Fix

by Leslie Margolis

  “A what?”

  “A breast augmentation.” Cameron shrugged one shoulder casually, as if to communicate that it really wasn’t a big deal. “I’m getting implants. Saline ones. It’s just saltwater, really.”

  She hadn’t planned on telling Blake during their trip, but it seemed silly to hide it. He was her boyfriend, and with the surgery just a couple of weeks away, he was going to find out soon enough.

  “Very funny,” said Blake.

  “Seriously. I’m really doing it. Think of my body as a piece of art that I’m improving.”

  She tried walking past him, but he grabbed her wrist. “Wait a second. This is crazy. You’re serious?”

  Cameron nodded. She crossed her arms over her chest but quickly dropped them to her sides, not wanting to call attention to that area.

  “You don’t need implants.”

  “I never said I needed them. I’m doing this because I want to.”

  “But you’re so beautiful.”

  “Well, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to look better, right? I highlight my hair and tan and work out and wear makeup. You appreciate all of that, or you wouldn’t be going out with me.”

  “I love you because of who you are.” Blake seemed hurt, insulted even. “It’s not because of what you look like. This all seems so fake.”

  “Okay,” said Cameron. “But how come fake is bad? I mean, lots of things are fake. They carved out a niche in the desert where we camped. That’s fake, right? And the road that we drove on to get here? There’s nothing natural about that asphalt. Your backpack that you carry everywhere is made out of fake substances. The Nalgene bottle, our shoes…”

  “You know what I mean. This is different. You’re going through a completely unnecessary surgery with the sole purpose of altering your appearance. It’s shallow, Cam.”

  “Well you’re going out with me,” she snapped. “So I guess we’re both shallow.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Or maybe you don’t want me to look any better because you’re afraid I’ll meet someone else.”

  Blake’s mouth twisted up in annoyance. “That’s insane.”

  “You can’t understand it, Blake, because you’ve always been beautiful, yet you don’t even care. You’ve never had to struggle and you have no idea what I’ve been through, so you have no right to judge me.”

  He looked at her with narrowed eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  Cameron didn’t mean to shout but couldn’t help herself. “When I lived in La Jolla, I was ugly, okay? I had a huge nose, but I had it fixed when I was fifteen. And I had braces, too, but they came off that same summer. And it was like I was a different person. You will never understand that, Blake, because you don’t know how awful it is to look in the mirror and hate what you see. You don’t know what it’s like for people to tease you, to despise you, all because of what you look like.”

  “Okay, but aren’t you pretty enough now?”

  “That’s not the point. I’m just fixing this one small flaw. It’s not a big deal. Do you know how many cosmetic procedures were performed last year? Eleven-point-five million. In one year. It’s not just me, Blake. Guess how much Americans spent on all those procedures? Twelve-point-four billion dollars.”

  “I don’t care about the numbers,” said Blake. “I care about you.”

  “If you cared, you’d be okay with this.”

  “That’s not true. It’s just so crazy.”

  “I’m not crazy. I’m human, and all humans are flawed. People make judgments based on the exterior. It’s a fact of life. I’m not different from anyone else.”

  “Sure you are. Not everyone has plastic surgery.”

  “You never would have noticed me if I hadn’t had my first surgery.”

  “That’s so not true,” Blake argued. “You don’t know that.”

  “You have no idea what I know.”

  They continued to hike in silence. The sun beat down on their backs. Cameron was sweating in places she’d never sweat before, and she was grimy and coated in dust. Her hair had fallen out of its clip, but she didn’t want to fix it because Blake might think that was shallow too, and she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. She was too furious to look at him, and even too mad to stop and adjust her sock, which was bunching up on the outside of her left ankle and rubbing her skin raw.

  “Hey, can we get out of here?” she asked, finally.

  “Yeah, not fast enough.” Blake pushed past her, continuing up the trail.

  “Let’s turn around, then.”

  “I told you before, we’re hiking in a circle.” Blake pointed to the trailhead in the not-so-far distance. “We’re almost back.”

