Fool's Gold

by Melody Carlson

  “Oh, Hannah!” she exclaims. “You look so hot in that outfit.”

  I can’t help but grin. “I know. It’s rather nice, isn’t it?”

  “Nice? It’s awesome. You are getting it!”

  Of course, I never looked at the price tags. Why bother, since I know it’s far too much for my pocketbook anyway? “No, I can’t possibly get it,” I tell her.

  “Yes, you can,” she insists. “You’re a working girl now and I know you got a draw yesterday.”

  “How much are they?” I ask as I try to find the tags, which seem to have vanished. I think Vanessa said they were Iceberg, which is another word for outrageously expensive.

  “Never mind that. You have to get this outfit. I almost forgot to tell you. There’s another party next Friday, a surprise birthday party for Clayton Stewart — ”

  “The volleyball guy?”

  She laughs. “Right, the volleyball guy. Anyway, Bryce and I are planning it, and you’ve got to come, and you’ve got to wear that outfit.”

  The salesclerk steps in now. “How is everything?”

  “She is absolutely getting that outfit,” says Vanessa.

  The clerk nods. “It looks fantastic on you. And that color with your hair and your tan is spectacular — ”

  “She needs to stay out of the sun, though,” says Vanessa in a hushed voice, as if I’m not even here. “It’s going to ruin her complexion.”

  The clerk nods. “Yes. We’ve got a new skin-care line you should look into,” she tells me. “Might help even that out.”

  “But seriously,” says Vanessa, “you look totally awesome in that outfit. If we find the right sandals and accessories, you’re going to make Wyatt forget about Felicia forever. I promise you.”

  I frown now. “You think Wyatt really cares about how girls dress?”

  She looks at me like I’ve gone daft. “Of course. How else do you think Felicia got his attention? Her wonderful personality?” I have to laugh at that.

  “Wyatt’s got good taste, Hannah. And even though his family is having some financial difficulties at the moment, that boy is used to the best, and eventually things will even out for them. But if you want to compete with someone like Felicia VanHorn, you’ve got to look the part. And you’ve got to get that outfit.” She looks down at what she’s tried on and frowns. “And this is definitely not going to work.”

  I nod and go back into the dressing room and look at my reflection again. I can’t deny that this outfit is awesome. But when I remove the garments, carefully, I find the tags. While I’m not shocked, since I’ve been down this road with Vanessa and Aunt Lori before, I know that they are too much for me. Feeling disappointed, I put them, carefully again, back on the hangers and go back out.

  “What do you think of this top?” asks Vanessa hopefully.

  “It’s nice,” I tell her.

  “Just nice?”

  “No, it’s actually rather lovely. And the stripes are quite slimming.”

  She smiles now. “That’s what I thought too. I guess I’ll get it.”

  I’m just putting my things back on the rack when the salesclerk appears. “I thought you wanted to get those,” she says.

  “Oh, I do,” I tell her. “I just can’t afford them.”

  She smiles. “Oh, it shouldn’t be about the money. Didn’t you see how awesome you looked in that outfit? You’re young and pretty, and you should enjoy that great shape while you’ve got it.”

  I glance at her, and while she’s older, maybe even thirty, she doesn’t look too bad herself. “Do you ever have sales?” I ask meekly.

  “This Iceberg line just came in. It’s actually for fall. I can’t imagine it would go on sale for quite some time.” She laughs. “And by then it would be gone.”

  Now Vanessa appears. “I want this top, and she’s getting that outfit.”

  “But Vanessa — ”

  “No buts, Hannah. It looked stunning on you. You’ve got to have it.”

  I finger the supple fabric for a moment, wondering how they make fabric so soft and pretty. Then I imagine Wyatt looking at me in this outfit — in that same way I’ve seen him look at Felicia before. And then I imagine Felicia seeing him looking at me like that. And, well, that just cinches the deal. “Okay,” I say, “I’ll get them.”

  Before we leave the shop, I’m enticed to purchase not only the two items but also a necklace and bracelet that both Vanessa and the clerk agree is perfect for the outfit and some skin-care products as well. The grand whopping total is $786.88. My hands shake as I write out the check. The clerk has to help me in filling out the blank counter check.

