She held up a pair of once-white cotton briefs that shrieked “granny panties” and also sported a frayed waistband. Mirai shuddered daintily, as though the very sight offended her.
“I thought I told you to throw those out the last time we did a closet cleaning,” reprimanded Mirai. “Or use them to scrub your bathroom floor.”
“Well, good thing I didn’t,” replied Cara caustically, “or I’d be going commando right now. I’ll have to make sure I get to the laundromat tomorrow, since these are literally the only clean clothes I have left.”
Mirai gave the oversized T-shirt and baggy sweatpants a disdainful look. “They don’t look too clean to me. And while you’re at it, throw these gross pajamas in the wash, too. What sort of stain is that anyway?”
Cara glanced down at her Minion pajamas – the ones Mirai had given her for Christmas last year – and frowned as she noticed the stain on the top. “I’m not exactly sure,” she admitted. “It could be mac and cheese. Or yogurt. Or both.”
“Jesus.” Mirai shook her head in disbelief. “Okay, listen to me. You’re going to take a shower – immediately – and put these things on, disgusting as they are. In the meanwhile I will actually get my dainty little hands dirty for once and take out your trash and make your bed. Though if I break a nail in the process I’m going to be really pissed. Then when you’re nice and clean, we’re going to load up all of your dirty laundry into my car – including your sheets – and go to my place. You can do your laundry there while I order in some real food. And then after dinner, while I do your nails – which are beyond appalling, by the way – it’s going to be time for some tough love.”
Cara opened her mouth to protest, until she saw the fierce expression on Mirai’s face, the one that always meant “you do not want to fuck with me right now”. Instead, she meekly gathered up her last remaining set of clean clothes, and headed off to shower.
When she emerged several minutes later, with her hair freshly washed and combed and smelling of soap and shampoo rather than B.O., she admittedly felt better. And seeing how much Mirai had managed to tidy up the apartment in such a short amount of time also helped to boost her mood – which lately had probably been at its lowest point since her mother had passed away more than four years ago. The trash had been hauled away, the sheets stripped from the futon, the dirty laundry stuffed into bags and left by the front door. Mirai was even making a start on washing the pile of dirty dishes that had been stacked on the kitchenette’s single counter.
“Wow. Until I saw it with my own eyes, I wasn’t sure you actually knew how to use a dishtowel,” joked Cara.
In response, Mirai tossed the damp towel at her. “Here. This needs to be washed, too. I assume you have clean ones somewhere?”
“I’ll get one. And I’ll finish the dishes, too. I don’t expect you to clean my place up for me, Mir.”
Mirai shrugged. “Why? You’ve cleaned mine more times than I can remember. That semester at Berkeley when you slept on the couch you insisted on tidying up every single day. Even now with the maid service my place isn’t as clean as it was back then. And you can finish your dishes tomorrow. Rene’s away with her boyfriend this weekend, so you should stay overnight and use her room.”
“I have homework to do,” pointed out Cara.
“It’ll keep for one night. Besides, if you do your laundry at my place that’ll save you time tomorrow. Stay at my place tonight, we’ll go out to a yummy brunch in the morning, and then I’ll drop you back here and you can study the rest of the day.”
“Fine,” agreed Cara reluctantly. “But only if you let me pay for dinner tonight. Or brunch tomorrow.”
“Nope.” Mirai shook her head. “Because I want really expensive sushi tonight, and brunch at Zazie tomorrow, where you couldn’t even afford a Bloody Mary. And since I’m not willing to lower my standards to eat at someplace you could afford to take me, it’s my treat for both meals. And I don’t want to hear one single word of protest, okay?”
“Okay,” replied Cara in a meek voice. “Thanks, Mir. I’ll find some way of returning the favor one of these days.”
“If you’d cashed that check from the two-timing bastard, you could have returned the favor by treating me to dinner in Las Vegas,” muttered Mirai darkly. “Not to mention a massage and a cute new pair of shoes.”
