by Rowan Hanlon
It took her a moment to reply, as if she were really considering this question and she tossed the scissors and gob of hair onto the dressing table. Then she perked up and said, “I want an eye cream that works!” She laughed hysterically and picked up—and threw at Kael—various small bottles of eye cream. As she did so, she hissed, “Forty, fifty, sixty, one-hundred and twenty dollars. For nothing!”
Kael, who’d been trying to dodge the small bottles, stopped and stared at Celeste as she straightened up and smoothed her hair back. Once she’d regained her composure, she started babbling…
“It’s all genetic! I know a woman who smokes like a chimney and drinks like a fish who looks like she’s still in high school. Well, not high school. But she does look early thirties. I hate her so much! She does nothing and looks like that! And I have to try so hard to maintain what I have. And I get tired, Kael, I get so tired of trying and trying to only see… This…”
She turned to the mirror and stared at her face and looked slightly horrified at her reflection. Kael stared at her, too. She couldn’t see even one wrinkle on Celeste’s face.
“But it’s too hard not to try, isn’t it?” Celeste said softly. “We have to hope, don’t we?”
Kael didn’t reply. She was actually getting swept up in Celeste’s craziness. She couldn’t look away for a second. It was like watching a train wreck.
“And that’s where we at Haute Woman come in,” Celeste said in that weird chipper voice, like she was announcing something on a radio commercial. “We actually test the beauty products and tell you the truth about what’s behind all those ingredients. What does really work and what doesn’t?” She caught her breath and a look of infuriation came over her face. She hissed, “I’ll tell you what fucking works! Nothing! You cannot stop aging because you can’t! But it’s all about looking younger and being younger and acting younger, younger, younger! Why can’t we just age gracefully?” She paused and her tone changed, once again taking on the chipper voice, “Because we have choices. We have options. We have things we can do to make us think that we can turn back the clock. But we’re still aging on the inside, that’s what they never tell you. They never tell you that you can look like a twenty-year old but you’re still going to feel like forty.”
She sighed dramatically and collapsed in a white wing chair in the corner Kael hadn’t noticed. Kael studied her, thinking that if she wasn’t so frightened, she would have been quite entertained at Celeste’s soliloquy about aging. It was all true, after all. But it wasn’t something that concerned her. She was still too young to worry about such things. She asked her, “Is that how old you are? Forty?”
Celeste raised a brow at her and almost laughed. “Like I’d tell you how old I am. And, no, I’m not forty. Everyone thinks I am, there or about. But I might be just a little older than that. Well, maybe more than a little. I don’t tell anyone how old I am. In fact…” She paused and seemed to wonder herself at her age. “No. Am I…? I can’t remember.”
“You can’t remember your age?” Kael asked, astonished.
“It is a highly guarded secret,” she said. “I am over forty but under fifty. That’s all I allow myself to accept.”
“What? What does that mean?” Kael asked, thinking she was crazier than she looked. She stared at Celeste, waiting on her answer. When she didn’t respond, she said, “What does it matter anyway, how old you are? Who cares?”
“Don’t be daft, Kael,” Celeste said and sighed heavily. “A wise woman never reveals her age, lest she be condemned to the vanity stricken perceptions of others.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that if you tell someone your age, they expect you to not only act it but to look it as well. It means they are predisposed to think of you in a certain way. They put you in a box and they never let you get out of it.”
Her answer only befuddled Kael, who couldn’t help but ask, “What is wrong with you?”
Celeste stared at her perfectly manicured nails and said with detachment, “I guess I’ve just had enough.”
“Are you serious right now?”
Celeste chuckled and stared at Kael. “Ah, the arrogance of youth,” she said. “I guess I could allow myself a moment to feel a bit of nostalgia for those days long past. I’m not so old that I can’t remember my own youth and the glory of foolishness it entailed.” She chuckled a little and closed her eyes, as if remembering something gloriously foolish and fun she’d done when she was younger.
