Make Up Break Up

by Lily Menon

  Annika blinked back tears. She hadn’t told him about flubbing the pitch; she didn’t want to upset him. Hearing this now, when she could very well lose Make Up in two weeks to bankruptcy, felt bittersweet. She sniffed and squeezed her dad’s hand. “Thanks, Daddy. That means a lot to me.”

  “I have another thing to say.” He stopped to reach for his water, wincing a little as the IV pulled at the back of his hand. Annika handed the water to him and he thanked her, took a deep swallow, and set the cup back down. “I realize I’ve been living my life in fear.” He stared off into space, lost in thought for a moment. “I’ve been afraid to move on from the house even though it’s too big for me, because of what it might mean for your mother’s memory. I’ve been afraid to date for the same reason. I didn’t want to do a disservice to her, or even risk forgetting what she and I had. I didn’t want you to start your business and say no to medical school, because I was afraid you wouldn’t be safe—and also because I was afraid, yet again, that your mother’s memory would be tarnished in some way because she was a physician.”

  He looked at Annika, smiled, and shook his head. “But I see now that that’s no way to live your life. Being afraid hampers your ability to be in the moment. And if there’s one thing this accident has taught me, it’s that the present moment is all that matters. You just never know if you’re going to get another.”

  Annika sank into the chair at his bedside, her hands clasped loosely between her knees. A prickle of nerves tingled under her skin. “So … what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying things are going to change,” her father said, his brown eyes serious behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “I’m going to sell the house and downsize. I’m not going to fret so much about whether you’re eating or how you’re going to pay your bills because I know you’re fully capable of taking care of yourself. And … maybe it’s time I sought out some companionship. Gave myself another chance at love.”

  “Wow.” Annika got up and walked to the window, her brain tumbling with a thousand thoughts. She looked down at the hospital courtyard, where a woman in a wheelchair sat surrounded by her family, all of them laughing and talking in the warmth of the afternoon sun. Then she turned back to her dad, remembering all the times she’d worried about him in that enormous house, all by himself. “You’re right. I’m going to miss the house, but you have to do what’s best for you. I think we’ve all seen up close how short and precious life is. As for dating…” She took a deep breath and smiled. “I’m really happy for you, Dad.”

  “Really?” He searched her face, not returning her smile. “You don’t feel like I’d be forgetting your mother?”

  Annika sat on the edge of his bed. “No. I’m not a little girl anymore. You deserve to be happy, Daddy. More than anything, I want to see you live your life with joy.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I want that, too, Ani. For both of us. I want that, too.”

  * * *

  The next twenty-four hours were a haze of flying back to LA, getting her dad checked in to Cedars-Sinai (where he was being treated like royalty, of course; as soon as Queen of the Valley Medical Center informed them about his accident, the other doctors even bought him an all-inclusive trip to Aruba for when he fully recovered, and they were all going with him), and facing the very real possibility of having to close Make Up and declare bankruptcy.

  At her desk the next morning, before June came in, Annika reached into her bag and pulled out the broken sculpture Hudson had made her. She’d tried to glue it back together, but it was still very clearly damaged, the seam in the heart glaringly ugly. She set the sculpture on her desk, sat back, and looked at it in the crisp, cool quiet. Without warning, her eyes filled with tears.

  Burying her face in her hands, Annika let herself cry.

  She cried for the Hudson she thought she’d met, but who had never been there at all. She cried for the Annika who’d wanted so badly for this to be a fairy tale, a love story with a happily-ever-after. She cried because it had turned out to be just another failed first date, just another sign from the universe that maybe, just maybe, she was meant to be alone. She cried because she hadn’t cried for all those things yet, since she’d been too busy crying for her father. And then, finally, she cried because she was just so tired of crying.

  Thankfully, by the time June arrived, Annika had managed to dry her tears and muster some semblance of normalcy. She needed to appear at least slightly put together today. It was the day they’d learn the results of the EPIC pitch.

