mother’s side. Every woman in the family had them,
along with an uneven and vague lip line.
Would having gray hair even matter if love
was of the spirit and not of form? At the very least, coloring the
hair eased the pain of having arrived at a certain age. Caro
shifted uncomfortably; either way she pitied herself because the
result, however successful, would be fleeting and illusory—just
like her experiences of love with Zach and Marcie.
***
As Tommy had promised, Caro returned home a
finished product and didn’t have to do anything except redo her
lipstick and get dressed. When she’d gone shopping with Nina they
had rummaged through half a dozen boutique shops until Nina had
come across just the right outfit.
Staring at her reflection in the full-length
mirror, Caro felt at home with herself in the simplicity and
sparkle of a simple black dress with pearls.
Nina and Tommy had offered to escort her to
the party so she wouldn’t have to make a solo entrance. Livia had
called minutes before to say they were leaving as soon as her aunt
made a final check of her makeup. What was Livia going to think of
Caro’s refashioned look?
Caro’s self-consciousness about her
appearance didn’t supersede her vision of how Livia was going to
look. Nina had selected a sea-green dress with spaghetti straps and
a cummerbund-style belt trimmed in pink, which took the eye away
from Livia’s small bosom and accentuated her tiny waist and
straight back. The short length showed off her legs. The outfit was
a blend of youthful sophistication.
When the trio arrived, Livia’s enthusiastic
expression reflected her compliment, “You look beautiful. Uncle
Tommy said you did.”
Caro squeezed Livia. “I’m glad you like
it.”
“The short hair is genius,” Nina said to
Tommy, and then to Caro, “You look fabulous.”
“ Thanks, but let me see you, ” Caro said and turned Livia around. Nina had
French-braided her hair. The wispy bangs and free-floating tendrils
bounced at the corners of her eyes, star-lit ovals that this
evening appeared to have an ocean of green in them. “I think your
aunt and uncle did excellent by us.”
***
Well into her eighties, Phyllis’s sharp blue
eyes and quiet elegance were still her hallmark qualities that
prompted strangers to take notice, and new acquaintances, to
delight in getting to know her.
Upon meeting Caro, Phyllis had taken her
hand and in a warm embrace and said, “What a delight, Caro. Thanks
so much for coming.”
Caro became an instant fan. She had never
been the guest of honor at such a lavish gathering—sixty of
Phyllis’s closest friends—when she didn’t have to get up at some point in the
evening and earn her supper by giving a reading. On this occasion,
she was able to relax into the party atmosphere and enjoy mingling
with the other guests.
She’d chatted with several people, but was
standing alone when Tommy and Nina came up to her in tow with
Livia; a woman and young girl also joined them.
“Caro, this is Deena Michaels and her
daughter, Beatrice,” Tommy said. “Deena and I know each other from
high school. Deserted us when she got married.”
“Nice to meet you,” Caro said to Deena. And
then to Beatrice, “Hello.”
Deena shook Caro’s hand. “And now I’m
divorced, so here I am back again. Except that this time, I’ve got
company,” she said, embracing her daughter.
“This is the first opportunity we’ve had a
chance to introduce Livia and Beatrice to each other,” Nina said to
Caro.
The girls smiled at each other, and looking
at them side by side, Caro was struck by their appearance. They
were a case in contrast: for as pretty and appealing Livia was,
Beatrice was plain. Her smile was her single asset; it seemed to
emanate a warmth that came from her heart.
“What do you like to do, Beatrice?” Caro
asked.
“Anything to do with the water. Surf,
mostly.”
“Beatrice is saving up for a surf board,”
Livia
along with an uneven and vague lip line.
Would having gray hair even matter if love
was of the spirit and not of form? At the very least, coloring the
hair eased the pain of having arrived at a certain age. Caro
shifted uncomfortably; either way she pitied herself because the
result, however successful, would be fleeting and illusory—just
like her experiences of love with Zach and Marcie.
***
As Tommy had promised, Caro returned home a
finished product and didn’t have to do anything except redo her
lipstick and get dressed. When she’d gone shopping with Nina they
had rummaged through half a dozen boutique shops until Nina had
come across just the right outfit.
Staring at her reflection in the full-length
mirror, Caro felt at home with herself in the simplicity and
sparkle of a simple black dress with pearls.
Nina and Tommy had offered to escort her to
the party so she wouldn’t have to make a solo entrance. Livia had
called minutes before to say they were leaving as soon as her aunt
made a final check of her makeup. What was Livia going to think of
Caro’s refashioned look?
Caro’s self-consciousness about her
appearance didn’t supersede her vision of how Livia was going to
look. Nina had selected a sea-green dress with spaghetti straps and
a cummerbund-style belt trimmed in pink, which took the eye away
from Livia’s small bosom and accentuated her tiny waist and
straight back. The short length showed off her legs. The outfit was
a blend of youthful sophistication.
When the trio arrived, Livia’s enthusiastic
expression reflected her compliment, “You look beautiful. Uncle
Tommy said you did.”
Caro squeezed Livia. “I’m glad you like
it.”
“The short hair is genius,” Nina said to
Tommy, and then to Caro, “You look fabulous.”
“ Thanks, but let me see you, ” Caro said and turned Livia around. Nina had
French-braided her hair. The wispy bangs and free-floating tendrils
bounced at the corners of her eyes, star-lit ovals that this
evening appeared to have an ocean of green in them. “I think your
aunt and uncle did excellent by us.”
***
Well into her eighties, Phyllis’s sharp blue
eyes and quiet elegance were still her hallmark qualities that
prompted strangers to take notice, and new acquaintances, to
delight in getting to know her.
Upon meeting Caro, Phyllis had taken her
hand and in a warm embrace and said, “What a delight, Caro. Thanks
so much for coming.”
Caro became an instant fan. She had never
been the guest of honor at such a lavish gathering—sixty of
Phyllis’s closest friends—when she didn’t have to get up at some point in the
evening and earn her supper by giving a reading. On this occasion,
she was able to relax into the party atmosphere and enjoy mingling
with the other guests.
She’d chatted with several people, but was
standing alone when Tommy and Nina came up to her in tow with
Livia; a woman and young girl also joined them.
“Caro, this is Deena Michaels and her
daughter, Beatrice,” Tommy said. “Deena and I know each other from
high school. Deserted us when she got married.”
“Nice to meet you,” Caro said to Deena. And
then to Beatrice, “Hello.”
Deena shook Caro’s hand. “And now I’m
divorced, so here I am back again. Except that this time, I’ve got
company,” she said, embracing her daughter.
“This is the first opportunity we’ve had a
chance to introduce Livia and Beatrice to each other,” Nina said to
Caro.
The girls smiled at each other, and looking
at them side by side, Caro was struck by their appearance. They
were a case in contrast: for as pretty and appealing Livia was,
Beatrice was plain. Her smile was her single asset; it seemed to
emanate a warmth that came from her heart.
“What do you like to do, Beatrice?” Caro
asked.
“Anything to do with the water. Surf,
mostly.”
“Beatrice is saving up for a surf board,”
Livia
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