Pretty Girls

by Mimi Strong

  Rex leaned back in his chair, looking self-satisfied, and started talking about his marathon training.

  Nora took out her cell phone and said, “Oh no, friend emergency. This is really important, so I'll have to go. No, don't get up, enjoy your flower tea.”

  She held her head high as she left the cafe. To think, she'd actually worn matching underwear. What a waste of lace.

  In her head, she reviewed the new information about the station being sold. It did make some sense, looking back. Uncle Don's new wife was younger than him by a decade, and she'd been working on him for years, trying to get him to travel around the world, but he'd been reluctant to leave town in case an emergency came up at the station. Nora guessed he'd finally caved.

  Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. She'd been wanting to change up her career for a while now, and this could be just the thing. What had Rex meant, that staff were being traded around like baseball players? She went straight home to tell her parents.

  Nora arranged through Don's secretary to meet with him at the first available opportunity. On Tuesday morning, she went into Murray's office, where Don worked on days he was in, and closed the door behind her.

  “Uncle Don, I know about the sale.”

  “Yes, that's a familiar refrain. I've heard it from, oh, about half the staff so far.”

  “Not a very well-kept secret.” She took a seat, her body feeling lighter from the truth being in the open.

  “Your father was not happy with me,” he said with a chuckle. “The man works for the government. He's got a pension. He has no idea what it's like out in the real world. I don't know if this place will even be here five years from now, not to mention twenty or so years, when I shuffle off this mortal coil.”

  “Uncle Don, I'm not upset about you selling the company. Send me a postcard from your cruise and I'll be happy for you. I just can't believe you didn't tell me.”

  “You know I don't play favorites. I didn't tell anyone else, either. The loose lips were not from my side, I assure you.” Don stroked his beard in a similar fashion to Nora's father. His had more gray, and matched what little hair he had left. “So, kid, what'll it be for you? Do you want more money or less money?”

  “How is that even a choice?”

  “You'll relocate?” he asked.

  Nora picked up the snow globe on the desk between them and gave it a shake. “I'd like my desk a little closer to the window.”

  “You can take it up with HR when you get there. Your father thought this would be perfect for you to stretch out on your own. Your mother will keep your room exactly as it is, for when you visit.”

  Nora set the snow globe on the desk and watched the white flakes fall around an old-fashioned city square.

  “Oh, am I moving?” she asked. “Funny, I don't remember deciding to move anywhere.”

  “The cost of living, rent and whatnot, is more, but you'll have double your salary,” Don said. He explained about how the other company owned a number of stations across the country and they would be rebranding some of the stations and starting a few new ones. Nora would be their new morning voice, along with Stevey.

  Stunned, she said, “Where? Where am I moving to?”

  “Portland, obviously.”

  “Portland,” she said, and in that moment, it was obvious. The city was bigger than Eugene, but not far away, so she could easily visit. Sure, Portland. She liked the city, so why not?

  There was just one problem.

  “Mornings?” she said.

  “Don't tell me you're a night owl.”

  “With Stevey?”

  “You guys have great chemistry. It was Murray's idea. He thinks you're a star, and now that you're more confident about your appearance, you're ready to go on billboards and posters, and those bus ads.”

  Nora grabbed the snow globe and shook it again. She'd be only a few hours by car away from her family. She'd miss Tianne, of course, but they'd stay in touch. Never mind a new nose, Nora could have a whole new life if she was ready to make the leap.

  “I'll do it,” she said.

  “Really?” Don said, apparently surprised.

  “You thought I wouldn't?”

  “I guess I still see you as that scrappy little kid who gave me mud pies decorated with rabbit turds.”

  “The rabbit droppings were so perfectly round, and to be fair, I didn't know what they were. I thought they were plant seeds.”

  “You should tell that story on air. People really enjoy hearing more about your life.”

  Nora crossed her arms, realized how bad her body language was, and uncrossed them. “I'm an entertainer, not an exhibitionist.”

  “It's about the connection. People want to know you're human.”