  * * *

  Annika sat at her desk later that morning, deep-breathing in time to the anxiety app on her phone. “It’s all fine. I looked it up and actually, filing for business bankruptcy is a very straightforward process.”

  June studied her from behind her desk, her eyebrows knitting together as she played with her Yoda figurine. “But you don’t know yet if we’ve won.” Glancing at the clock on the wall, she added, “We still have an hour until EPIC officially notifies the winner. It could be us!”

  Annika breathed in for a four-count, held it, and let it out for a four-count before responding. “If one thing’s become clear to me with a little time and sleep, June, it’s that I did a really, really poor job with that pitch. I was emotional and distracted and…” She shook her head, feeling a pinprick of guilt. “I know I did the best I could, given what was going on at the time, but…”

  June was nibbling at her lip, her eyes watchful.

  Annika sat back in her chair. It squeaked softly under her weight. “Mm. Now that’s an ‘I have many questions’ face if ever I saw one.”

  June fiddled with Yoda’s oversized ears. “No, it’s just that with everything going on, we haven’t really talked about Hudson.”

  Annika focused on the anxiety app’s encouraging, glowing orb and took a deep breath again. “Ziggy didn’t tell you?”

  “No. Actually, the last I heard from him was yesterday. He said some stuff was going on that he needed to take care of, but that he’d call me later today. None of them are back in the office yet.” June paused. “I wondered if that had anything to do with you and Hudson, but I didn’t ask. I wanted you to be able to tell me on your own time.”

  Annika smiled a little. “Thanks, Junebug. You’re a good friend. What am I saying? You’re the sister I never had.”

  June’s eyes got misty. “Same.”

  Sighing, Annika got up from her tufted office chair, sat on the settee, and motioned for June to join her, which she did, her eyes full of questions. Annika studied their thighs, pressed against each other. They’d sat on this settee together and had countless conversations over the past almost-year. She wondered if this would be one of the last times.

  “Hudson and I broke up.” She heard the words fall into the room, harsh as broken glass, pricking all the soft parts of her.

  An intake of breath from June. “Broke up? So … were y’all together?”

  Annika bit her lip, blinking back tears that were threatening to fall. She played with her seaside charm bracelet as a way to distract herself. When she was able to speak again, she said, “I guess not. We weren’t dating or anything, not officially, but … I wanted to be with him, June. It was all a big misunderstanding, though. He’s not ready to give up Break Up at all. He’s willing to hurt himself by not being true to his heart or what he wants. And I just can’t reconcile myself to dating him when he hasn’t figured any of that out.” She brushed at the tears about to spill from her eyes. “And it fucking hurts and it sucks but that’s just the way it has to be.”

  June’s arm snaked around her shoulder. “I’m sorry, sweetpea,” she said, her voice choking up, too. They’d both cried so much during the past two days. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It feels like almost everything’s going to shit,” Annika said, shaking her head. “But at least I have my dad back now. I have to focus on that.”

  “And you have me,” June said firmly, kissing the side of her head. “That’ll never change.”
>
  Annika gave her a rueful look. “What about if you and Ziggy decide to get married?”

  June scoffed. “Me, get married? Not until I’m at least thirty.”

  Annika didn’t believe that for one second, but she didn’t say so. “Right.” She smiled. “I am happy for you, though. Please don’t feel like you have to hide your relationship stuff from me just because Hudson and I…” She swallowed, trailing off.

  “I don’t,” June said quietly. After a while, she added, “You deserve to be happy, you know. You told me you said that to your dad, but you deserve it, too. And I know in my heart you’ll find it one day.”

  Annika was able to muster up a wan smile, though she wasn’t nearly as optimistic as June. “Thanks, babe. That means a lot to me.”

