Chapter 12
I smoothed the dress that hung from my closet door, caressing the red lace embroidery from neckline to knee. I looked into my mirror as I stood in my bra and underwear. I looked slender and strong. As I traced a line with my finger along my collarbones, over my ribs, down to my belly, I took two steps closer to the mirror to look myself in the eye. I looked good, but I was missing something, I thought, something that I not only wanted but that I needed. Charlie? He could still agitate me, sure. But I was getting over him. He haunted me less and less these days. I smoothed my hair, noticing its lushness. I touched my lips, noticing their plump kissability. I brushed my lashes, noticing their long fluttering beauty. I had to admit—I was beautiful tonight.
“Eye lash curler?” I heard the voices from Ella and Ivy’s bathroom.
I stepped into their bathroom, wearing my silk robe. The two of them stood inches away from the mirror, side by side, as usual.
“Hair spray?” Ella asked.
“Right next to you,” Ivy responded, curling her lashes.
“Got it.”
“My God,” I said to Ivy, “Your lashes are so long. How do you get them to look like that?”
“Well, years of practice, I guess, and my lashes are naturally long, so that helps,” she added modestly.
All of a sudden there was a huge thud from the ceiling, then another, and another. Ella and Ivy looked at each other. “It’s Barbara,” said Ivy. “That’s her signal!” We all ran up the stairs in our robes and bare feet.
“Dollies, Meryl told me you’re all going to a ball tonight.”
“We are!”
“No dates?” she asked.
We shook our heads.
“Well good, more fun that way. Where is Meryl?”
“She’s meeting us there.”
“Well, dollies, I called you up here because I figured that since the temperature has dropped to record lows for October, you’d be needing coats. Follow me!” She led us into her opulent bedroom, towards the closet of folding mirrors. When she flung open the doors, we gasped. The entire closet was lined with rows of fur coats and vintage boxes filled with designer hats, scarves, and gloves.
“Take your pick,” she said, with a flourish. “I truly would not buy a fur today, but I can’t bear to get rid of the ones I have.”
The closet smelled of rich leather and expensive perfume. Thrilled, we sifted through the coats and opened boxes. Barbara reached for a chocolate colored mink, handing it to me with a wink. It was beyond perfection. I slipped into it, the delicate silk lining smooth against my sensitive skin. I hugged myself in utter bliss, feeling as if I were engulfed in creamy dark chocolate.
Ivy and Ella tried on white, brown, and black furs, giggling and twirling in the mirrors. Finally, we each stood in our coats, looking for Barbara’s approval. It was like playing dress-up as kid, only this was real.
“Are these the ones you like?” she asked. “You’ve each got your favorite?”
“Yes!” the three of us said in unison.
“Then keep them,” she said. “They’re yours.”
“No, Barbara,” Ella said.
“We couldn’t,” I added.
“I’m not getting any younger, dollies, and I believe it’s quite apparent that I have more coats than a department store, certainly more than I need. Please, my gift to my babies.”
“Well, I have to say, this does look fabulous on me,” Ivy said, gazing at herself in the mirror. We all laughed. We felt like movie stars.
I hung my new mink near my dress and went into my bathroom to finish getting ready.
“Bobbie!” I heard my name being called. Ivy poked her head around the corner. “Why don’t you come get ready with us in our bathroom?”
She disappeared as quickly as she had come. I looked at myself in my little mirror and smiled, knowing I was truly part of the group.
I gathered up all my hair stuff and my makeup bag and carried it into their bathroom, gingerly making room on the already overcrowded countertop.
“Ooh,” said Ivy. “Can I try this eye shadow? Mind sharing?”
I shook my head. “I don’t mind.”
“Here,” she said. “This red lipstick will go great with your dress.”
“Do you think I could borrow that big curling iron?” Ella asked me. “I’ve been meaning to get one like it. . .”
That was the moment I felt pure female acceptance. I wanted to savor it like a fine wine. Ella taught me how to make my eyelashes look like hers, and I fixed her hair into full, cascading curls. I borrowed Ivy’s bold red lipstick, and Ivy browsed my perfume collection.
“My God,” she said. “I’m in awe of the sheer number of bottles you have. But you always wear Coco Chanel!”
“I just love all the different bottles,” I said happy to share my obsession. “I think they’re so beautiful. Every girl has her favorite accessory. Perfume’s mine.”
I was the last one finished. I’d sprayed the last curl, perfected my mascara, slipped on my heels and jewelry, spritzed my Coco Chanel, and walked into the dining room for approval. Ivy waited in her gorgeous navy gown with a bottle of something in her hand.
“Shots?” I laughed.
Ella rolled her eyes. “Are you surprised?”
“What? You expect me to go sober to this thing? Awkward!” Ivy rolled her eyes, handing me a glass.
“What is it?”
“Goldschlager.”
“Good God. Someone’s going big tonight!” Ella said.
There was no denying it--Ivy liked to party.
“Well, I got it for free!” she said with a wink. “Along with two other bottles. The perks of working in PR! They’re a sponsor at the event tonight. And with the sponsor line-up for this evening, ladies, you can expect gold toilets and the bathroom attendant to wipe your ass for you!”
“Ivy!” Ella shouted, attempting to tame her as usual.
“Cheers!” I raised my glass.
“--to looking hot!” Ella shouted.
“And pooping in a golden pot!” Ivy swigged.
“Don’t—don’t make me laugh so hard,” I managed to say between fits of giggles. “I don’t want to have to start over with the make-up.” But the laughter was uncontrollable. Watching Ivy dance like a demented leprechaun was more than I could take. Our merriment was threatening to ruin our glamorous appearances, but we were having too much fun to care. It suddenly occurred to me that for the first time since I moved in, I had allowed myself to completely let go and be myself with my girls. For a while, I forgot what it was like to be an outsider.