I thanked her for the compliment and then began to take in the interior of the store.
When I was seventeen, our family took a trip to Fort Lauderdale, it was the first time I ever saw the ocean. I had been rendered speechless with the absolute magnitude of the endless amount of water. Once I entered Sissy’s Place today and laid my eyes on its interior, where there were waves upon waves of sparkly, fluffy dresses, I was once again in awe of something. As surprising as it might seem, that ocean, which once impressed the hell out of me, seemed quite small and insignificant compared to what stood before me.
I was facing a soft pink and white striped wall, open on each end to reveal even more sparkle. In the center of the dividing wall hung several gold framed portraits. Each contained a smiling beauty queen complete with sash and crown. The similarities between the pictures were striking; it was clear they were two different women, yet most definitely related. Closer observation revealed the gorgeous girl on the left was a crown wearing winner of the title Miss South Carolina, while the lady on the right was labeled runner up.
Rows and rows of trophies, ribbons and what I guessed to be scepters, covered shelf after shelf. All reflected repeatedly from the mirror behind the shelf, covering the wall. Display cases housing sparkling tiaras, fancy feather and diamond hair barrettes and, oddly enough, something called a flipper kit.
Music, combined with a female voice barking out instructions, caught my attention. I peered to my left, following the sound past several rows of white Mary Jane shoes, not another color to be found.
“Pretty feet,” a tall, slender girl commanded. Her hair hung in perfect ringlets down her flawless back. A tiny girl who couldn’t be much older than Peyton was doing an over-exaggerated walk on stage. I’d seen children like this on reality television. I always believed it was scripted, yet here it was, live and up close.
“Can I help you?” A voice spoke from behind me.
I turned quickly, finding the source belonged to yet another amazon-like woman. With Peyton’s hand grasped firmly in mine, I took two steps in her direction, extending out my empty hand to introduce myself. “Hello, I am—” I started, only to be cut off.
“I know who you are,” the woman across from me said with an icy tone. Her dismissiveness left me as cold as the ice that hung from her ass. “I was wondering how long it would take you to bring her into my boutique.”
See here was the thing, I’d been in boutiques when I lived in New York, clothes hung on plain metal racks while music thumped so loud overhead you couldn’t hear the gasps of ladies as they looked at the price tags. This wasn’t a boutique; it was an overpriced dream shop. Ms. Amazon, who incidentally was the very woman pictured in the runner up picture, was fighting a battle against her fading youth and glory. She still felt inside like the girl in the picture. It was safe to say if I looked closely, I would find signs of plastic enhancements and her bathroom full of the latest face and body creams. Hell, she might just consider a deal with the Devil himself to go back in time. The knowledge of her certain unfortunate loss in the battle gave me the ability to let her comments directed at Peyton go unaddressed...for now.
“You have me at a disadvantage. I can only assume you’re the owner.”
She nodded her head and turned slightly, revealing a row of photos I failed to notice. Nestled in a silver frame were Grant and the blonde from the crowned Queen photo above. He was wrapped around her from behind, their heads facing each other, big smiles reflecting their apparent happiness.
The second photo showed Grant kissing her nose as they sat in a convertible—her eyes were shut tight, his grasp on her shoulders was tight. Lastly, a formal picture, Grant in a tux with whom I assumed was the infamous Rebecca. She was a true beauty, her blond hair not a curl wavering nor a single blemish showing.
“I’m Constance Whitaker, but everyone calls me Sissy. Been that way since Dr. Crain, Sr. did so when I was only four.” Her fingers graced the photo of Grant and Rebecca and I realized she looked too much like her to be a coincidence. Constance had to be Rebecca's mother.
“See, the Crains and the Whitakers have a long-standing history. My Becky could make it much closer, but you knew that.” She looked over her shoulder at me.
She was right, the more I heard and now saw about this Rebecca, the more I questioned why Grant didn’t go after her?