  * * *

  Annika and June went back to work, just to keep their hands and minds busy. Annika kept glancing at the clock on her laptop until she forced herself to switch Word over into Focus mode, so she could see nothing but the screen. Twenty-two more minutes. She’d know in twenty-two more minutes who’d won EPIC. In her heart, she was sure Break Up had taken it away. But there was a tiny, tiny part of her—that stupidly idealistic part—that kept saying it wasn’t over till it was over.

  “Holy shit!” June yelped, and Annika started, her heart pounding.

  “What? Is it EPIC? Did you hear something?”

  “No, I’m sorry.” June gave her an apologetic look. “But I think I just got the future projection feature to work.”

  “What? Are you serious?” Annika peeked at June’s laptop. “Can you show me?”

  “Sure.” Grinning, June clicked on the screen. “So, I fed data points from a fictional couple into the computer.”

  “Who?” Annika asked.

  June wrinkled her nose. “Um, Sam Baldwin and Annie Reed?”

  Annika laughed. “Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan’s characters from Sleepless in Seattle?”

  “Hey, it’s what popped into my head, okay? And check this out.” She clicked the as-yet-rudimentary “go” button on the program. A short movie began playing.

  It showed Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan together, at the top of the Empire State Building, kissing. Then it showed them on a computer-rendered wedding day, cutting cake in front of a dozen wedding guests. Afterward, it showed the couple with three children in Green Lake Park in Seattle, a golden retriever romping around them with a Frisbee in its mouth. And finally, it showed them on twin rocking chairs on a porch, watching the sunset.

  “Wow,” Annika breathed as the picture faded to black and returned to June’s programming screen. “It … works. It really works.”

  “Yeah, but I haven’t fed it real-couple data yet,” June cautioned. “So we’ll see how well it works then. But at least we know it’s possible.” She grinned up at Annika, her blue eyes shining. “Isn’t it great? When we roll the app out, this feature’s going to kick major ass.”

  Annika got serious again. “If, June. If we roll the app out.” June had done so much work on it. It would break Annika’s heart if it had all been for nothing, but she had to be realistic.

  She glanced at the clock on the wall at the same time as June, and they looked at each other.

  “Ten minutes,” June said, blowing out a breath. “They’re going to call all the participants, right? No matter whether they won or not?”

  “Right. So we’ll know for sure, one way or the other, in ten minutes.” Annika began to pace to the window and back to the desk. “I need to burn off some energy.”

  June hopped off her chair and began to do toe touches. “Me too.”

  Annika snorted. “I’m glad no one can see us right now.” And then she went back to pacing.

  Her phone rang exactly ten minutes later, noon on the dot. June stared at her, her face flushed from the toe touches. “Oh my god. This is it. This is it.”

  “Yes.” Annika took a deep breath. “No matter what, we played our hearts out. And we should be proud of that.”

  June nodded, breathless, as Annika pushed the button to take the call. She put it on speaker and said, “This is Annika Dev with Make Up.”

  A woman’s voice came through in a clipped tone. “Ms. Dev, hello. My name is Tori Thompson, and I’m one of the board members for the EPIC pitch contest. I’m notifying all of the participants of their status in the contest.”

  Annika’s heart sank. This was not how you’d begin the call for the winning team. There was no excitement or enthusiasm in the woman’s voice at all.

  “Okay,” she said quietly, unable to meet June’s eye. She didn’t want to see the dashed hope there, not while she was nursing her own.

  “Your app, Make Up, was the winner. Congratulations. We will set up a meeting to discuss details, but the EPIC investment team will be putting forward a minimum sum of five hundred thousand dollars into your company.”

  Annika stared at the phone. In her peripheral vision, she could see June jerk her head up. “I—I’m sorry?” Her voice croaked, but she didn’t care.

  “Congratulations,” the woman said again, more slowly. “Your app, Make Up, was the winner.”

  “Oh my god,” Annika said, her skin rippling with sudden goose bumps. “Oh my god—we won?” She looked at June, who began jumping around the office, her mouth open in a silent scream, tears of happiness rushing down her face. “We won?” Annika said louder.

