by Megan Rose
“That’s why you should tell me! I’m your best friend – I’ll help you. Come on, we tell each other everything. I told you when I had a crush on Dexter Yorks in the eleventh grade, for heaven’s sake. Whatever happened to you cannot be more embarrassing than that.”
“I think it can.”
“He carried Pokemon cards in his pocket and asked people to call him Ash.”
“Okay, that’s pretty bad. But this is too. I promise I’ll tell you soon, okay? Just not right now…Basically, I went off partying with a bunch of people and got a little carried away. That’s really all you need to know, anyway.”
“Partying? What kind of partying? You don’t go partying without me, and even that’s rare. Will you just tell me already?”
“Mayra,” Lacey looked her in the eye, “I am not going to tell you anything right now. Please just respect that and get back to gossiping about Lana and her magically-enhanced boobs.”
Mayra smiled. “Okay.” She looked at her watch. “But we only have, like, twenty minutes and then we have to stop back at your apartment and get you something else to wear.” Lacey rolled her eyes and collected Mayra’s empty cup.
She walked over to the trash and thought maybe if she actually did throw up she wouldn’t have to go to work. It was worth a shot. She chugged half of her drink down and heard the liquid slosh around in her stomach as she bounced up and down on her heels. No, she wasn’t going to throw up. Now she was just going to feel sick all day. Great.
✽✽✽
After work, Lacey raced into her house and threw her stuff down on the couch. She whipped open her purse and dug around for her cell phone. Mark hadn’t been at his store when she left the salon, so she figured she’d come back to her apartment to get changed and call him so they could meet for dinner. If he wanted to, that was. It was just an idea.
Just as she fished her phone out of her purse, she heard the sound of a door opening. Peering around the corner, she glanced down the hall and saw that the bathroom light was on and the door was slightly ajar.
“Who’s there?” she called. She heard a man laugh. “Mark, is that you? What are you doing here?” She dropped her phone back in her purse and set her purse on the couch.
“What do you mean what am I doing here?” Mark strolled down the hallway and folded his arms over his chest.
“I figured, you know, I’m all better…so you should be at your house. Everything’s back to normal.” Mark stared at her.
“You’re all better?” he said.
“Well…yeah.” Lacey shrugged.
“So you want me to just go home then?” He looked like she was testing his patience. Why did he look like that? She was being the rational one.
“I mean, I was going to call you to see if you wanted to get dinner or something, but we don’t have to – “
“Lacey,” Mark said as he walked into the kitchen, “first of all, you’re not all better.” Lacey began to protest, but Mark cut her off. “Taking one pill does not make you all better. You still look miserable.”
“I’m not. Look, I’m even wearing nice clothes.” (Which no one had complimented her on, by the way. Except Mayra, and that was only because she had picked them out.)
“Yeah, because of Lana’s new rules.”
“You knew about that?” Why was she the last to find out about everything?
“Yes, and I didn’t tell you because I figured you were depressed enough as it was.” He picked up his keys and grabbed his sunglasses from the counter. “You’re still not a fully functional human being.”
“I am! I am so a fully functional human being!” She resisted the urge to stomp her foot like a little kid.
“Okay, so if I leave right now and you stay here, what are you going to do for the rest of the night?”
“I’m going to…probably I’ll call someone to talk…and I’ll order some food and…eat it…and…”
“No, you’ll lie on the couch and stare at the TV until you fall asleep. Then you’ll oversleep tomorrow morning ‘cause you won’t have set an alarm.”
“That is not at all what I would do!” Mark put his hands on his hips. “I was thinking more along the lines of lying in my bed. And maybe I’d have some ice cream. Maybe.”
“I’m not going to let you starve to death because you haven’t got anybody to force you to eat. Which is what we’re going to do right now. And we’re going to get whatever you’re in the mood for, that way maybe you’ll eat it.”
“I’m in the mood for sleep,” Lacey said. “I don’t feel well today. My stomach’s bothering me, and why don’t we just stay here and order something? That’s what I was going to suggest anyway.”