  “Good.” Cameron held her breath, determined not to cry in front of Blake because he didn’t deserve her tears.

  “We’ll be home before you know it,” said Blake. “I know that’s what you’ve wanted all along, anyway.”

  Cameron followed behind, silent but fuming. She couldn’t argue. She did want to be back in LA. And she hadn’t done anything but be brutally honest. There was nothing wrong with having cosmetic surgery. It wasn’t her fault that the world was a shallow place. She had nothing to apologize for.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Wireless Internet access had come to the Motion Picture Home, and the residents greeted it with mixed emotions, confusion being the most common. On Monday, the beginning of Allie’s second week there, she and the other volunteers were tasked with teaching everyone how to use it.

  Since then, Alvie had given a twenty-minute lecture on Web browsing. She’d helped a bunch of residents set up free e-mail accounts. And she’d pulled Nancy aside to suggest that Al get his own computer, so he could download pornography in the privacy of his room rather than in front of Bebe, who went to Catholic school and couldn’t take that kind of thing. It had been a long week, and it was only Wednesday.

  That afternoon they were doing individual tutoring sessions. Allie had started with a man named Herbert, but he’d fallen asleep on her after five minutes. Then she’d had Frank, whose hands shook so much, he couldn’t use the keyboard himself. He’d been so frustrated with Allie’s slow typing, he’d requested a new volunteer.

  Now she was with Muriel, who had no interest in computers. If Allie didn’t get through to her, the day would be a total failure.

  “Now that you have an account, you can write to your granddaughter yourself,” she tried.

  Muriel hardly looked up from the book in her lap. “Tell her she needs to come visit.”

  “Don’t you want to learn how to do this so you can tell her yourself?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “I’m only here for another couple of weeks.”

  Muriel patted her arm and said, “There’ll be other volunteers, dear.”

  It was hopeless. Allie looked around the room. Jenna was laughing with Sammy, an elderly comedian who used to appear on The Tonight Show. Allie didn’t know what they were doing, but obviously Jenna was way ahead of her, since Sammy was actually looking at his computer screen. Bebe sat one station over, teaching Mrs. Campbell how to play bridge online.

  Allie took one more stab. “It’s not that hard.”

  “I have survived eighty-eight years without the Wonderful World of the Web machine. I think I will be okay without it now.”

  “It’s actually the World Wide Web,” said Allie. “And it’s not exactly a machine. You were at the introduction lecture, right?”

  “I must have fallen asleep.”

  “It’s really easy to figure out, and you’ll want to know how in the long run.”

  “Ha.” Muriel waved her hand with such a flourish that her bracelets clashed against each other. “In the long run I’ll be dead. Until then, you can e-mail my granddaughter for me. Tell her next Thursday is good, but it has to be after one, because I have a Scrabble game in the morning and they’re serving broccoli quiche for lunch. I hate missing the quiche.”

/>   Turning back to the computer, Allie did as she was told.

  “So how is everything going over here?” asked Nancy, walking over and smiling down at them. Miserable, Allie thought but didn’t say.

  “Wonderful,” said Muriel. “We were just finishing up. I’m so tired. I’d like to lie down for a bit.”

  “Okay, I’ll take you back to your room,” said Nancy. Another one bites the dust, thought Allie, who felt bad almost as soon as the thought crossed her mind. Biting the dust had bad connotations at an old-age home.

  “Allie, will you please get Eve?” Nancy asked. “She was supposed to be here for the tutorial, but she convinced Jenna that she was allergic to the moss that’s growing in the walls.”

  “There’s moss in these walls?” asked Allie.

  “Of course not,” said Nancy.

  “If Eve is coming, then I’m glad I’m leaving,” said Muriel. “I don’t need to see Mrs. Big Movie Star Too Good for Hollywood and Too Good for the Rest of Us.”

  “Now, Muriel, that’s not nice,” said Nancy.

  “But it’s true,” Muriel replied.

