs, it’ll never wash off the feeling of losing. Moving on to her hair, she starts to sing gospel songs at the top of her lungs. They at least make her day a little brighter. Once finished, Yvette—slipping on her bathrobe—brush and floss her pearly whites. Drying her hair, the Southern lady reads from her bible simultaneously. Completing the task of styling her hair—-in under two hours—-Yvette fixes to completing the task of makeup. Nothing too dramatic, just some lipstick, a neutral color, blush, and mascara.
Next came the daunting task of finding something to wear. Something she should have done first thing actually. At this rate it’s going to take her forever to find the perfect outfit. It was a between a her little black dress, a form fitting thing that Robert got for her a while ago. Rather she picked it out, that man has no taste in clothing…at least women’s clothing. Or her second pick, something a lot cuter and less sexy, a red cocktail dress she wore at the BCS National Championship dinner earlier this year. After about another hour of contemplating along with trying to match up the right pair of shoes with each outfit, so settles with the red dress, simple white stiletto heels and matching clutch bag.
After checking everything in the house, the stove, doors, and windows; she locks the front door. Heels clicking along the stone walkway, she disarms the car alarm. Reaching into her bag for her phone, she dials her dearest Georgia. Once she hears him on the other end, she laughs softly “On my way baby, be their in a bit.”