“No, we’re going out, where you have to order something and you have to eat it or else you’ll look rude.”
“So controlling…” Lacey picked her purse up off of the couch and swung it over her arm. “You know, I’m about to get really busy,” she said. “Mayra wants to get married before the fall semester, because she’s planning on taking, like, a million classes all at once.” Mark grabbed his keys and they went out the front door.
“Does it mean I’m a bad friend if I don’t even know how many degrees she's going for and what they’re for? I think she's studying two majors and one minor. If you study two different majors does that mean you get two different Bachelor degrees?...What are you doing?"
Mark pulled a key from his key ring and locked Lacey’s front door. “Locking your door.”
“Where did you get that?” She pulled the keys out of his hand and examined them. Then, she pulled her keys out of her own purse.
“Did you take my key?” Lacey’s key chain had exactly two keys on it – one for her house and one for her mailbox, and both were still attached to her wooden dinosaur key chain that she made in shop class in the tenth grade. (It was the one thing she did in that class that she was actually proud of – the bird house she had attempted to make had to be condemned.)
“No,” Mark said as he took his key chain from her and put it back. “I made a copy. Before you call me a creep,” he said very quickly, “you never lock your door and I figured if I had a key maybe your door would be locked at least some of the time, and there would be less of a chance of one of your less-than-friendly neighbors breaking into your apartment to vandalize your place after you opened your front door one time after ten at night.”
“Oh, how thoughtful and not creepy at all...” Lacey gave him an exaggerated smile and rolled her eyes when he looked away. “Anyway,” she said as she heaved herself up into his truck, “Like I said, I’m going to be really busy now, because we’ve got a wedding to plan and we have less than two months.”
“That sounds like ample amount of time,” he said and started the car. Lacey stared at him. “What? Is it not?”
“No way, it’s not! Most people take at least a year! Mayra’s a crazy overachiever as it is, so everything’s going to have to be perfect and we hardly have any time. I don’t even know if I fit into that dress I'm supposed to wear anymore, I bought it so long ago, and –"
“If you don’t fit into the dress, then wear something else. You’re way too skinny as it is and I’m not letting you go back home tonight until you’ve eaten at least a hamburger and fries.”
“Mark! I gave up my juice diet! Isn’t that enough? That’s not even the point. This day is about Mayra, not me. I’m probably going to be staying late at work and stuff so we can plan. So, I don’t know if you…if you’re…” She trailed off.
What was she supposed to say? What came to mind was, “Do you mind?” but why should she ask him that? Why would he mind? It’s not like they were together or anything. The next question that came to mind was, “Are we living together?”
“What?” Mark said.
“What?” Lacey stared straight ahead. Had she said that out loud?
“Did you ask if we’re living together?”
She started to laugh. It was funny, really. Maybe if she laughed, he wo
uld laugh and then they would leave the subject on a note of ambiguity and there wouldn’t have to be any awkwardness. But he wasn’t laughing.
“Lacey,” he pulled over to the side of the road and turned to face her. Oh God. He was going to make it awkward. I like you, I just don’t like like you. She knew it was coming and she suddenly felt really stupid. Just because he was there when she got home from work today didn’t mean he would be every day. He just wanted to make sure she had something to eat for dinner. Great. Now she was going to cry.
“You know what? I didn’t even mean to say that. Just forget I said anything. Of course we’re not living together. I mean, you have your own place. I was just thinking out loud and…”
“Lacey,” he said again, “I won’t stay with you if you don’t want me to. But you don’t seem to understand how bad you can get sometimes, especially if you’re alone. You’re my friend. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” There it was. She was his friend. He was just babysitting her to make sure she didn’t go stick her fingers in an electrical socket or jump off a building or something.