  “Don’t worry,” says Vanessa. “It’s good. My dad just gave her a draw yesterday.”

  Even so, the clerk has me show her my identification and put Vanessa’s charge card number on the back of my check. “Just in case there’s a problem,” she assures us.

  I think I’m in shock when we go looking for shoes — it’s back to Via Spiga again — but I don’t argue. And to be honest, although I’m in shock, I feel pretty good too. I can’t quite describe the feeling exactly, but it’s kind of like having power. Realizing that I can go and buy an outfit like this, one that’s every bit as nice as the kinds of things Felicia wears, makes me feel like we’re on the same playing field or something. And I think I’m feeling somewhat elated. Kind of a high, which makes me wonder if shopping is similar to taking drugs. Is it possible to become addicted?

  “Those shoes are perfect,” proclaims Vanessa when I try on a strappy pair with fairly high heels. “They make your legs look like they go on forever.” Then she frowns. “But we’ve got to get you in for a pedicure. No way can you wear shoes like that with toenails like those.”

  I curl my toes to try to cover up the chipped-up polish. “Must’ve been all the surfing.”

  “Right.”

  “She’ll take those,” she tells the shoe salesman.

  And so I write another check, this one for just over $200. My hands aren’t shaking so badly now, but I still feel this sense of nervous energy. Almost as if I’m committing a crime. Although I know that I’m not. I mean, I deposited the money yesterday. Still, I can’t help but realize that the $2,000 draw from yesterday is down to less than half that now. I take in a deep breath and smile as I thank the salesman and leave.

  “Isn’t this fun?” says Vanessa as we go to another one of her favorite stores.

  I smile and nod. “Yeah,” I say, “it actually is.”

  By the end of our shopping trip, Vanessa has found several items that seem to have pacified her anger, and she’s talked me into getting a new purse. “That orange thing from Ross is just not cutting it,” she told me. And I had to agree. So I wrote another check for $259 to buy a real Prada purse (it had been marked down from $429). “It’s a steal,” Vanessa assured me. “It’s only on sale because it was part of the spring line. But trust me, it’s a very cool style.”

  Then we stop to get a bite to eat. Vanessa treats, which is something of a relief because I’m starting to feel a bit worried about how quickly my money is disappearing. I’ve only worked one week, and what I’ve earned so far won’t even cover my draw. Still, I decide not to think about that. Instead I will think about Wyatt and how I plan to win his heart.

  sixteen

  I HAVE TO ADMIT THAT GOING TO WORK WITH MY NEW PRADA PURSE IN tow did make me feel like a million bucks this week. Both Carlita and Laticia noticed it right away on Monday. Then during break time I told them about the new outfit I bought on Sunday, giving them all the great details, and they were very enthused.

  “Way to go, girlfriend,” said Laticia as she gave me a high five. “You’re going to be one hot mama come Friday night.”

  “Have someone take a photo,” encouraged Carlita. “Then bring it back to show us.”

  “Better yet,” added Laticia with a wink, “why don’t you just bring us along?”

  Cynthia was off to the side, frowning. “You aren’t gettin
g in over your head, are you, Hannah?”

  The break room got quiet as I considered this. “No.” I said as confidently as possible. “I had the cash to cover it. I didn’t even use my cards. And I’m not planning on buying anything else,” I said with what I hoped sounded like true conviction.

  “That’s what you told me last week.”

  I sort of shrugged. “Well, I’m done now.” But on Tuesday Jessie and I stopped at a surf shop, and I bought a new bikini. At least it was on sale, and Mac, the guy who runs the place, guaranteed that it would stay put, even during the worst sort of wipeout.

  “And if it doesn’t?” asked Jessie, who was skeptical.

  “Then kudos to the lucky dudes who are around to witness it!” he said.

  So far the suit has stayed on. I met up with Wyatt and Jessie yesterday at Jessie’s beach house, and I had on the new bikini, which I think caught Wyatt’s eye. In any case, I felt like I had his undivided attention.

  Although we only surfed for a little while, we had a great time, and it was fantastic to see him. Even so, we all agreed that the wave action wasn’t too impressive.