“Everyone in town was so distraught when Grant and Becky parted ways.” Looking now at the photos of her daughter and Grant. Her thumb rubbing circles over their faces. “Mr. Parker, over at the jewelry shop, would not stop talking about how large the diamond was in the ring Grant bought for her.”
Something broke inside my chest at the thought of Grant marrying someone else. It was clear on his face he was head over heals in love with the beauty queen. What could have gone so wrong to tear the two apart?
Sissy might have been a professional beauty queen, but now she was living vicariously through her little minions and, by the looks of things, her daughter.
“You know, I couldn’t help but notice your picture hanging on the wall there.” I pointed at the picture in question, ready to address that comment about Peyton. “Runner up seems to be a trend with you. Always striving for the best, just not quite reaching it.” I motioned to the endless amounts of second place finishes, celebrated with the trophies and ribbons. “Seems you place a lot of faith in the ability of your daughter there.” I pointed again at Rebecca's smiling face. “Yet, I don’t seem to see a Miss South Carolina win for her either.” I looked around again, then finished my point. “Hell, I don’t even see where she was a competitor—or do they not give away a trophy for only showing up?”
I adjusted my purse on my shoulder, the desired look of anger now on Sissy’s face. “When was the last time she visited or spoke with Grant?” I was losing the ability to keep the smile off my face. She might have won a battle with her biting words, but I was about to win the war with mine. “Hey, I get it. She has to be a very busy girl these days, following her dreams and all. Or are they still your dreams? Maybe she left not to get away from Grant, but to separate herself from you.
“Constance, it’s been a pleasure, but I don’t think I will find anything in your shop for Peyton,” I said as I headed for the door.
“It’s Sissy,” she returned.
I stopped just shy of the door, another group of girls and mothers entered at the same time. “You see, I find Constance to be much more refined, mature. But I guess if you prefer a pet name given to you by someone who considered you a sibling, who am I to ruin it for you.” I turned away as the girls walked by, greeting me as Ms. Reid and wishing me a good day.
Before leaving, I turned back and pointed, one last time, at the photo of her second place finish. “Look on the bright side, you finally got a crown to your name. Granted it’s on a marquee of a building, but it’s something, right?” With a big smile and the feeling of finally taking up for myself Peyton, I left. It was as close to a ‘bless your heart’ moment I had come to since I arrived in this town. Sissy Whitaker would not shake me, and she certainly wouldn’t take a dime of my money either.
We had an appointment in the afternoon with Grant and I had no doubt he would give her a clean bill of health. The weather was surprisingly on the cooler side this morning. It was nice to not breathe in moisture as I walked to my car. I was feeling brave as I drove with my driver’s side window down the two blocks to Grant’s office. He had called every day, but hadn’t returned to the house. I wondered if he regretted our almost-kiss that night.
Grant’s office was the same as the last time I’d been there. Peyton didn’t wait a second before scrambling into the toy area while I checked us in.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Reid, I see Peyton is feeling better.” Carolyn wasn’t sitting behind the desk this time. A pretty young lady, I would have guessed to be in her early twenties, sat proudly with a huge smile on her face. Her red hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, while her pink scrubs looked to be
heavily starched. “Dr. Grant is still in surgery. He phoned a few minutes ago and said that if you wanted to wait for him, I could show you to his office, or if you’d like to see Dr. Garrison, he was fine with that, as well.”
I did want to see Grant. I wanted to finalize the day and time of our date. But I also wanted to get out of here quickly and take advantage of the nice weather, if Peyton’s lungs sounded good. “I’ll be happy to see Dr. Garrison.”
“Very well, I’ll let her know you’re here.” I smiled and thanked her. Crossing the room, I spotted an excited Peyton building a tower with the red and blue blocks. I was just about to take a seat when a voice called Peyton’s name.
I walked over and cleaned up the mess my daughter had created before hoisting her into my arms. The young lady that stood in the doorway, holding what I assumed was Peyton’s chart, smiled and then addressed Peyton directly. “Good afternoon, princess.” Peyton buried her face in my neck as we followed her down the hall. “My name is Vanessa and I’m Dr. Grant’s nurse.” Peyton shyly smiled at her. I would have to start working on her communication skills now that she was going to be more exposed to people.