“You know what, Mark? I don’t need you to babysit me, okay? I’m perfectly fine on my own.” And then she began sobbing hysterically. “You just…don’t want to be,” sob, “responsible. Well,” she pulled a tissue out of her purse and blew her nose violently, “I am releasing you of all responsibility. Go on and live your life the way you want to. Go run your store,” she honked again, “and drive your big, stupid truck,” she crumpled up the tissue and threw it out the window, “and go…go on a bunch of dates for all I care! You’re free of me now, okay? I know I kind of forced myself on you when we first met. I was an emotional wreck.”
A waterfall of mascara was pooling on her skirt and her nose was running like she was a little kid with a cold. “But I’m much better now, okay?! MUCH better! I’m taking those pills and they're working wonders for me! I went to work, and I was nice to Lana, and I talked to Mayra about her wedding without getting all jealous of her intelligence or beauty or luck or anything. And if I don’t want to lock my door, then I don’t have to, Mark! Okay?
“Maybe I like to leave it unlocked. Maybe someday someone will just break in while I’m asleep and just kill me because that’s really what everyone wants, isn’t it? I’m useless anyway, aren’t I? There’s no one who needs me. I’m the one who does all the needing. If I were dead, it would probably just be a great relief to you and everyone else who’s always so worried about me because I’m so CRAZY! Okay, and just because I’ve gotten slightly upset here, does not mean that you’re right and you have to take care of me, okay? Because you don’t! You just don’t! I’m perfectly fine on my own! And this tiny little upset proves NOTHING! I am PERFECTLY, ONE-HUNDRED PERCENT STABLE! AND DON’T TELL ME I’M NOT BECAUSE I WILL DRIVE THIS CAR INTO THE NEAREST BRICK WALL!”
Lacey sat back and took a breath. She felt a little better. Wiping her eyes, she glanced over at Mark, who looked shell-shocked. Really, she was just telling him how she felt, it was no big deal. She had thrown a tissue out the window, hadn’t she? That was littering. She hated it when people littered. Her seatbelt unbuckled, she reached for the door handle and started to open the car door.
“Lacey, wait!” She hopped down on the ground and looked around for her tissue. There it was. Stuck in the sandy dirt and already covered with ants. Maybe she would just leave it there for now. It wasn’t really litter. The ants seemed to be using it as some sort of…giant bean bag chair. Well, look at that. She got upset and she actually contributed to society a little bit, giving the ants a little gift. She was feeling much better. A hamburger actually sounded pretty good. Maybe she’d order a shake too. She could start her diet tomorrow.
“Lacey!” While she had been planning her next meal, Mark had scurried around the car with a frantic look on his face. “Stop!” Lacey stood there, puzzled. She wasn’t going anywhere. “We’ll just go home, okay? We’ll watch a movie and order something to eat. Just get back in the car and I’ll turn right around.” Okay, he looked seriously freaked out. What was his problem? She was perfectly fine.
“Mark…” she said as he took a step toward her and put his hands on her shoulders. He began slowly steering her back towards the car.
“Watch your head.”
“What?”
He pushed her into the truck like a cop puts a criminal in the back seat and buckled her seatbelt for her. “Stay there,” he said as he closed her car door. She saw him sprint over to the other side of the car and get in on the driver’s side. “Do you need any more tissues?” He looked like he desperately wanted to fix whatever was wrong but didn’t know how. She had to tell him, she didn’t need fixing anymore. She was feeling a thousand times better.
“No, I have some,” she said and she reached into her purse for her little mini pack of Kleenex. “Mark, I thought we were going to get burgers. Can’t we still go? I want to get a shake too I think. Actually, if we go to a diner then I can get a piece of pie too maybe. If that’s okay. If you don’t want to be out that long, that’s fine, I just figured I’d ask, because now that I think about it I’m kind of in the mood for peach pie and I think that would go really well with a chocolate milkshake.
“You know what we should ask for? That sauce for the fries that’s like ketchup and mayonnaise. Someone told me one time that that was McDonald’s special sauce, but then I saw on The Barefoot Contessa that it’s actually French dressing. Do you think that’s right? I know French dressing’s orange, but I just can’t imagine a salad covered in ketchup and mayonnaise. What do you think?”