Cara laughed in spite of how depressed she’d been feeling. “He didn’t two-time me,” she insisted. “I’ve told you this. Say what you want about Dante – and God knows you’ve said plenty – but I know him well enough to say without the slightest doubt that he isn’t the sort to cheat. And we’ve also discussed that damned check far too many times. I’m just sorry I ever mentioned the stupid thing to you. Even if I’d needed the money for some rare medical treatment I wouldn’t have accepted that check. It’s – it would have been blood money, Mir. Or a guilt offering. And I would have felt like a whore for taking it.”
Mirai waved a hand in dismissal. “You worry about that stuff too much, Cara. Hey, it’s not like the guy couldn’t afford it. And so what if the only reason he offered it to you was because he felt guilty? He should feel guilty, damn it. He took advantage of you. Used you. And then dumped you when someone better came along. Uh, not better. That’s not what I meant. Shit.”
Cara patted her on the shoulder. “It’s okay. I know what you meant. And frankly, Katie is better than I am. At least, she’s much, much better looking. She’s gorgeous, in fact. Frankly, I don’t know what I was even thinking of going out with Dante after he’d been with someone like her. I mean, it’s like settling for Andre after you’ve been drinking Cristal champagne on a regular basis.”
Mirai gave her a none-too-playful smack on the upside of her head. “Would you stop it already?” she demanded. “I’m so sick of this pity party you’ve been hanging out at for the last month. And with the comparisons to Katie What’s-Her-Face. In fact, that party is officially over with now. And that particular name is not to be mentioned in my presence again. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” answered Cara meekly.
After loading all of Cara’s laundry into the trunk of Mirai’s sleek Lexus sedan, they made the nerve-wracking drive to her place – nerve-wracking because Mirai was far from the best of drivers. She liked to joke that she was the stereotypical bad Asian driver, even though she was only half-Japanese. Cara had thus far restrained herself from telling Mirai that her horrific driving was no laughing matter, and merely made sure her seat belt was securely fastened and that she clutched the edge of her seat for dear life whenever she drove with her.
Once the first load of laundry had been started, Mirai ordered up dinner for them, pulling a bottle of wine out of the fridge while they waited for the food to be delivered. Cara curled up on the ultra-comfy white leather sectional sofa, a sofa that she’d slept on more than a few times since Mirai and Rene had bought the pricey piece of furniture. Or, more accurately, since their father had bought it for them, as he’d done everything else in this luxurious two-bedroom condo.
“Thanks, Mir. For everything. The wine, ordering in dinner, letting me do my laundry here rather than at the laundromat where you never know what weirdo, drunk, or homeless person is going to stagger through the doorway next.”
Mirai nodded, and promptly refilled their wine glasses with the very expensive Chardonnay that her father had bought a case of during his visit last month. “No need to thank me. I’m just happy to see you emerge from your cave for once and looking halfway human. Please tell me you do not go to work looking as bad as you did earlier today. No offense, but you looked sort of scary.”
Cara would have been tempted to give her BFF the finger, except for the fact that what she’d just said was all too true. “Of course not. Tough as it’s been, I drag myself out of bed every day and make it to the office looking presentable. Though Angela’s asked me several times if everything’s okay.”
“What did you tell her?” asked Mirai.
/> “Not the truth, of course. At least, not the real truth. She knows I was seeing someone named Danny, but thank God she’s yet to put two and two together and figure out it was actually Dante. I just told her that we’ve stopped seeing each other, and that it didn’t work out.”
“And that you’ve fallen into a severe depression as a result,” added Mirai. “Though by the time I drop you off at your place tomorrow, that will no longer be the case.”
“Hmm.” Cara regarded her friend skeptically. “And how are you planning to snap me out of my funk, huh? Let me guess. You’re buying me a puppy? No, pets aren’t allowed according to my lease. I’ve got it! You’re taking me to the circus. Oh, never mind. I forgot you have this deathly fear of clowns.”
Mirai tossed a throw pillow at her. “Do not even mention those horrible creatures! And no, Smart Ass, my plan does not involve puppies, kittens, or anything else cute and cuddly. My idea for making you smile again is to help you make yourself over.”
