Craving Perfect

by Liz Fichera

  “What happened to you?” Julie said as she followed me from the KSUN television station parking garage.

  “Morning, Julie,” I said.

  No response.

  But she followed me silently all the way into my dressing room, until I was seated in front of the vanity mirror, the one with at least twenty round lightbulbs around it.

  Julie’s eyes were pickle-green, as were the letters of her name stitched to the front of her black apron in fancy, loopy letters. They surveyed me. Studied me. I faked nonchalance even as I fidgeted with my hands and bit down on the inside of my lip.

  I wasn’t used to being critiqued.

  This was going to take more practice. And patience.

  Riding with the top down at sixty-five miles per hour on the I-10 freeway obviously did a number on my hair, judging from Julie’s frown.

  But, damn, it was worth it! I’d never driven a convertible before.

  Julie didn’t wait for me to explain. Instead, with a heavy sigh she pulled out a wide-toothed comb and got to work. She began working through my knots while I focused on her bright red spiky ponytails. On anyone else, pigtails would look ridiculous but on Julie they looked cool in a retro Petticoat Junction sort of way. I envied them.

  “Where are you from, anyway?” Julie asked in a flat tone. I got the feeling she was only asking to pass the time, not because she really wanted to know. “You’ve never told me.”

  “Seriously?” I was surprised she didn’t know.

  She nodded.

  I blinked. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Julie worked a particularly nasty knot on the left side of my head. I had to bite down on my lip when she pulled so hard it felt like part of my scalp found its way into her comb.

  “Didn’t you use conditioner this morning? It’s going to take forever to get through these tangles…” Her arms dropped to her sides before she continued in earnest.

  “Sorry?” I winced.

  She sighed. Again.

  I turned to face her, even as she combed against my scalp. “Look, Julie. I really, really need your help.” I paused, even as her fingers kept working. “More than you know.”

  Julie’s hands stopped. She stood in front of me, her eyes narrowed. “You need my help?”

  I nodded.

  “You’ve never said that before either. I guess you always assumed…” She let her voice trail off.

  “Really?”

  She nodded.

  I swallowed, hard. “And I’m not just talking hair.”

  Her chin pulled back. “What are you talking about? You’re losing me.”

  “I need help with everything.” I waved a finger over my face.

  Julie’s arms crossed. “Since when?”

  “Since now.”

  She stayed silent, her head shaking, like she didn’t believe me.

  “Please,” I pressed. “Please teach me how to do all of…this.” I pointed to my face again, then my hair. “As you can see, I’m clueless. I know less than nothing about hair and make-up. My sister Kathryn tried—” I stopped myself. Kathryn didn’t exist in my new world. “Anyway, it’s…embarrassing, really.”

  Julie still looked unconvinced. In fact, she looked downright suspicious.

  I felt my chances slipping.

  Finally, she said, “Where’s Attila today?” She walked behind my chair and pressed the pump with her foot so that we were eye level.

  “Attila?”

  “Alexandra.” Julie’s pale forehead wrinkled. “You know, that pencil-thin excuse for a woman who usually does all of your talking. And thinking,” she added wryly.

  “Oh.” I blinked. “Well, I really have no idea where she is.”

  Julie stopped raising my chair with her foot long enough to stare back at me. But then she resumed lifting again. “Good.” Her expression softened. “Then let’s get started. We’ve got two hours before you go on the air.” She ran her fingers through my hair, examining the ends with a frown. “And we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

  I smiled back at her in the mirror, squinting against the glare.

  “First tip.” Julie pointed to my lumpy, blue gym bag on the floor with her comb, “Never, ever stuff clothes in a gym bag. Not cool. Always put them on a hanger in your car.” She drew back a breath as she stood behind me, but it was the first hint of a smile I’d seen all morning.

  “No more gym bag. Got it.” I nodded. “But I was in a hurry this morning.” Because I had to get to a grocery store.

  She raised a palm at me. “No excuses, either.”

  “No excuses,” I said quickly.