  Nancy turned to Allie. “If she refuses to come, will you spend some time with her? She’s been by herself all day, and it’s just not healthy.”

  “Okay.” Allie was happy to be released from the technology center, even if it meant spending time with Eve, who wasn’t exactly pleasant, or even nice.

  Allie hadn’t seen her since their first meeting, but she’d watched all her old movies and had heard plenty of stories from her mom. In the course of her career, Eve had starred in five films, won two Academy Awards, dated three of her leading men, and then vanished just before her twenty-ninth birthday, at the height of her career. Allie was amazed, not that Eve had managed to disappear, but that she’d wanted to. What could motivate someone to give up what so many other people dreamed about?

  When Allie got to bungalow seventeen, she knocked on the door.

  “Who is it?” Eve called from inside.

  “It’s me, Allie. We met last week when I brought you to the screening of Gone with the Wind?”

  “And what did I say about making statements in the form of a question?” asked Eve.

  Allie was surprised that Eve remembered her. Or maybe she said that to all the volunteers. Allie would have to check with Bebe and Jenna. “I haven’t forgotten. May I come in?”

  “As I’ve said before, I can’t stop you.”

  Walking inside, Allie found the living room empty. “Eve?” she called.

  “I’m in the bedroom.”

  Allie walked through the door opposite the kitchen and saw Eve lying on a four-poster bed, looking small and birdlike in a pale cotton robe and matching cap.

  “Nancy wanted me to get you. I’m doing technology tutoring today, if you’re interested in learning more about the Internet…”

  Eve closed her eyes. “Do I look like I’m interested in that?”

  “You don’t have to come.” There was no place for her to sit, so Allie leaned against the wall. “We can just hang out here.”

  “‘Hang out,’” Eve repeated under her breath.

  “I know you’d rather be alone and I’m sorry about this,” said Allie. “It wasn’t my idea.”

  “Oh, I know. Nancy has been on my case ever since I got to this dreadful place. She wants me to socialize with the others.” Eve said “socialize” as if it were a dirty word.

  “If you hate it so much, why did you move here?” Allie hadn’t meant to ask so blatantly, but it was the obvious question.

  “It was an accident,” said Eve. “I came to Los Angeles for a short visit but then broke my hip at the airport on the day I was supposed to fly back to Paris. When I was in the hospital I got pneumonia and the doctor wouldn’t let me travel. I came here to recuperate. That was over a year ago. I’m not sure if I’ll ever make it back home, so I had some of my things sent over, a few months ago.”

  “Is that where you’ve been all this time, Paris?”

  Eve shook her head. “I’ve been in lots of places.”

  “And you swore you’d never come back to LA, right?”

  “How do you know that?” asked Eve.

  “My mom told me.”

  Eve closed her eyes. Allie thought she was going to sleep and wondered if she should leave the room, but then Eve spoke up. “I didn’t want to come back here, but my friend died. She wanted her ashes to be scattered in the Pacific Ocean, in Malibu by the old Getty Museum. She was very specific.”

  “No one else could do it?” asked Allie.

  “She was my friend. I wouldn’t trust anyone else,” Eve replied softly. Turning her head slowly, she looked at Allie. “And why are you here?”

  “You already guessed it last week, remember? I have a community-service requirement at my school. They think it’ll make our college applications look better.”

  “But why here?” asked Eve. “You don’t seem to enjoy working with the elderly.”

  Allie couldn’t deny it, and even if she tried, Eve wasn’t going to believe her. “I wanted to work at this soccer camp for underprivileged kids, but the timing didn’t work out, so my mom found me this. Nancy was really flexible when it came to my hours here.”

  “You play soccer?”

  Allie nodded.

  “And you like it?”

  “I love it.”

  “What else do you love?” asked Eve. “Art?”

  “Not really,” said Allie.

  “But the other day you said you liked the paintings on my walls. Were you lying?”

  “Not at all,” said Allie. “I think they’re amazing.”

  “So you don’t consider them art?”

