Twisted Proposal (11 page)

              “Here’s what I could find. I hope the pants fit.” She handed me the clothes.

“Uh, okay.” After taking a quick shower, I put on the clothes. The pants were too big and hung on my hips. I started to pull the shirt down and stopped. It wasn’t mine to stretch out.

              “They’re too big,” I announced, walking out of the bathroom with my hands over my stomach. Petra turned away from the picture on my desk.             

“Oh my.” She stepped close and pulled the pants up, but they slipped down to my hips.

“They will have to do. Now let’s see about covering that hideous bruise on your face.”

I stared after her.
Hideous? There was nothing hideous about it. It had almost disappeared!
 

“Come along,” she called and banged on Lexus’s door. “Lexus, will you come in here, please?”

              “What?” Lexus yelled, opening the door. Her hair was everywhere, and her make-up was smeared all over her face.

              “What did I tell you about sleeping with your makeup on?” Petra lectured, pulling lip gloss, foundation, eye shadow, and a bunch of other paints out onto the counter. 

Lexus frowned at me and then turned toward her mother. “You better not let her leave like that. People will think we beat her or something.”

              “Yes, dear, that’s why I asked you to come in here. I need to use your make-up.”

              Lexus handed a bottle of tan liquid to her mom. “This should work; just throw the sponges out when you’re done.” She sneered. “I don’t want to catch anything.”

“Don’t bother. I have my own.” I returned to the bedroom and grabbed the foundation that Sandy had given me. Then I stepped in front of the bathroom mirror proceeded to cover the light brown bruise.

              When Lexus and Petra started talking in Lexus's bedroom, I escaped and snagged a few sips of my hidden Jack Daniel's, then popped a mint in my mouth. There was no way I was going to survive shopping without some liquid fortitude.

“Ready?” Petra asked, re-joining me.

              “Of course.” I followed her downstairs and was surprised when she slid into the driver’s seat. For some reason, I had assumed she used a chauffeur. It would be only fitting.

              “Mom, I want to go too,” Lexus screamed, running toward us, and I gladly moved to the back seat.
At least I didn’t have to pretend to be interested in what she was saying.

Chapter Eleven

On the way to the store they gossiped, forgetting I was even there until Petra spotted my reflection in the rearview mirror. “So, who’s your favorite movie star, honey?” Petra asked.

“Daddy said she didn’t have one,” Lexus answered for me.

              “Hush. Let her answer,” Petra said.

              “Stuart’s right. I didn’t really have time to watch movies,” I confirmed.

              “Oh, well, that won’t last for so long.” Losing interest, Petra continued her conversation with Lexus about people I didn’t know. It bothered me that all they did when they were together was gossip.
Didn’t they have other things to talk about?
Elizabeth and I would talk about important things, like how we were going to make next month’s rent. Listening to them talk was like observing a couple of friends, not a mother and a daughter.
Not that Elizabeth and I conversations were that great, they were mostly about bills.

When we arrived at our destination, Frontenac Luxury Mall, a valet took the keys from Petra, and she slipped him a twenty before we exited the car.
I should be a parking attendant, but I bet that required a license.
 

We crossed a short sidewalk where a doorman greeted us, opening the glass doors. Once inside, I expected the mall to be packed like the ones in Chicago, but to my surprise, the place was deserted. In the distance, I spotted an older couple walking down the passageway, but that was it.
What kind of mall was this?
Maybe it was going out of business?

Petra took my arm. “We should probably go to the salon first. I need a manicure in a bad way.”  She glanced at her daughter. "Lexus, you could use more blonde highlights and, Addison?” She stopped. “What exactly is your natural hair color?”

There was something about her tone that I didn’t like, but I pushed it aside. “Blonde.”

              “Oh. Well, we’ll see what they can do,” she said, muttering something about kids dying their own hair to Lexus. I rolled my eyes. I didn’t dye my hair. Elizabeth did. Granted, I regretted her actions the moment I stared at my reflection in the mirror. The black color made my skin deathly pale and my eyes look like blue giant orbs.

Minutes later, we walked through an asymmetrical bright green door leading into
Gesso’
s, apparently the salon.  An overly bubbly worker greeted Petra with a phony hug, before leading us into a waiting room. She instructed us to relax in large black leather chairs that vibrated.