  There was a long pause. “Yes. You are the winner.” The woman was clearly not a fan of emotions or inflections of any kind. “Since the investors were too busy to call everyone themselves, we asked them to write the winner an email. You should see that arrive in your inbox any minute now.”

  “Wait, wait,” Annika said, sensing that the woman was about to end the call. “What about—what about Break Up? Were they a close second?” She looked at June, who’d stopped jumping. Annika couldn’t believe Break Up hadn’t won, especially when she’d been so not on her game.

  “Break Up withdrew from the competition.”

  Annika’s breath caught in her throat. “What? When?”

  “The morning of EPIC. The CEO cited personal reasons as the cause for their inability to compete.”

  “Personal reasons” was purposefully vague. “But … but why, specifically?” She looked at June, whose hands were now clapped over her mouth.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t have any more information. Now, do you have any questions for me?”

  “No,” Annika said, blinking to refocus. They’d won. They’d won EPIC! “Thank you very much.”

  She ended the call and looked at June, a slow smile creeping onto her face. Screaming, they reached for each other, hugged, and began jumping around again.

  “Okay, okay, but we have to read the email from the investors,” June said. “Right?”

  “Right.” Annika rushed to her laptop and clicked on her email. There it sat in her inbox, with the subject line Congratulations, EPIC winner! “This is surreal,” Annika muttered, clicking on it. She and June read the email silently.

  Dear Annika and Make Up team,

  Congratulations on your spectacular win at EPIC! We were completely bowled over by your pitch. The emotion that imbued every word as you spoke about your parents, about how your father had relayed his love story with your late mother to you every night, was what gave you that winning edge over the competition. We also understand that you’ve signed up to volunteer regularly at a very worthwhile charity in your area, and for that, we commend you.

  We know you will do a world of good with your app, and we’re delighted to be able to have some small part in your success.

  Cheers! Here’s to you, and to changing the world.

  Best wishes,

  Lionel Wakefield, Jim Hernandez, David Smith, and Lewis Stenton

  Annika sat back as the breath whooshed out of her. “Wow. Wow. They actually liked how emotional I got! It worked in our favor.” She laughed. “Well, I say ‘they,’ but that email has Lionel Wakefield written all over it.”


  June did a little dance all over the office, and after a moment of laughing until she couldn’t breathe, Annika got up and joined her. When they were both exhausted and collapsed on the settee in two graceless heaps, June said, “Five hundred grand. Minimum. With that kinda money, we can afford to hire a freelance developer or two for a decent amount of time. With three of us working on the scalability issue, we’re going to have the prototype up and running within a couple of months. And then we can actually put the app out there, for people to buy and download.” She whistled. “All of our money troubles are effectively over! Are you gonna call Mr. McManor and tell him?”

  “I’m tempted to let the five hundred grand do the talking for us, but yeah. I guess the more professional thing to do would be to give the man a heads-up before he keels over of shock.” She chuckled. Then, after a moment: “June?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Why do you think Break Up withdrew? Do you think it was because of what happened between Hudson and me?” The thought stuck in her mind like a pebble in a shoe. She didn’t want Hudson to have forfeited because of their breakup. It didn’t feel right.

  “I don’t know, sugar.” June patted her arm. “But … maybe you should reach out to him?” When Annika opened her mouth to say she didn’t see the point, June rushed to add, “For closure. Get some answers. And then you can say goodbye.”

  Annika closed her mouth and swallowed the lump in her throat. Say goodbye. Deep inside, Annika knew that Hudson forfeiting EPIC meant something bigger. It was, at least in part, a rejection of her; it was him saying, with finality, that they were done. He didn’t want to compete with her anymore; he didn’t want anything to do with her at all. “Okay,” she said quietly. “I think that’s a good idea.”

  When June went to make herself some coffee, Annika got her phone and texted Hudson.