  “No, I …”

  Worried she’d offended Eve, Allie didn’t know what to say. Then she saw the small smile on Eve’s cracked lips and realized she was being teased.

  “I like art, in itself. I just don’t like looking at things in museums. Any place where I have to stay cooped up inside and keep my voice down bugs me.”

  “Like an old-age home?”

  “Kind of,” Allie had to admit.

  Eve laughed. “I appreciate your honesty, Allie. Those other volunteers are so cheerful all the time. Either they’re completely insincere or there’s something wrong with them.”

  “I like Jenna and Bebe. They’re nice.”

  “Sure, to you,” said Eve. “But to me they speak too slowly, and in loud voices as if I were dumb and deaf. I can’t stand it. You’re different—genuine because you have to be.”

  “What do you mean, I have to be?”

  “You’re the type of person who can’t hide from herself, and I like that. It’s obvious to me that you dread being here, and we just met.”

  “I wouldn’t say ‘dread.’ It’s not that bad. I’m only here for another couple of weeks, anyway.”

  “What will you do afterward? Play soccer?”

  “No.”

  “Well, why not?”

  It was a fair question, but Allie had no intention of answering it. She pushed herself off the wall so she was standing upright. “Are you sure you don’t want to learn how to use the computer?”

  Eve’s eyelids fluttered, like she was struggling to keep them open.

  “Are you tired?” asked Allie. “Should I leave so you can get some sleep?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  As Allie left the bedroom, Eve called out to her. “You should always do what you love, Allie.”

  Allie turned around, asking, “Is that why you started acting?”

  “It is,” Eve replied. “And it’s also why I stopped.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Do you understand what’s involved in this procedure?” asked Dr. Glass.

  Cameron squirmed under his gaze. He was good-looking, for an old guy. Plastic surgeons had to be, she guessed, since they were in the business of making people beautiful. She knew that he was married to a supermodel. Rumor had it he did all of her surgeries h
imself. Lots of actresses too.

  Cameron wondered what he thought of her. What imperfections he noticed that would remain unvoiced because she was the daughter of his friend. Yes, friend. Cameron had just found out that her dad and Dr. Glass golfed at the same country club. Having her dad discuss her chest with some other man was almost too humiliating to think about, yet he must have done it, because here they were. Her dad had set up the extra appointment, and she wasn’t happy about it. She’d already jumped through all of her parents’ hoops. She’d outlined all the risks and had looked into the work-study program at UCSB just in case she failed to maintain a high enough GPA. Yet he still interfered.

  “I’ve done a ton of research,” said Cameron. “I know all about the risks.”

  “Good.” Dr. Glass nodded. “Let me walk you through the procedure, then. The implants I use are saline, which is essentially saltwater, wrapped in a silicone case. If the saline leaks, it’s not a problem, but you’ll need another surgery to replace them. I’ll cut a small half circle around the bottom of your nipple and insert the implant through there. Scarring will be minimal. The first twenty-four to forty-eight hours after breast augmentation surgery will be uncomfortable. You will probably experience pain and a lot of pressure, but that can be regulated with medication. You’ll leave the surgi-center with a surgical bra, which you’ll have to wear at all times. After a few days you’ll come back here and I’ll remove the bra and the bandages. Then we’ll put Steri-Strips on your stitches. They’re essentially small Band-Aids that will fall off in time. Your stitches will dissolve in ten days to two weeks. The scars will be hard and pink for about six weeks, and after that time, they may appear to widen. Then they’ll fade over time, but they will never disappear completely.”

  “Yes,” said Cameron. “I’ve read all about that.”

  “You may experience a burning sensation in your nipples for about two weeks after the surgery,” Dr. Glass continued. “And for three to four weeks following the procedure, your breasts will be extremely sensitive. You may have numbness in your nipple area, and there’s a chance that the numbness will last forever. The opposite can happen, too. Your breasts may become extra sensitive, even painful to the touch. And again, this should go away, but it also may last forever. I can’t make any guarantees because everyone is different.”