  Then Julie bent over and opened my gym bag and began to examine the clothes I had stuffed inside. She removed crème-colored linen pants and a matching jacket. She laid the outfit across the leather couch on the opposite side of the dressing room. The soft fabric that looked so lovely this morning hanging inside Callie’s closet looked like someone had pressed it in a waffle iron. Its price tag was still attached.

  Julie bit her lip when she pulled out the shoes and jewelry I had selected for the outfit. She turned to me, confused.

  I didn’t take her reaction as a positive sign. “Not good?” My shoulders shrugged helplessly. How was I supposed to know that yellow sandals weren’t the best choice for crème-colored pants? “At least no one will see my feet on camera, right?” I forced a chuckle.

  Julie exhaled, loudly, as she surveyed the necklace and clunky leather bracelets which, quite frankly, I thought looked pretty cool. “This may require a miracle.”

  “It’s not that bad, is it?”

  “Oh, it’s bad.”

  I cringed.

  At first she didn’t say anything. Then her thin eyebrow arched, almost as if she was having second thoughts.

  I wrapped my arms across my stomach, feeling my shot at the finer points of beauty instruction slipping away.

  But then she smirked long enough for me to breathe again. “Let’s just get to work.”

  For the rest of the morning, Julie combed and fluffed my hair. She applied more eye make-up than I’d ever worn in, like, ever. And as she covered me in lotions, foundations, hair gel, and hairspray, she sprinkled our conversation with tips, such as where to pluck the highest arch for your eyebrow (the edge of your iris) and to never drag a bristled brush through wet hair. Who knew?

  Julie did dismiss my bright yellow peep-toe sandals one more time but I bit my lip. How could size six shoes ever look bad? I had to promise her that I’d go barefoot, though, before I’d ever match yellow peep-toe sandals with crème-colored linen pants.

  When Julie finished, I stared back at my new reflection, speechless. The lights surrounding the mirror were so bright that it made my skin look almost translucent, fragile. Perfect. So unlike me. I had no idea that being so beautiful could be so…complicated and time-consuming. And exhausting. I had to do this every day?

  Julie seemed to be able to read my thoughts. “Don’t panic. I’ll teach you a little each day. It gets easier.” She paused to tighten the lid on a tube of mascara. “It might even be fun.” She smiled at my reflection. She didn’t even question why someone as gorgeous as Callie Collins was so unbelievably charm-school challenged and I loved her for that. “And as long as you work here, you got me.” She winked. “Don’t forget that.”

  I was mildly pleased, and somewhat surprised, that Alexandra didn’t hunt for me all morning.

  But all that changed with the sharp knock on the dressing room. Julie was just about to apply another layer of lip liner to my top lip. She held the brush in front of me in midstroke. Our breathing paused at exactly the same moment.

  Finally, I called out, “Who is it?” I really hoped it wasn’t Alexandra.

  The door cracked open.

  “It’s Kirk, Miss Collins.” He opened the door fractionally wider.

  Exhaling with enough relief for the both of us, Julie dabbed my lips and then began defoliating the room with hairspray. She sprayed it over my head, bl
inding me so I had to close my eyes and hold my breath.

  I flashed him a relieved smile, coughing. “Come in, Kirk, and please call me Callie.”

  Kirk’s face froze, as if he didn’t know where he was. But then he said, “Just wanted to go over the day’s schedule with you. You’ve got another busy one, no big surprise.” He rolled his eyes a little playfully, making a grand gesture with his hand. “I couldn’t find Alexandra,” he continued, tapping his pen against his folder. “Usually she likes me to go over your schedule with her first.”

  “That won’t be necessary, Kirk, but thanks. From now on, you can just review it with me.”

  Unblinking, Kirk stared back at me.

  “Hey, saves you from having to do it twice, right?”

  Kirk blinked, slowly at first. Then faster. “Sure thing…Callie.” His smile spread at the revelation. “That would work for me. But be sure to let Alexandra know about the…change.”

  “Will do. Okay, what’s on tap for today?” I asked brightly. This didn’t seem so bad. Maybe I was getting the hang of Callie’s life?