“I just love these chairs!” exclaimed Lexus, as another woman brought in two bottles of Pellegrino water and a bowl of strawberries, placing them between Lexus and me, then handed Petra a glass of champagne.
What kind of hair place serves champagne?

After about five minutes in the massaging chair, I was annoyed and stood.

“What are you doing?” Petra asked.

“Standing.”

“Please sit back down. We’re waiting for our stylists.” She glanced nervously at Lexus, who just shrugged.

“Is there a non-vibrating chair I can wait in?” I asked.

“No, I don’t think so.” She looked confused.

I didn’t have time to respond because two women clad in black walked in and greeted Petra and Lexus like old friends, whisking them away. I remained standing. So I leaned against the wall and thought about eating a strawberry but fear stopped me. 
What if I had to pay for them?
I hadn’t thought to bring my money with me. I perched on the edge of one of the chairs and plucked the biggest strawberry from the bowl.
Oh, well.

The berry was the best thing I had eaten since being in California. Wiping my mouth with a napkin, I wanted another.

              A black man with a bright yellow tie walked into the room spouting cuss words at someone behind him. He turned, barely glancing at me. “Hi, I’m Xavier, your stylist. Please follow me.”

I quickly discarded the stem as I left, hoping he wouldn't tell Petra. He led me back to a bright orange room that smelled like pineapples.

“Take a seat, honey, and let that beautiful mess down.”

“Alright.” I sat and pulled out my elastic band. Several strands of black-blond hair were twisted around the cord.

Making a sour face, Xavier snatched it from my fingers and tossed it into the trash.

“Excuse me?” Petra peeked in from doorway.
What now?

              “Yes?” His voice was full of attitude.
              “Hello. I’m her stepmother,” she announced with authority.

“And?” he countered.

I held back a cackle. Petra didn’t know how to respond and faltered for a few seconds.

“I…I just wanted to let you know what to do with her hair.” She regained her composure.

“Continue.” He looked at his nails.
I loved this guy!
 

“The dye needs to go. Also, can you cut some layers and clean up the split ends?”
              “Is all of this okay with you?” Xavier asked me.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” I didn’t care what my hair looked like as long as I could pull it back into a pony tail.

“Good.” She disappeared.

              “I don’t know who she thinks she is!” He ran his fingers through my hair, and I laughed. “Girl, would you mind telling me why you colored your hair in the first place?”

              “I didn’t. My aunt did. She…uh died, and now I live with my dad and his family.”

              “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. Well it’s nice to have you.” He grinned, placing a bright blue cape over my shoulders, swiveled the chair around, and tilted me back under a faucet. “Now, let the madness commence.”

              Madness, was that a good or bad thing?
Too late now; there was no going back. 

“What do you think?” Xavier asked, eons later, as he turned me around. My heart stopped. A younger version of Eve and Elizabeth stared back at me, minus their gray eyes. My hair was now a mixture of light and dark blonde waves that framed my face in layers. I looked amazing.

“You don’t like it? We can always change it.”

              “No, it’s not that. I just look like my mom.” I forced a smile. He apologized and led me to the front, where Petra and Lexus were waiting. Their jaws dropped.
Did I look that different?

              “You look hot!” Lexus exclaimed, as she walked up to me and touched my hair.

              “Uh, thanks.” I couldn’t tell if she was being serious or cracking a joke. 

“I’m sure your father’s going to be so surprised,” Petra said from the counter with a scowl on her face.             

“I wish I had natural blonde hair. Now you’re real a Californian,” Lexus gushed.

“You kind of have blonde hair,” I said after noticing there were several more blonde streaks in her brown hair.

“It’s not the same.” She joined her mother, and I tagged along.

Petra paid, and we crossed the hall and entered a clothing store that reeked of furniture polish.

              “The summer line’s out. Yes.” Lexus bolted toward the juniors’ section of girl’s clothes. Petra followed. There were large black-and-white pictures of athletic boys and thin girls lounging all over each other plastered all over the wall and columns. From what I could see, all the clothes were either pastel or vibrant colors with no in-between. I didn’t notice anything I would ever wear.

“Can I help you with something?” asked a petite girl with pigtails. I looked around uncomfortably.
Yes, guide me to the nearest exit!

              Petra stepped in. “Of course you can. I need some new clothes for my…” She hesitated and glanced at me. "Step-daughter.”