  “You gotta let me take you to Sleepy Hollow,” he told me suddenly. Then I guess he remembered Jessie was there too. “It’s great, isn’t it, Jess? We should all go over there together and catch some waves.”

  “Sounds great,” I told him. “When?”

  He looked at his watch and frowned. “Not today. It’s getting too late. But how about tomorrow?” Then he told us where to meet him (near the same place where I got my surfing bikini), and it was settled.

  I suppose that’s another reason I dressed up a bit more than usual for work today. And as I’m driving the Jeep with the top down, wearing my Fendi shirt and my Armani pants, my beach bag full of goodies and my Becker board in back — I am once again feeling like a million bucks. And I’m feeling more and more like I belong here. Other than my accent, which is fading, I think I can pass for a California girl. Oh, I’m not as cool as Vanessa or Felicia, but I can hold my own with Jessie. Not that she makes me work too hard at that. In fact, of all the people I know here, she seems the most genuine. But maybe she doesn’t have to try so hard since she’s rich. I’m not sure.

  When I pull into the parking lot where we planned to meet, I feel like I’m starring in my own movie as I climb from the Jeep, push the hair from my face, adjust my shades, and wave toward where Wyatt and Jessie are waiting.

  “We’re having smoothies,” calls Jessie from where she’s standing in line at a kiosk. “What do you want?”

  Wyatt comes up to greet me, surprising me with a big hug. “You look mahvahlous, dahling,” he says with an appreciative grin. “But I thought we were going surfing.”

  “I just got off work,” I tell him. “Haven’t had a chance to change yet.”

  “I bet Mac will let you change in there,” he says, pointing to Mac’s Shack.

  “Yeah, I’m sure he will since he’s the one who talked me into buying this guaranteed-never-to-wipe-out bikini.”

  “And was he right?” I can see a glimmer of mischievous hope in his eyes.

  “So far.”

  “Too bad.”

  I playfully sock him in the arm and go over to talk to Jessie. “What’re you having?” I ask her.

  “I’m having the ginger orange and Wyatt’s having the key lime.”

  I consider this. “I’ll have the key lime too,” I tell her as I dig a five out of my wallet. “I’m going into Mac’s Shack to change.”

  She laughs. “Make sure that curtain’s closed. You know how Mac is.”

  So I run back to the Jeep, grab my bag, and go into Mac’s Shack.

  “Oh, no!” he says when he sees me. “Don’t tell me it came off.”

  “No. I’m perfectly happy with it.”

  “Whew.” He acts dramatically relieved. “So maybe I can sell you another?”

  “Actually, I was hoping I could use a dressing room. I’m straight off work and we’re going surfing and — ”

  “Help yourself.” He waves me to the back. “Mi casa es su casa.”

  I can hear him whistling as I change, which is something of a relief since it tells me he’s up front in the shop, and I’m still not sure whether Jessie’s joke was factual or not. I take care with my nice shirt and pants, carrying them over my arm like a fancy waiter would as I go back outside.

  “Now that’s better,” he says when he sees me emerge. I’ve got a pair of low-rise Tommy shorts over my bikini but still feel a bit exposed, although most girls don’t even bother with shorts. I think I’m still a bit old-fashioned.

  “Hey, Mac,” calls Wyatt as he comes into the shadowy shop. “What’s up?”

  “I got those new Billabong shades you were asking for.”

  “No way.”

  “Way.”

  “Man, I gotta see those.”

  So, wondering what Billabong shades are, I follow Wyatt and Mac over to the sunglasses racks. Mac pulls out a pair and holds them up.

  “Man, those are even better than I thought.” Wyatt tries them on and turns to show me. “Pretty cool, huh?”

  “Very cool,” I say as I pick up a similar pair. “And I actually like the name a bit too.”

  “I reckon you would, mate.”

  Then I slip the sunglasses on and show him.

  “Alright,” he says as he gives me a thumbs-up. “Way better than those old blue things you’ve been wearing.”

  I don’t let it show that his insult hurts me. Maybe, like Felicia, he’s not a Tommy fan. Then I take off the Billabongs and look for the price. “How much are they, Mac?”

  “Let me go look. I just got ‘em in and haven’t even put the price on yet.” So we follow him back to a cluttered counter where he digs out some papers, puts on some glasses, and tries to figure it out. “Looks like they’ll run you sixty bucks.”