  “Well, for starters, you’ll be filling in for Sean and anchoring the news…”

  “Sean?” My voice squeaked.

  “Yeah, Sean…the weather guy?” His eyes narrowed as his hand stroked his goatee.

  Nervous chuckle.

  “Oh, yeah. The weather guy. Of course…” I swallowed. “Then what?” Suddenly the room lost some of its air as I grasped the reality that I would be standing in my mismatched yellow sandals, pointing to a bunch of weather maps that no one ever saw because the annoying weathergirl was always standing in front of them.

  Now I would get to be that annoying weathergirl.

  Even so, how hard was it to do the weather?

  My gaze darted from Kirk to the window, my mind racing. Blue skies and sunny, as usual. Delivering the Phoenix weather should be a snap. It’s Phoenix, not Chicago.

  In the background, Kirk rattled through my schedule while I continued to hyperventilate about doing the weather in front of a million viewers.

  “…late lunch with the station manager, ribbon-cutting at the new wing of the Science Museum, kid’s day, cocktails and auction for Phoenix Women’s Shelter at Mario’s…”

  “Mario’s?” I rose higher in my chair.

  “Yeah, it’s that Mexican restaurant over in old Scottsdale.”

  My breath caught like a hiccup.

  “Something wrong, Callie?” Kirk asked. “Not crazy about Mexican restaurants? Want me to cancel?” He winced. “But it is something that the station does with Mario’s every year…”

  I shook my head. “No, no. That’s not necessary. What time is it again tonight?” I forced a smile.

  Kirk’s eyes lowered over his clipboard. “Five-thirty.”

  My heartbeat increased exponentially, and not because I was going on the air in twenty minutes, although that didn’t help either. Right now, strangely, knowing that millions would be laughing at me when I tripped in front of one of those weather maps was the furthest thing from my mind. Maybe that’s what progress looked like.

  And maybe, just maybe, I’d see Carlos at Mario’s tonight.

  Still, what would it matter? Carlos didn’t know Callie Collins from a complete stranger. And Grace Mills didn’t exist.

  The sooner I got used to being Callie Collins and applying the right shade of lip gloss for my skin type, the better. Hey, I got everything I ever wanted—the beauty, the body, even the boyfriend. Why should I be worried about a guy I only dated once?

  “Thanks, Kirk.” I swallowed hard again. “I’ll be at Mario’s. No problem.”

  “Well, let me know if you want to make any changes. We can always send someone else.” His tone was doubtful.

  “No, that won’t be necessary.”

  Kirk nodded, scribbled something on his clipboard, and turned to leave.

  “One last thing,” I said.

  Kirk turned, and then Julie. Kirk’s glance met mine, his eyes posed above his clipboard while Julie stopped brushing my cheekbones with an enormous feathery brush that, frankly, tickled.

  I felt a sheepish grin spread across my face. “Do you two like scones?”

  Julie followed me from my dressing room into the studio, presumably to apply another layer of blush to the two layers already shellacked to my face.

  No doubt I needed it.

  Standing before cameras tended to drain the blood from my face. Delivering the weather was definitely out of my comfort zone. And now I had two minutes to figure out how to use something called a green screen. I’d heard the production crew talking about it the last time I was on the set.

  Don’t faint. Don’t faint. You can’t faint, I chanted to myself as I listened to my heels click against the white tiled floor from my dressing room all the way to Studio 1. And don’t forget you’re Callie Collins! You can do this. You’ve got to do this.

  I tried desperately to channel the real Callie Collins, along with all of her broadcasting expertise, because I was pretty sure she was stellar in front of cameras and chatting with millions of people as they sipped their coffee and ate their microwavable meals. At a time like this, it didn’t help much that my best skill was baking the perfect pastry.

  I lifted my chin and continued to concentrate on breathing, mindful of my hyperventilation tendencies. Mercifully, this time around, the hot bright room loaded with black and white electrical cords, cameras, and wires didn’t seem so foreign. Maybe this time it wouldn’t end so badly.

  I swallowed and rubbed my hands together to stop the trembling.