  “And telling them about the mud pies I made when I was ten is going to do that?

  “Yes. How long have you been in radio? Four, five years now? You should know that.” He picked up the framed photo on the desk and turned it around to show Nora. Because they were in Murray's office, it was Murray's photo, not Don's. It was a picture of a black and white dog with an enormous pink nose. “This is Murray's dog, Rascal. He passed away six months ago from renal failure.”

  Nora's guts twisted up inside.

  “And now you know more about Murray,” Don said. “Tell me that wouldn't make a difference to you as a listener, if Murray had a show.”

  Nora pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, hard, to keep her composure.

  “Don't tell anyone about your new job just yet,” Don said. “We'll announce it officially next week. The lawyers are still doing the paperwork.”

  Nora nodded and left the office, her gait ungainly without her full attention.

  For the next week, Nora only spoke about the change with her parents. She and Stevey exchanged a few extra knowing looks, since they were going to be co-hosts in their new gigs, but they didn't talk about it once. Everybody knew, but played along that they didn't know.

  Nora continued trying to make conversation with Kylie, even though it hurt her pride that Kylie seemed to have abandoned their friendship over that one wrong move Nora had made, challenging her friend's health. Every rebuff of an offer to grab lunch together or even a walk to the color photocopier on the lower floor hurt Nora's pride, and she wondered if she even was a friend worth having. Tianne assured her she was, and that Kylie simply needed more time. Tianne didn't know the countdown to Nora's departure from the city had already begun.

  Finally, just after the official announcement about the corporate merger, and Nora and Stevey leaving became official, Kylie popped into the studio as Nora was getting ready for her show.

  “I totally thought you two were doing it,” Kylie said. “You and Stevey. Getting it on like Donkey Kong. You kept giving each other these weird looks, but now it all makes sense.”

  “I would have told you, but Don asked us not to. You're not mad at me for not telling you, are you? Or… for anything else?”

  Kylie closed the door to the studio and sat in the guest chair. “I've been finding it difficult not to fall back into… old habits.”

  “Do you mean anorexia?”

  At the sound of the word, Kylie grabbed her arms by the elbows and hunched smaller. She didn't say anything.

  Nora checked the time. The music bumper was playing, which meant thirty seconds until she had to be on the air, so she had to get to the point. “Do you want me to help you, find a group or a doctor for you? If you're nervous, I can make the phone calls. I can drive you to your appointments. My mother took me to all my doctors, and fittings, and physio. I guess your parents are pretty far away, huh?”

  Kylie's nod was almost imperceptible.

  “I'd hug you now, but I have to go live. You hang in there. I'm going to take care of you.”

  Kylie quickly exited the room, closing the door soundlessly.

  Nora let her breath out, constricting the back of her mouth to make a sound like the ocean, then breathed in deeply.

  �
��Good afternoon, my friends. This is Nora, and I'll be hanging out with you over the next four hours of music from every decade since gentlemen stopped wearing hats. Say, when was the last time you wore a hat? How about half a hat, like those visors people wear for tennis—those hats without tops? It's the experience of wearing sunglasses, only without that annoying cool factor.” She clicked the mouse and readied a file silently. “Here's one of your favorite ladies. She'd never wear a visor, but if she did, you know you would too. The stores would be sold out the very next day.”

  While the song played, Nora put off checking the incoming emails about visors and used the computer to look up eating disorder clinics in the city. As she researched the options, she found her mood soaring, and her heart expanding.

  It felt good to look after another person. She wondered if that was how her mother had felt, bringing in print-outs of articles on their visits to the prostheses makers.

  Nora looked up at the inspiration cork board inside the studio. It was usually covered in funny postcards and Polaroids from studio events. A card with two bears hugging jumped out at her. The caption read, Our arms were made for wrapping around each other.

  Nora felt a lump of gratitude rising in her throat. She'd been blessed to have such loving parents, and a good life.