She’s gone, Kael thought. She’d not on the edge. She’s over the edge and down the valley. It was as simple as that. Kael wondered how much time she had before it really started to go down, whatever it was Celeste was planning. She hoped enough to get away from her, but it didn’t look too good. And that thought really, really terrified her.
Whatever reminiscence Celeste was feeling for her youth seemed to pass swiftly and she shook her head as she said, still chuckling, “You are such a smartass, even in the end. Am I serious right now? Yes, I am. I am serious. As a heart attack.” She paused to grin at Kael then shook her head as if she’d forgotten something and said, “Oh, yes, that! Anyway, no. Nothing works, Kael, to keep you younger. And the irony here is that it’s all about being young, appearing younger, acting younger. Younger, younger, younger! Fuck! We have to fight it. And we’re fighting a losing battle. And that gets so tiresome.”
She turned to the dressing table, rummaged around before finding a small black valise. She held it up proudly, then opened it to reveal two big syringes. “Wrinkle relief,” she said and winked. “I swiped these from my dermatologist’s office last time I was in there. I bought the case myself at an antique store.”
Kael was flabbergasted. “Why?”
“Because it’s nice to have control over something.” She pointed to her eyes. “You did tell me I was looking a little tired. I haven’t used this because it might interfere with the fertility drugs, even though I don’t know if that’s possible. My husband said that but what does he know? But I have them around to remind me that anytime I want to stop the clock, I can. This is true control.”
Kael’s eyes grew wide as she listened to her. She knew she was crazy before, but the extent was really beginning to reveal itself. The woman was what her father would call “bat-shit crazy.”
“Yeah, but nothing ever works,” Celeste said. “I mean, injections do work but you can’t use them all the time and it does make one look rather too interested. Or surprised. Or whatever.” She took a breath and exhaled loudly. “But do you know what does work? Exfoliation!”
She went back to the table and found a tube of something, then held it up. “Pure glycolic acid. I mean, pure. That stuff in the drugstore? Don’t waste your time. This gets the job done. But be careful, over-applying might cause a bad burn.”
She uncapped it as Kael watched her. As soon as she realized what she was going to do with it, she started trying to get out of the chair, which, of course, she couldn’t. Celeste ignored her and grinned, pulling out a pair of heavy-duty rubber gloves from a drawer. Without a word, she smeared a big glob of the stuff on Kael’s cheek. She screamed as the acid burned into her skin.
“You fucking bitch!” she screamed. “Get it off! Get it off!” Her skin was literally baking, as if someone had pushed her face onto a hot stove eye. Another uncontrollable scream erupted from her lips. “Now!”
“Oh, come on, you big crybaby. It’s just a little acid.” She leaned back and stared at her. “You know, you’re lucky, Kael. By the time we’re done here today, I’ll have the clock turned back so much on you, you’ll look pre-pubescent.”
Kael screamed again as the pain worsened and it seemed as though she couldn’t stop. Celeste sighed, grabbed a towel and wiped the glob of acid off, though it did little in the way of relief. Kael couldn’t stop screaming but she did notice that Celeste stopped moving and stared at her then stumbled forward a little, almost falling into her. Kael stopped sc
reaming and watched as Celeste pressed the back of her arm against her forehead, as if her head was swimming.
“What am I doing? Why am I here?” she mumbled, barely audible. She shook her head as if she were trying to remember what was going on, but it was like she’d forgotten. Her eyes crossed and seemed to go out of focus for a long moment and she appeared to have trouble concentrating on anything.
Kael studied her then the pain of the burn swept through her entire body. It was too much to take. She felt nauseous, like she could pass out from it. Another moment passed then the pain really kicked in and it was too much to take. “Please get it off! Please!” Kael cried and almost danced in her chair with the pain. “Please, Celeste, get it off!”
Celeste’s head jerked up and she focused on Kael, as if she suddenly remembered why she was here and what she was doing. And why. “That screaming is getting really old, Kael.” She squared her shoulders and told her, “Shut the fuck up.”