Vanessa was very patient with Peyton as she took her temperature and got the rest of her vitals. She ushered us into a room that, not surprisingly, was decorated to look like the grand hall of a castle. I knew Carolyn had played a huge part in making this room a happy place.
Vanessa didn’t even get a chance to exit the room before Dr. Garrison entered. Tiffany was dressed in a white lab coat that barely reached the hem of her rather short skirt. Her knees and lower thighs were proudly on display. The silk green top she wore had the first three buttons undone, flashing some serious cleavage. That seemed a little much for treating small children.
“Well, hello, how is Ms. Reid today?” Tiffany never looked at me and only addressed Peyton. I assumed this was her way of making this all about the child. She helped Peyton raise her little shirt and listened to her lungs. She was just about to look into her ears when Vanessa knocked and came into the room. “Sorry to interrupt, Dr. Garrison, but Dr. Grant is on line one and wishes to be placed on speaker phone.”
Vanessa didn’t wait for Dr. Garrison to say anything as she pressed two buttons and the sounds of slow beeps filled the room. “Go ahead, Dr. Grant, Ms. Reid can hear you.” Vanessa backed out of the room, closing the door slowly and softly.
“Natalie, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you and the princess.”
The sound of his voice did funny things to me. Every time we had spoken this week, I’d had to visit my treasure chest. He was costing me a fortune in batteries. “It’s fine, Grant. I was told you were in surgery. I hope everything went well.”
The wall that I sat facing was painted with a green hill. The hill had, what looked to be, young children playing and horses carrying knights to a castle. I followed the mural around until the castle came into sight. High in the tallest tower was a princess leaning out of one of the windows, waving to one of the knights that rode toward her. Somehow, I felt a connection to this scene when I thought of Grant.
“I’m actually still in surgery.” So that was what that beeping must have been. He had someone lying on a table, correcting a problem and making life better for them.
“Are you serious, Grant? Hang up the phone and concentrate on what you’re doing! Dr. Garrison can handle this.” I heard him chuckle and it made me smile in return.
“I’m actually watching my colleague stitch up my patient. I had to check on Peyton myself.”
Dr. Garrison must have felt left out, as she interrupted our conversation. “Dr. Crain, her lungs are clear bilaterally and her vitals are all normal.” I noticed that when she spoke to Grant, her voice changed. It was subtle, but I could hear the pitch change. She was definitely interested.
“Natalie, how has the princess’s activity level been since she left the hospital?” he asked, completely ignoring her.
I looked to Dr. Garrison’s face, her brow was wrinkled and she looked quite put out. I told him of Peyton’s earlier running around the house and he agreed that she was doing fine and released her to return to her regular activities.
“You have no idea how wonderful it is to hear you say that. I wanted to take advantage of this nice weather and head over to the park.” Peyton’s eyes lit up when she heard the word park. Back in New York, our complex had a playground and every day the sun was out and the weather warm enough, we would walk over and play for hours. I knew she missed her playtime outside.
“Are you headed there now?” Peyton was now trying to scramble off the table. She knew the quicker we left the office, the quicker we could play.
“I am, actually. I need to stop by the library and check on things, but yes, I’ll be there soon.” Dr. Garrison had assisted Peyton down from the table and she was now trying to open the door.
“I’ll call you when I finish here at the hospital and if you’re still there, I’d like to see you.”
“Okay, sounds great.” I smiled as I helped Peyton open the door. “Peyton, are you going to say thank you to Dr. Garrison?” Peyton’s blue eyes looked to mine and then to Tiffany’s.
“Bye, Gwant.”
I looked to Tiffany with big eyes and then had to hurry out of the room as Peyton was running down the hall. As I rounded the corner, Tiffany called my name from behind me, stopping me in my tracks.
“I just wanted to tell you that I’m so happy she’s doing better.”