“Huh? You mean like makeup and hair and stuff? Mir, you know I can’t afford any of those things, and I am not going to let you foot the bill. You do way too much for me already, like dinner tonight and this bottle of wine that you told me costs beaucoup bucks and brunch tomorrow at that place that has the nerve to charge eight dollars for a single slice of coffee cake. Do you have any idea how many coffee cakes I could make for eight bucks – whole cakes and not just a little slice. So you’d better forget..”
Mirai tossed a second pillow Cara’s way, hitting her square in the forehead with this one. “My mistake in saying you were depressed. It sounds like you just drank five espressos instead. And if you could stop yapping for a minute, you’d let me explain.”
Cara set the pillow aside. “Fine. As long as you stop throwing things at me. I feel like one of those bean bag toss boards.”
Mirai shuddered. “Ugh! And that makes me think of clowns again. Once when I was around eight I went to a neighbor’s birthday party and she had a bean bag toss board with a fucking clown painted on it. I had nightmares for a week. Anyway, back to what I was saying. Haven’t you ever heard the phrase “looking good is the best revenge” Otherwise known as the Breakup Vendetta?”
Cara frowned, but her interest had nonetheless been piqued. “I guess I’ve heard the first part, not so sure about the second. But what does that have to do with me? I mean, as upset as I was when Dante ended things, it wasn’t like he cheated on me, or was ever dishonest. Frankly, I’m surprised he dated me as long as he did, especially after seeing pictures of..”
Mirai held up a fist threateningly. “If you say her name one more time, I will not be responsible for my actions, okay? And maybe revenge or vendetta aren’t exactly the right words to use under the circumstances. That doesn’t mean you can’t, uh, tone things up a little bit and get your hair cut. If for no other reason than to feel good about yourself, Cara.”
They were briefly interrupted by the arrival of their food, but once they started eating the wide array of sushi Mirai had ordered, she resumed the conversation.
“Wouldn’t it be awesome to have a little makeover, buy a few killer outfits, and then see Dante’s reaction at the finished product?” prodded Mirai. “Come on, you’ve got to admit it’s tempting as hell. No better feeling in the world than flaunting yourself in front of the guy who dumped you, and making sure he knows how stupid he was in letting you go.”
Cara smiled wistfully. “It sounds awesome, no doubt about it. But sorry to sound like a broken record – where in the world do you think I can come up with the money for a makeover? My tuition went up this semester, and my rent’s going up the first of the year.”
“I thought Nick and Angela give you a nice bonus at the end of the year.”
“They do, and I expect they will again this year. But I need that money to buy a new laptop,” acknowledged Cara. “When Len fixed it for me last month, he warned it was just temporary and that I should start looking around for a replacement. I guess I could buy a used laptop and use some of the bonus to buy a new outfit or two and get my hair cut.”
“Hmm. Except some new clothes and a hair cut are just part of it,” mused Mirai. “You also need to get serious about those extra twenty pounds you keep bitching about but never do anything about actually losing. Diet and exercise, baby. Those need to be your two new favorite words.”
Cara’s chopsticks paused halfway to her lips, a piece of Lion King roll wedged in between them. “Well, I really can’t afford to join a gym or buy a lot of healthy food like fruits and veggies.”
“You don’t have to join a gym,” Mirai pointed out. “I’ve got a dozen different DVD sets of workouts – kickboxing, power yoga, boot camp, salsa dancing, some stuff you’ve never heard of. As you know, I’ve got a serious late night TV shopping addiction, so I’m a sucker for whatever new method comes out. We’ll look through them after dinner and you can borrow whatever ones sound the best to you. And before you ask – no, I am not using any of them right now. I also get bored easily, as you also know. Right now I’m taking a Barre Method class.”
“And exactly when am I supposed to fit in an exercise routine?” demanded Cara. “I do work fulltime and go to school, in case you’ve forgotten.”
Mirai shrugged. “Get your ass out of bed an hour earlier in the morning. It’ll suck but the results will be worth it. As for affording the food, I’ve got another idea about that.”