  “Each?” I say stupidly.

  Mac laughs. “That’s not a bad price considering I’ve got some Oakleys under the counter that go for more than $200.”

  “Yeah, I’ve got a pair of those,” says Wyatt. “But they’re too nice for surfing. These Billabongs are perfect.”

  I try them on again and go over to the window to look outside. “They do fit nicely,” I say, giving my head a shake. “I like how they wrap around and don’t let any sun in.”

  “Tell you what,” says Mac. “I’ll give you a discount if you both buy a pair. Say 10 percent off? How’s that sound?”

  “I’m a little short on cash today, Mac,” says Wyatt in a wistful voice. “But thanks for the offer.”

  “Oh, right,” I say as I walk up to the counter. “I lose my discount just because Wyatt’s not getting his today?” I set my clothes aside and pull out my checkbook. Then I turn to Wyatt. “Why don’t you let me get them for you?”

  “Oh, I couldn’t — ”

  “Look, you can pay me back later if you’d like. But that way we both get the discount and you can have your sunnies today.”

  He smiles and turns to Mac. “Isn’t my little Aussie girl the greatest?”

  So I pay Mac, and Jessie arrives with the drinks in a tray just as we’re leaving. “That took like forever,” she says. “Hey, nice shades.”

  “You want some?” asks Wyatt. “Mac will probably give you the group discount.”

  “Nah,” she says. “I’ve got some that work just fine.”

  “Can I lock my stuff in your car?” I ask Jessie. “I forgot that I’ve got the top down and — ”

  “Why don’t you put them in my car?” says Wyatt. “Then we can put all the boards on top of the Jeep and ride together. I’ve got lots of bungee cords in back.”

  So I put my things in the backseat of his sporty blue Honda, trying not to snoop as I do it. But all I see are a wadded-up beach towel, which probably can’t smell too great, a pair of rubber thongs, and a beat-up ball cap. Nothing too revealing. And the next thing I know I am driving the Jeep with Wyatt next to me and Jessie in the
backseat. We’re all drinking our smoothies, and I feel alive and carefree and excited.

  “You like key lime too?” asks Wyatt.

  I nod. “Yeah, it’s really bonza.”

  He holds up his cup. “To bonza!”

  Sleepy Hollow turns out to be really great and not too crowded either. “It’s way better to come during the week,” says Wyatt as we paddle out. Then he turns and grins at me. “Cool shades, Hannah.”

  I laugh as I admire his matching ones. “Cool shades, Wyatt.”

  “Thought you called them sunnies.”

  “Right-o. Cool sunnies! Ya feel better now?”

  He nods. “Hey, Jess, don’t you feel left out of the club without Billabong shades?”

  She kind of laughs. “I’m not sure I want to be in that particular club.”

  Now I’m feeling a bit guilty, like maybe I’m making her feel left out. So for the rest of the afternoon, I sort of bob back and forth between them, hoping that I’m keeping them both happy. Finally we’ve done about all the damage possible to that lovely beach and decide it’s time to get going.

  We’re all rather quiet as I drive us back to the meeting spot, so I turn on the radio. “I’m not sure what the best station is,” I say to Wyatt. “What do you listen to?”

  So he changes it and turns it up, and although it’s not my favorite sort of music (a bit too much head thumping going on), I pretend to like it.

  “I’ve got to run,” says Jessie as soon as we’re back. “I completely forgot that I’m supposed to have dinner with the folks tonight, and Carrie gets grumpy if people are late. Not that I blame her; she’s a pretty good cook. This was great! Let’s do it again.”

  “Definitely,” says Wyatt as he removes her board and gives it to her.

  “See you tomorrow?” I call as she takes off.

  “Yeah, later, Hannah.”

  “What’s tomorrow?” asks Wyatt as he takes down his own board and leans it against the Jeep.

  “Oh, you know, there’s that party for Clayton’s eighteenth birthday.”

  “Yeah, I almost forgot. Bryce called me about that this week. And you’re going?”

  “According to my cousin I am.”

  He comes around to where I’m still sitting in the driver’s seat. “So you and she and Bryce are doing a little threesome or something?”