Kael just then remembered she had some burn cream in her bag. She’d picked it up for Nick, who had burned his hand making breakfast one morning. That was a week or so ago and she’d forgotten to take it out of her bag and give it to him. Thank God for that! “In my bag!” Kael begged. “I have some ointment! Please get it out! Please put it on me!”
Celeste rolled her eyes, removed her rubber gloves then emptied Kael’s bag onto the dressing table. She rummaged around and found the ointment, then she found the gun.
As she pulled it out, Kael’s eyes widened. It was the gun her father had sent, along with the bullets. Kael was at a loss right then. What do you do when something like this happens? How do you act? But, most importantly, how do you convince a crazy person that this isn’t what it looks like? She didn’t have a clue, not a clue. But she knew she was up shit creek now, without the proverbial paddle.
Celeste held the gun up, studying it for a moment, then turned to Kael, her eyes narrowing. “Did you come here to shoot me?” she asked. “I mean, like, walk me through this, Kael.”
Kael felt an even worse sense of dread and she felt it physically. She wanted to throw up, run away, hide, be invisible—something! Anything to get away from Celeste! She hated herself for a moment for being so stupid as to come out here and even more stupid for not getting rid of that fucking gun! Why the hell hadn’t she gotten rid of it? She’d meant to toss it or drop it by a police station or something, but it had stayed in her bag, lost at the bottom with a multitude of odd things that had long since been forgotten about—gum wrappers, pieces of candy, a vintage lighter she’d found at an antique store, hair clips, a hair brush, a few old lip glosses. And the bullets. They were at the bottom, too. All these things she’d forgotten about and none of which mattered. Well, that is to say, none of them mattered but the gun and the bullets. They mattered.
For a moment she wondered why the security sensors at work hadn’t gone off when she’d gone through them, then realized they might have been turned off or something. She kicked herself in the ass for not keeping a neater bag; and for not getting rid of the gun. Not to mention not changing her purse more often. She had around fifty high-end designer bags. And yet this was the one she had used every day for months. It was mainly because she didn’t have any extra time now that she was planning the wedding. The wedding… Would that happen now? With the way she looked? And what if… Oh, God, what if she didn’t get out of here? What if she never made it out? What if she never left Celeste’s country house? She had the gun now! She could kill her with it. And she could make up a story about how Kael was going to kill her. The bitch would get off scot-free. She was fucked, it was that simple, Kael was fucked.
“No! I was—” Kael started, panicking.
“You little bitch. And here I thought we were becoming friends.”
“No! My dad sent that to me! For protection, he said, because New York is, well, it’s New York! He’s always worried about me, that’s just the way he is. I was trying to figure out a way to get rid of it and then I forgot about it. I swear, it has nothing to do with you!”
Celeste sighed loudly and sat down in the chair wearily. She stared at Kael, then sighed again. She studied the gun and then moved her hand up and down, as if she were weighing it. “You know,” she said. “I’ve never shot a gun before. In fact, I’ve never touched one. It’s heavy, isn’t it? I like the way it feels in my hand. And the handle is beautiful. What is that? Pearl?”
“Yes,” Kael said.
Celeste glanced at her. “I guess your father taught you how to shoot a gun, didn’t he?”
Kael grimaced in pain from the burn then said, “I guess. Why?”
“I mean, he wouldn’t send you a gun if you didn’t know how to use one, would he?”
Kael knew what she was getting at it and it sent an even stronger sense of dread through her body. “It’s not like that, Celeste,” she told her. “That’s not why he sent the gun. He’s really old fashioned and he probably thought if he sent it, I’d be safe. That’s all. He was just concerned about my safety.”
Celeste pursed her lips as she listened to Kael’s explanation. “My father died when I was very young,” she said. “I never knew him. And my mother… Well, she just married and then divorced and remarried several times. All wealthy men. She never had a life other than that, not really. Just attending parties and whatnot. She lives, in my opinion, a very boring existence.”
Kael wondered what she was getting at.