  “You sit over there, Callie,” Julie prodded gently. She motioned to the chair behind the anchor desk in the middle of the room. Three people buzzed behind the desk as they checked and double-checked two green screens that looked like a giant Etch-A-Sketch.

  “Anything wrong?” Julie asked.

  “No,” I exhaled. “Not really. I always get a little jittery just before I go on.”

  Julie shrugged her shoulders. “Only natural, I suppose.”

  With my breathing still in check, I made it to the chair and sank down. The same tall, bearded guy from the last time sprinted across the floor.

  “Hey, Callie. You ready?” His question was rhetorical. Instead of waiting for my honest answer, he fastened a tiny microphone to my collar. It felt like a noose. “Hey, Julie.” He nodded at her.

  “Whassup,” Julie said, removing a tube of foundation from her make-up bag. “Just need to do a quick touch-up.”

  “No problemo,” he said. “We’ve got a few minutes.” He turned to me. “You’re all on your own today. Kirk told you, right?”

  I nodded.

  “Good. Even got you doing the weather.” Big smile.

  “Yeah, about that…” I began.

  “David! Come take a look at this,” bellowed a voice from behind one of the cameras. “Not sure if we got Camera A on-line or not.”

  David sprinted to the back of the room and started examining a clump of twisted wires as thick as a tree trunk. I couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him.

  “Don’t worry, Callie,” Julie whispered. “You’ll do fine.” She dabbed my forehead with a pink sponge.

  “Thanks.” I forced a grin but my voice cracked a little. “All I’ve got to do is read the teleprompter, right?” I paused. “How hard can that be?”

  “How would I know?” Julie winked at me. “I just make you look pretty.” She patted my shoulder and stepped off the platform. “Hey, don’t forget about those scones. Raspberry is my favorite.”

  My chest lifted. If I got through this newscast, I’d make myself a double batch of raspberry scones. Triple! In fact, that would be the new deal I’d make with myself. If I didn’t pass out over the empty folders strewn strategically across my anchor desk every day, I’d treat myself to a raspberry scone and no one had to know. My little secret. That seemed like a fair trade.

  I drew back another breath through my teeth.
<
br />   “Okay, people. Let’s get this party started!” David yelled from behind one of the cameras, raising his hand in front of him like a New York traffic cop. “We’re on in five…four…three…two…” He held up his forefinger and pointed to the teleprompter.

  “Good afternoon, everybody,” I heard myself say. “Welcome to KSUN News and thanks for joining us today. I’m Callie Collins. Sean McCarthy has the day off.”

  So far, so good.

  But inside, my chest pounded like a stampede. I licked my lips, tasting gloss, and continued to read the teleprompter. David motioned to another camera with a flashing red light above it.

  Instinctively, I turned—not flawlessly, but I turned.

  “Here are the top stories today…” My dry eyelids reminded me that blinking was important. Never mind that the bright camera lights made it like staring into the center of the sun.

  David folded his arms across his chest and smiled while he listened. I took this as a positive sign. At least I hadn’t fainted. Or vomited. There was still time, though.

  I still had to do the weather.

  “The mayor of Phoenix traveled to Washington D.C. today…” my voice continued, “where he met with members of Congress…”

  It was like having an out of body experience but somehow I made it to the first commercial break before I took a much-needed deep breath. It was probably the longest five minutes of my life. I barely remembered what scrolled across the teleprompter.

  “How’d I do?” I half collapsed over the desk as David leaned his thigh against it.

  “You’re doing fine, Callie.” He nodded encouragingly as Julie dabbed my face again with another tiny sponge. “You’ll do the weather after the break.”

  Julie then proceeded to comb my hair away from my eyes. More hairspray. My nose wrinkled at the toxic chemicals swirling about my face.

  “Yeah, about that…” I said, trying to find the right words as I struggled against the aerosol. “I had a thought. I was thinking—”

  “Hold that thought, Callie.” David lifted from the desk like he’d been shot with a Taser. “We’re back, people!” He tapped his earpiece and raised his other hand in front of him as he counted down from three and sprinted behind the camera.