I smiled as I watched Peyton choose which lollipop she wanted out of the drawer.
“Yes, well, she had excellent doctors working on her. Thank you, Dr. Garrison, for your help.”
Peyton chose a red lollipop and was trying to tear the wrapper off, having a great deal of difficulty doing it.
“Well, it’s what I live for as a doctor.” She sighed and then placed her hand on my arm.
I looked from her hand to her face.
“Ms. Reid, I wanted to let you know that Dr. Crain frequently goes behind me and checks my work. His desire to meet you in the park is simply that, checking to see that I listened to her lungs properly. I didn’t want you reading anything into his desire to see you otherwise,” she said in a sympathetic, caring voice. She was so full of shit.
The thing was, I had a theory about jealousy in women. Some women became jealous and immediately tossed their shoes and earrings to their girlfriends and started throwing punches. Then there were the women who ran away and cried, only telling their diary how they really felt. But women like Tiffany Garrison, they were calculating, manipulative, and intelligent. They worked diligently to bring you into their inner circle, giving you a false sense of camaraderie. Then they slowly dropped hints of doubt to make you feel bad about yourself and undermine your relationships. This type was the most dangerous of woman and by far my favorite to deal with.
I removed her hand from my arm and looked her square in the eye. I moved closer to her so that only she and I could hear what I had to say. “Actually, Dr. Garrison, Grant knows how shitty my insurance is and since I haven’t met my deductible, he’s letting me give him blowjobs instead of paying the copayments. Trust me, his visiting me has nothing to do with you.”
I didn’t bother to turn around and see her face. I took Peyton by the hand, made my way to the car, and then to the library.
Tiffany Garrison was biding her time as she waited to finish her residency. She wasn’t stupid enough to make a move while he was her supervisor. I could only imagine what she would do once that time was over.
“Natalie, what are you doing here?” Ashley was manning the front desk as we entered the door. Brittney was busy putting books away and once she noticed me, she came over to where Ashley was standing.
“Well, ladies, Peyton just had her follow-up visit and she’s fit for play duty, so we’re off to the park.”
Peyton had already gone straight over to the music booth. She loved to stand in there and dance.
“Oh, my gosh! I�
��m so happy to hear that,” Brittney spoke from behind her stack of books.
“Me, too. I can’t wait to get back to work and have adult conversations.” Everyone laughed at my admission. Brittany was still dressing down, her hair was now darker and her face still void of any makeup. “Brittney, I’m sorry to hear about your mother.”
She looked at me while removing her glasses. “I’m not, she knew better than to do something like that. She let her emotions get in the way of her job. What kind of person does that to an innocent child?”
I was floored at her admission. “Brittney, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” I leaned over the counter to get closer to her. “When I first came in here, you dressed…”
“Like a slut? I know. You don’t have to sugar coat it. See, I’ve listened to my mother and my aunt for my entire life. They told me I had to dress like that in order to give men the idea of a fantasy they would want to fulfill. But then I saw how you and Ashley didn’t act or dress like that, and yet Ashley has Drew who’s a great guy, and you have Dr. Crain who’s tripping over his own tongue to get to you.
“I decided to try and do what you guys do and it worked. I have Dustin now and he’s the best boyfriend in the world. He opens doors for me and he calls me when he says he’s going to. He hasn’t even pressured me for sex, not one time. And the best part is that he isn’t from around here, so he hasn’t slept with any of the girls I know. He told me he doesn’t go for girls who dress like hookers, because they usually act like it, too.”
I smiled and placed my hand on hers. I was so pleased for her. She was truly happy for the first time.
“When his mother heard what my mom did, she told him to go pack my things and bring me to her house.” I watched as a tear rolled down her pale face. “She hugged me, Natalie. She hugged me and told me I would always have a place to stay if I wanted it.”
I couldn’t help myself as I rounded the desk and took Brittney into a hug of my own. “Oh, sweetie, everyone deserves their prince charming, you just had to kiss a ton of frogs to find yours.”
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