Mark looked paralyzed from shock. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly and he stared at Lacey as if she were a ghost. “Mark? What do you think?”
“Um…okay, sure. We’ll go to a diner. Then, let’s go home. And promise me you’ll just go to bed and lie down. Maybe even go to sleep for the night?” He looked like he was waiting for a bomb to explode. What was his problem?
“Okay, yeah. I’m pretty tired. I have a lot to do tomorrow with Mayra for the wedding anyway. Blake said he doesn’t care what we do as long as all he has to do is show up at the church in a tux, say “I do,” dance with his wife, and then fly her off to wherever he’s planning on taking her for their honeymoon.” Mark still looked like he had just inhaled a bug. “Mark? You’re okay, right?”
“Yeah!” His voice cracked. “Great. Let’s just go get some food, then we’ll go home.” He kept saying that. “We’ll go home.” So she guessed they were living together. Friends could do that, right? She thought about “Three’s Company.” That was back when that kind of thing was basically socially unacceptable. Alright, so they’d be friends who lived together. Maybe they’d be like “The Odd Couple.” Maybe they’d get their own TV show. Maybe Lacey would get famous. Man, Lana was going to hate her so much.
“And it’s Russian,” Mark said.
“What?” Maybe Mark was the crazy one.
“It’s Russian dressing.”
Chapter 10
The next week or so passed without many problems. Lacey worked on the wedding with Mayra, Mark made another appointment for Lacey with the psychiatrist (though she didn’t quite know why – she was feeling great), and Lana took every opportunity available to punish Lacey for dating Billy Gibbs in the tenth grade. Miranda Welles was her new regular – the little 10-year-old girl whose mom must have paid no attention to her, because her hair was a black ball of tangled-up grease, thick and heavy as can be, peppered with white flakes.
When she wasn’t cutting Miranda’s hair, she was cutting the hair of some old lady. They were even worse than Miranda – they knew what they wanted and why they wanted it and how they wanted it. The problem was they didn’t know how to do it. So they bossed Lacey around until she got frustrated enough that she cut a little chunk off the back – not so much that they would notice, but enough that Lacey would know.
As August rolled around, preparations for the wedding took over The Mad Cutte
r. Since Lana went to school for interior design after quitting (flunking out of) cosmetology school, Mayra was letting her decorate the hall where the reception would be (and, unfortunately, was letting her come to the wedding as well). The Mad Cutter had become more of a wedding planning-hub than a hair salon. They still had customers, but they had become kind of consultants.
Any questions about cake could be directed to Olivia Thornton, who ran the bakery in the grocery store and came in to get her hair done about once a week. They were ordering from a different bakery, but Olivia had helped design and plan the whole thing. Chandra Johnson, who came in frequently to get her eyebrows done, was a 17-year-old party-planner-to-be. She had solutions for the seating arrangements, centerpieces, music, everything. And Mayra’s mom, who was the secretary at the church where Mayra would be married, had suddenly started coming to get her hair done once or twice a week. (Mayra was so busy, her time at the salon was really the only time she had to discuss the wedding, and there was no way Mrs. Talia was being left out of that conversation.)
Lacey was working part-time, but she was able to stay there to help with wedding details as long as she swept up hair or did some other tedious task for free.
Lacey and Mark were still living together, as it was taking longer than Lacey would have liked to feel better. Every once in a while she had a really good day and she would be hopeful that it was the medicine finally doing its job.
The next day, though, you could usually find her slumped over at her hair dressing station, picking pieces of hair off of the floor and chopping them into oblivion. Mark tried to remind her that they hadn’t even reached the doctor’s ideal amount of medicine, but it was hard to wait two weeks between any increases.
It wasn’t uncommon for Mark to come home and find Lacey in a state of distress. One night, Lacey had ordered Chinese food while Mark was on his way home from work. When he got home the food was sitting on the table and about twenty pairs of chopsticks littered the living room.