“But neither my mother nor any of my step-fathers would have ever thought to send me a gun for protection,” she said. “It’s just not something people do, Kael.”
“My father is different than that,” Kael said. “And I did not come out here to hurt you. I swear, I didn’t.”
Celeste exhaled with annoyance. “Kael, I am not buying any of this,” she said. “I’m not stupid. Why else would he send you a gun? Did you tell him about me?”
“No!” Kael exclaimed, exasperated. “Why would I?”
Celeste shrugged, stood up then tossed the gun onto the dressing table and grabbed the tube of ointment, opened it and smeared it onto Kael’s skin. “Everyone talks about me. They’re like little gnats swarming in my ears. I don’t like people. I admire some people. But most, I don’t like at all. Never have. I am not, as they say, a people person.”
Kael exhaled with relief as the cream seemed relieve some of the pain. She could tell Celeste was becoming a little calmer, which was good. She had to keep her calm. She had to think of something that would take her mind off of torturing her, and off of the gun. So, she asked quickly, “What about your husband? Don’t you like him?”
She was done with the ointment; she tossed it onto the table and grabbed a tissue, wiping her hand off as she spoke, “You know that saying, if it’s too good to be true, it probably is? That’s my husband in a nutshell.”
“I’m sure he’s not that bad.”
“Well, you don’t know shit,” she said, shaking her head. “He’s fucking a hooker! A hooker! I found out! Not just a normal something on the side who works at his office or at the coffee shop, but a hooker. He pays someone to suck his cock. He uses our money to get off. Talk about insult to injury.”
“Is this why…?” Kael started but forced herself to stop, though this might be a good way to distract her. But you couldn’t just ask a woman if she went crazy because she found out her husband was hiring hookers, could you? That would be very impolite. But Kael wanted to know. Celeste was blaming her for her breakdown, she was sure, but she knew she wasn’t the real cause. They didn’t even know each other that well. Not even on a personal level. They’d barely had a conversation before the Jacob Anvil debacle. It had to be the husband’s fault and what kind of idiot does something like that and lets his wife find out? Didn’t he know her? He must have been the stupidest man on earth. Something like that would devastate any woman, but a woman like Celeste? It would… Well, it would make her act like this.
Celeste tossed
the tissue aside and said, “Why what?”
Kael stared at her, thinking she didn’t know if she wanted to open that can of worms. It might be best to just let this one go.
“Oh, you think I’m going off the deep end, don’t you?” Celeste asked. “Oh, Kael, you haven’t seen anything yet.”
Kael’s eyes widened. She quickly changed the subject, “How did you find out about the hooker?”
Celeste stood back and seemed to really think about it, then she said, “She called him on his phone, left a massage. I listened to the message and… Well, here we are.”
“So, what did you do? When you found out about the hooker?”
“Nothing. What could I do? Call him out? Risk losing half of my property? What the fuck do I care what he does with his cock or where he sticks it as long as he’s not sticking it to me?”
“That’s one way of looking at it,” Kael muttered.
“You’re such a smartass,” Celeste hissed, narrowing her eyes at Kael. “Oh, like you’re so innocent. Who are you to judge? You? You go around badmouthing me? You go around undermining me?”
“Is that what this is all about?” Kael asked, staring her dead in the eye.
Celeste responded with due sarcasm, “Well, as you so eloquently say, duh.”
Kael felt the agitation rise in her and it was hard to disguise it in her voice, “You know, I just get sick of this shit. People are such babies! You can’t look at them the wrong way without them blubbering and whining! I mean, grow up! Grow a pair! This is the way the world works!”
Her words seemed to really infuriated Celeste. “No, this is the way the world works.”
She reeled back and punched Kael in the face as hard as she could. Unfortunately for her, Celeste was wearing the huge diamond ring. Kael hollered with pain. In addition to everything else, she now had a swollen eye. It was so swollen, it was half-closed. And it hurt like hell.
Celeste stood back and observed Kael. “You know, it does feel really good to talk about all of this. Maybe I should have hired a psychologist instead of a fertility doctor.”