Cara glared at her friend. “If you suggest I start growing my own fruits and vegetables in my landlady’s backyard, I’m going to poke your eye out with this chopstick.”
“Please.” Mirai made a sound of disbelief. “As if I’d suggest something so, well – rural. No, I was going to point out that you do have another way to come up with the extra money. Re-directing it might be a more accurate term.”
“I am not giving up my apartment and sleeping on your sofa for the next ten months,” declared Cara. “So you can forget about my using rent money on shoes and makeup and better food.”
“I wasn’t going to suggest that,” assured Mirai. “Though it goes without saying that the offer still stands. Tell me. How much do you think it costs you each year to fly roundtrip to Florida for Christmas? Not to mention your cab fare to and from the airport since your father’s too much of a dick to pick you up. Oh, and for good measure let’s add in the cost of the Christmas presents you buy for him and the wicked stepmother and the bratty half-siblings.”
Cara set down her chopsticks, suddenly not hungry despite the fact that she’d only had a bowl of cereal all day. “Are you suggesting that I don’t go home for Christmas this year?” she whispered. “That I use that money on myself instead?”
“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting,” confirmed Mirai. “Come on, Cara. You told me how horrible it was there last year, how unhappy you were. And once again you cut your trip short by two days because you hated being there so much. So why in the world do you want to voluntarily put yourself through all that bullshit again, waste all that money, when you could be spending it on a much worthier cause – yourself.”
Cara’s jaw dropped open in shock. “But – but I’d be all alone,” she murmured. “At Christmas. You always spend the holidays in New York with your family, and I wouldn’t have anywhere else to go. I – I don’t want to be alone at Christmas, Mir. The rest of the year I don’t mind so much, but not Christmas.”
“Sweetie, I hate to break the bad news to you, but guess what?” replied Mirai snarkily. “You might be surrounded by a houseful of people down there in Florida, but you’re still alone. And I don’t want to make you feel bad, Cara, but can you honestly tell me that your father would really give a damn if you didn’t fly down there?”
A tear began to track down her cheek as she sniffled. “No,” she mumbled in a barely audible voice. “He – he’d probably be relieved, actually. If he even noticed I wasn’t there, that is.”
“Hey.” Mirai rushed over to embrace Cara as
she started to cry. “God, I’m sorry, amiga. I didn’t mean to sound like a total bitch and make you sad. All I wanted was to have you think about yourself for once, instead of all these loser guys you’ve allowed to take advantage of you. Especially your father.”
“I know.” Cara picked up a paper napkin and blew her nose. “And you’re right, Mir. He does take advantage of me, takes me for granted all the time. But missing Christmas – not giving the kids a little gift. I don’t know if I’m ready for something that extreme.”
Mirai returned to her seat and popped a huge piece of tempura shrimp in her mouth. “Tell me again what your dad and the wicked stepmother gave you for Christmas last year? Or your birthday this year.”
Cara sighed, seeing all too clearly where her friend was headed with this line of questioning. “Nothing for my birthday. An email from my dad ten days after the fact but no gift or official card. As for Christmas – let’s see. Oh, that’s right. They gave me a set of bath gels. The same exact set that someone gave Holly the year before. The one she bitched about because it had been bought at TJ Maxx, and the price tag hadn’t been removed. And she didn’t even have the sense to remove it when she re-gifted it to me last year.”
“And how much did it cost?”
Cara’s cheeks reddened in shame. “Around ten dollars,” she admitted reluctantly.
“And how much did you spend on gifts for the four of them? Not to mention the gifts you send to the kids for their birthdays?”
“A lot more than ten bucks,” replied Cara. “I get your point, Mir. My dad and Holly obviously don’t give a shit about me, or wouldn’t care whether I show up or not for the holidays. But to not spend Christmas with my father? He – he’s all I have left,” she whispered sadly.
Mirai shook her head. “That’s where you’re wrong, baby. Your father checked out of your life over four years ago. Now it’s time for you to return the favor. And I realize it won’t be easy, Cara, but it’s like I said before – you need to kick all of the toxic guys you keep attracting in the ass. Starting with the worst one of them all.”
Stronger Page 24