  Nora drove Kylie to her first appointment with the wellness counselor who specialized in ED recovery. She'd opted not to use the retreat Tianne had suggested, because Kylie couldn't take the time off work.

  The appointment was at seven in the morning, before work.

  “You don't have to come in,” Kylie said. “It's only a therapy hour, fifty minutes. You could get a coffee or something.”

  Nora remembered her mother staying for her surgery, reading the romance novel. “I'll read a magazine in the waiting room. Don't you worry about me.”

  “You should get a nap,” Kylie offered. “We have a big day ahead of us. The zoo visit, and then the big party.” The party was a send-off for Stevey and Nora, and Don had rented a Greek restaurant for the celebration. Rumor was he was trying to burn off funds in the entertainment account before the transition, which was fine by everyone.

  “One thing at a time,” Nora said to her friend. They both stepped out of Nora's car and walked toward the clinic. Hers was the only car in the lot.

  “That cute guy, Aaron, is going to be there tonight,” Kylie said. “He's put together a band, and it's supposed to be a surprise, but I get the feeling you would appreciate the warning. He used to live in Eugene, did you know that? There's a rumor you used to date or something.”

  “We knew each other as kids. We did not date. Jeez, does anyone get anything done at that place, or just monger the gossip?”

  Kylie wrinkled her nose. “Is monger a verb? And exactly how well did you know each other as kids?”

  Nora held open the clinic door for Kylie. “One thing at a time,” she said cryptically. Cool as she was on the surface, underneath she wriggled and teemed with mixed emotions. Memories of Aaron and their almost-kiss at summer camp had been coming unbidden every night.

  Time flew by, and when Kylie came out, pink-cheeked after her session, Nora was still thinking about her first crush—her first love, Aaron.

  Since she was leaving town in just a few days, what was the harm in indulging in some nostalgia with Aaron? Her parents wouldn't need to know.

  The best part about working in radio was every day was different, and studio guests could be a euphoric success or a spectacular failure. Disasters were better for ratings, so all week leading up to the zoo visit, they'd been playing highlights from previous visits: animals pooping on people, snakes getting loose, and Stevey smooching with a chimpanzee and describing its breath as “better than my last date.”

  Nora was able to get her mind off the prospect of seeing Aaron later that night only when the baby animals were brought in.

  She did her best to convey to her radio audience how adorable the baby grizzly bear was. “Dewey has big eyes and ears. He's mostly black, with some light brown around his snout. And he's biting me right now. Ow! Grizzly bear attack. Wait, that doesn't hurt.”

  “He likes you,” said the zookeeper, a tall, thin black man with closely-cropped hair. His smile said that perhaps the zookeeper also liked Nora. Since the cosmetic surgery, she'd been getting flirted with, and was starting to recognize it happening.

  Dewey the grizzly bear ran once around the studio and swatted playfully at the door. Nora provided the play-by-play, “Dewey has scampered to the exit. That's a good way to describe his gait, I think. He runs on all four paws, then he switches and stands up on his back legs like a tiny man. Now he's working the door handle. I think he heard Stevey is a good kisser, and that he keeps tuna sandwiches at his desk. We're going to bring Stevey into the studio in a bit here, and he'll report back to us about Dewey's smooching skills. That's alright with you, Marcus? Dewey doesn't have a girlfriend bear back at the zoo, does he?”

  Marcus flashed a bright grin. “Dewey will take what he can get. No, he doesn't have a girlfriend.” Marcus winked at Nora.

  She was enjoying the attention from young Marcus, but he seemed not to remember her from his last visit, a year earlier. He'd been far more interested in the assorted rodents he'd brought with him, and had resisted Nora's attempts to get any kind of chemistry between them. She hadn't been trying to date him that time, just get him to engage, and maybe it was her appearance, but he wasn't having any of it. By comparison, this visit he was warm, friendly, and eager to play along with her interview. Being a pretty girl was already helping her do her job better.

