She climbed the stairs and went into the master bedroom. She kept her clothes here and shared the master bath with her son. After going through the few items of clothing she’d brought with her, she picked a dark green wrap shirt made out of one of those amazing fabrics that never wrinkled. She changed her shirt, decided her jeans were fine, and replaced her Ryka walking shoes with cute flat sandals.
Tyler and Abby walked into the bedroom. The young girl looked a little puffy around the eyes, but otherwise fine.
“We’re going to get the movies,” Tyler announced. “Is that okay, Mom?”
“Sure.” She gave him a twenty and smiled at Abby. “You’d probably like something funny for tonight.”
Her niece nodded, then barreled toward Liz and threw herself into her embrace. Liz hugged her tightly.
“I know it’s scary right now,” she whispered. “But I’m going to take care of you.”
Abby nodded and stepped back.
“We’ll be right back,” Tyler called as they headed for the stairs.
“Get something funny,” Liz yelled after him from the doorway.
“Oh, Mom.”
Liz grinned and returned to the bedroom.
She pinned back her hair, then washed her face before smoothing on moisturizer. Melissa inched into the bedroom.
“Abby’s better,” she said. “This is hard on her.”
“On you, too.”
Melissa shrugged.
Liz opened her zipped cosmetic bag. She pulled out concealer and smoothed the cream under her eyes, then blended with her ring finger. The mineral base she used went on next. When she’d covered her freckles and blended the color, she dug in the bag for her eye shadow.
“How do you know what to do?” Melissa asked. “I bought some makeup at the drugstore. You know, before. I couldn’t get it right. Plus, I didn’t like how that liquid stuff felt on my skin.”
Liz glanced at her niece. At fourteen Melissa was old enough to wear some makeup. At least mascara and a little lip gloss. The girl’s skin was smooth and had that glow older women spent a fortune trying to duplicate.
“A base is for smoothing out the color of your skin and hiding imperfections,” Liz told her. “Your skin is practically perfect.”
“Unless I get a zit.”
“They happen. As for the rest of it, I learned by doing, mostly. We can practice together this weekend. The basics aren’t hard.”
“Really?” Melissa looked both hopeful and almost afraid. As if anticipating anything good was a mistake.
“Sure.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Liz dug around in her bag again and pulled out a tube of gloss. “In the meantime, try this. It’s one of my favorites.”
Melissa took the container and turned it over in her hand. “Sugar cookie?”
“Oh, yeah. It looks good and tastes better. Sometimes it’s very cool to be a girl.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
LIZ GOT THE KIDS FED, THE movie started and the frozen bruschetta in the oven. The schedule was tight enough that she didn’t have time to let her nerves get out of control, which was good. Well before she was ready, her doorbell rang and it didn’t stop for about twenty minutes.
Nearly a dozen women piled into the cramped living room. She already knew Pia. Jo Torelli was new. Jo owned the local bar and was a relatively recent transplant to town. The Hendrix triplets arrived together and Liz was relieved they seemed relatively friendly. Before she could do more than say hello, Pia walked in with Crystal Danes.
Liz remembered the pretty blonde from high school. “It’s so great to see you,” she said with a laugh.
Crystal smiled and hugged Liz. “Hmm, I thought you’d be sending me a cut of your royalties. Who do I talk to about that?”
Pia glanced between them. “I didn’t know the two of you were friends. Crystal was three years ahead of me in high school, so she was what? Two years ahead of you, Liz?”
Crystal linked arms with Liz and grinned. “I met Liz in our senior creative writing class. Even though she was a lowly sophomore, our teacher thought she had talent and invited her.”
Crystal had been the only student who would speak to Liz. All the others had resented her presence and basically ignored her. A few of the girls had made mean comments about Liz’s clothes, while two of the guys had hounded her about her reputation.
But in the creative writing class, Liz had done her best to ignore all that. She’d found she could forget everything in the writing process.
Each of the students had to write a short story every three weeks, then read it aloud. The first time, Liz had been terrified. While the teacher had offered glowing praise, the class had been silent when she’d finished. Feeling embarrassed and exposed, Liz had slunk back to her seat.
But at lunch that day, Crystal had sought her out and told her the story was amazing. That the other students had been silent out of shock, or maybe jealousy. Crystal had encouraged her to keep writing.
Four years later, when she was alone with a baby and terrified in San Francisco, she’d remembered Crystal’s words and had signed up for a writing class. While she’d begun with another short story, eventually it had become a novel which had turned into her first published book and the beginning of her professional writing career.
“Crystal told me I had talent,” Liz admitted. “No one had believed in me before.”
Crystal squeezed her arm and laughed. “I’m an angel in disguise. Now if only I could perform a miracle or two on myself, right?”
Liz didn’t know what she was talking about, but she saw pain flash through Pia’s eyes and Jo turned away, as if uncomfortable with the words.
Crystal didn’t seem to notice. Instead she released Liz and smiled at Melissa. “Hello. Do you have any idea where the snacks are? I’m starving.”
“Right in here,” Melissa said shyly. “I can show you.”
“That would be great.”
They walked away. Before Liz could ask what Crystal’s comment had meant, Jo held up a very industrial-looking blender.
“I need a plug and some counter space,” she announced. “I’m saying upfront that while I disapprove of fruit drinks on principle, I’m making an exception tonight. I’ve come up with a mango-strawberry margarita that is going to make you all worship me.”
“I’m glad I bought extra ice,” Liz told her as she led the way into the kitchen. “I’ll get glasses. Will everyone have margaritas?”
“Not me,” Crystal declined as she walked into the kitchen behind Jo.
“I’ll make yours without tequila,” Jo said easily.
“You’re very good to me.”
“Don’t let word get out.”
Crystal laughed, then picked up a tray of veggies. “Should I take these out to everyone?”
As she turned, the light caught her full in the face. Liz was shocked to see dark shadows under her eyes and a gray cast to her skin. It hadn’t been noticeable in the kinder light of the living room, but under the glaring fluorescents, she looked drawn and sick.
Liz did her best to keep her shock from showing. “That would be great,” she responded. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Oh, and Melissa went upstairs. I think we scared her, which makes me feel bad.”
When Crystal had returned to the living room, Jo glanced at Liz, obviously reading her expression. “Crystal’s sick. Cancer. She’s been fighting awhile, but she’s not winning.”
Liz felt as if someone had hit her in the gut. “Oh my God. No. She’s too young.”
“Cancer doesn’t seem to care about that. You okay?”
Liz nodded, although her stomach churned, as if she was going to be sick.
Jo picked up a pitcher of mix and dumped it over the ice in the blender, then poured in a generous amount of tequila. “Prepare to watch the lights dim,” she called and turned on the blender.