Within minutes, the sales girl had her arms full of shirts, skirts, shorts and jeans as I stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. She reminded me of a humming bird shooting from one rack to another. It made me queasy watching her zip through the store so quickly, so I spun around ready to leave, then froze.

A guy dressed in all black was staring directly at me. He had to be the most attractive guy I’d seen in a while. I could feel my face flush. Embarrassed, I turned away and ducked between the racks.
Great. I knew I looked like a freak with this hair. I wish I had a hat.
             

“Oh my god, you’re not going to believe who’s here!” Lexus whispered, as she swept up to me and latched onto my arm.

“Who?”

“Jackson Van Buren!”

Who was that? Was I supposed to be impressed or something?
I shrugged.

“Hello, he’s like only the hottest guy in our zip code. Oh my god, he’s coming this way. Act normal.”
Normal? What was that?
I guessed and pretended to stare at a display of jeans.

“A hundred dollars," I muttered, reading the tag. "You have got to be kidding me.” Elizabeth would have pulled me out of the store in seconds if I ever thought of spending that kind of money. I mean, the pants already had holes in them.

“Addison, come here,” Petra called, and I rolled my eyes. 
What did she want now?

She stood near the changing room with her scrawny arms crossed.

“Yes.” I didn’t want to try on anything but walked briskly past her into a dressing room where at least two dozen outfits were hanging up.
Was this lady serious?

“Try these on and come out. I want to see how they look,” she instructed.

“Do I have to?”

“Don’t be difficult.” She strode into the hall.

Difficult. She didn’t know the meaning of the word.
I pushed the door shut. If Elizabeth were here, she would have just bought the clothes. We hated trying things on. That’s one thing we had in common. Of course, she never would have come to a store like this. Our clothes came from the thrift shops or one of those discount places, like Saver's.

After staring at the clothes and finding nothing of interest, I finally changed into a denim skirt and green top and came out. The guy dressed in black lowered his sunglasses, watching me with his light eyes.
Where was Petra?
I walked to the end of the short hallway where I could see her near the front of the store with Lexus.
Seriously?
I fumed and returned to the dressing room, avoiding eye contact with the guy who was still watching me.
Freak.

I didn’t want to waste any more time than needed to, so I continued trying on clothes, separating them into two piles: ones I liked and the ones that I would never wear. Ten minutes later, I decided I didn’t like anything they had picked out. Everything was cheaply made and overpriced. The skirts were obnoxiously short, along with the shorts. Elizabeth would have loved this place. She consistently wore clothes that were age inappropriate.

“Are you finished?” Petra asked from the door.

             
About time!
“I guess.”

              “Could I see one of the dresses?” 

No, I would not!
I dressed in a pair of jeans and spaghetti strap shirt and opened the door. The guy in black was now leaning against a pillar watching us and Lexus was beet red, standing next to her mother.

              “Those pants are too big. What size are they?” Petra asked, approaching me.

              I shrugged. They were loose enough, comfortable.

              “Go try on the size four tall and come back out,” the girl suggested.

              “But I like these.” I stared at Petra.

              “Addison, just try on the other jeans for comparison.”

I went back to the dressing room. The second pair fit too well. I stared at my reflection, no longer recognizing myself. I looked horrible, stick thin, and too tall. I hated my body, especially now with my new hair. Everyone complimented me when I came out, but at the same time, it made me mad.

“I’m done,” I stated, coming out in my own clothes.

              “Did you like anything?” Petra asked.

              “I uh…liked the sweater jacket.” I lifted up the bright green sweater. It was hideous, but it was the only thing that I could fathom wearing.

              “That’s all you like?” She cocked an elegantly tweezed eyebrow.

              “Yeah, is that a problem?”

              “No, but what was wrong with the other clothes?”

              “They were too…I don’t know,” I fumbled.
Not me!
I wanted to scream.

              “I think everything looked nice on you, Addison. So I think we’ll buy all of it.” She said.

“But you’ve only seen me in one thing.” I argued.

“That’s good enough for me. I mean, you don’t have any clothes. You need something decent,” she said. She pushed open the door to the dressing room, grabbed the piles of discarded clothes, and headed to the front, leaving me behind.

Fine, see if I would wear them!
But I knew that I would. It wasn’t like I had anything else to wear. Stuart had seen to that.