  Nora squealed and giggled as Dewey scampered back from the door and launched himself at her legs, pushing her backwards on her rolling chair. “That squeal was me being attacked by a Grizzly bear. We're going to play another song now, but if you don't hear back from me… ” She cupped her hand over her mouth and spoke in an exaggerated whisper, “Call for help.”

  She brought up the audio on the song gradually. “Or at least look at the photos uploading to the website right now. With my last, dying breaths, I will upload these photos of Dewey and his adorable little bear butt. That's right, I said bear butt. This is Nora in the Afternoon, now with extra bear butt.”

  At eight, everyone from the station, except the skeleton crew who stayed behind to run the evening show, gathered in the Greek restaurant. It was a modest place that had been run by generations and showed signs of wear along with love. Summer storm clouds gathered outside, and the crowd inside hushed when lightning flashed across the evening sky. Nora's arms bristled with goosebumps, the whole of her body charged with electricity. She'd raced home to fix her hair and change clothes before the party, because she had a faint zoo smell from handling the critters. Stevey had received the worst of it, getting peed on while wrestling the grizzly cub. He hadn't gone home to change, and wore his gym sweatpants and a brand-new shirt from the station's souvenir shop.

  Nora ran her hands over her corkscrew curls. She'd been staying out of the summer sun—doctor's orders while the skin on her nose healed—and her golden hair was darker than it usually was that time of year, without the sun's highlights. It was extra buoyant from being freshly washed and dried with the diffuser. She'd been able to hang her head upside down to dry it—her nose had been healing on schedule and she was allowed to invert her head now, not that she'd made it back to one of Tianne's yoga classes yet.

  Aaron was there, setting up music equipment on the restaurant's little stage. They hadn't seen each other since the day she'd nearly broken his nose with the door. She touched her neck and imagined Aaron kissing her on it, then guiltily looked away from him.

  Aaron was in full rock star mode, with leather pants and a white linen shirt. His black hair had grown out since she'd last seen him, and he was easily the hottest guy in the room—not that there was much contest at a radio event.

  Looking at his muscular thighs, she felt a rush of desire for him and imagined a dozen scenarios,
ways she might get him alone.

  The rain started coming down hard outside, and she told herself to go easy on the booze, even as she ordered another gin and tonic. Her parents had been thinking about coming by, even discussing what to wear when she'd been home getting changed, but she'd convinced them they'd be bored to tears by the party. The real reason was because she knew Aaron would be there, and she didn't want them upset. She'd loved him since before the accident, and she blamed herself, not him. Her parents were not as forgiving.

  Nora nibbled on some pita bread and chicken souvlaki to give the gin in her stomach some company. Kylie was eating too, and Nora wondered if the counselor had already made progress with her, or if the bulk of Kylie's food was disappearing into her napkin. She'd read about a few tricks while doing her research into Kylie's problem. Kylie caught Nora staring, and gave her a big grin before popping three olives in her mouth.

  “Kylie, those have pits in them,” Nora warned.

  Kylie pretended to swallow hard, her eyes big, then she spat the pits out into her hand. “We're going to miss you, Nora.”

  Stevey stopped behind Kylie's chair and tousled her hair. “What about Stevey? Won't you miss your pal, Stevey?”

  Kylie feigned ignorance. “What? Are you going somewhere?”

  In response, Stevey jumped up on a chair and did his orangutang impersonation, much to everyone's amusement. Nora worried about her new endeavor for the first time, wondering if she'd be able to keep up with Stevey. What had she gotten herself into?

  The live music started and everyone cheered for the band. Aaron was on lead guitar, and one of the interns from the station was on bass. The drummer was a woman with full sleeve arm tattoos and a strapless top that showed off the beautiful artwork. Two blue birds flew toward each other across her collarbones.

  Nora recognized the first song immediately, a Pearl Jam song. Aaron had come a long way from the skinny boy whose hair flopped over his eyes as he earnestly played those three chords. His voice had deepened and matured, and his version of the song was so emotional, that if she'd played in on her afternoon show, listeners would have begged for days to hear it again.