Beautiful Together

by Andrea Wolfe

  Thinking about him.

  When I left after the funeral, I wanted something to be set in stone other than Mason's death.

  That something turned out to be the estrangement from my parents.

  Eventually, I would have needed my birth certificate or social security card, and there was no way around it. Something would have required me to have one or the other, and this issue would have undoubtedly arisen.

  So now was as good of a time as any to figure it out. Mason would have hated my indecision.

  I put the necklace away, grabbed my cell phone, and scrolled through my contacts until I found my dad. I pressed call like I was reaching into a meat grinder with my bare hands to recover a dropped earring, praying that it wouldn't suddenly turn on and turn my fingers into mush.

  It was late enough in the day that he would be home, probably propped up in his recliner watching stock market shows. It seemed as though full hours passed between each droning ring. I nearly gave up at ring number four.

  After two more, it went to voicemail.

  "Shit," I muttered. I didn't want to leave a voicemail after so long without proper communication. It seemed too impersonal.

  I ended the call and took a deep breath.

  Buzz!

  I hit the green button without looking.

  "Hello?"

  "Hey, hon," my dad said. "Sorry, my phone fell into my chair. I could feel it vibrating but I couldn't find it."

  I laughed at the thought of my dad scrambling to find his phone before he missed the call. I had definitely seen it happen before. The image softened me.

  "That's fine," I said. "Is everything going okay?" I wasn't sure if I actually cared, but it felt like the right thing to ask.

  "Yeah, yeah," he said. "Mom's got a cold, but other than that, I can't complain."

  I listened to him talk, but I didn't make much sense out of his words; I was bracing myself for the inevitable So what have you been up to? question the whole time.

  "Is everything okay with you?" he asked, almost confirming my suspicions.

  "Yeah, I'm good, I guess."

  "Good. I'm really happy to hear from you."

  I was shocked to hear him back down.

  "Uh, so I need a favor, dad," I said as warmly as possible. "I need my birth certificate and social security card."

  "Okay, sure," he said. "I can send them out first thing tomorrow. We've got that stuff in the fireproof safe in the closet."

  Once again, he wasn't digging any deeper and it threw me off. "I'm... uh, going to London with Arielle," I blurted out awkwardly, as if he had actually asked. "So I need it for that."

  "Oh, really? That should be great," he said. "I always wanted to visit England. Maybe after I retire." He laughed.

  We both fell silent. The interaction was proving to be entirely painless, almost to the point of discomfort. It felt incredibly strange.

  "Should I give you my address or something?"

  "I've already got it," he said. "Curt gave it to me a while back. In case of an emergency."

  A whooshing sound ripped through my head as reality seemed to briefly fragment and shatter. "Wait, really?"

  All of my fears of them tracking me down were gone. He'd had my address this whole time and hadn't done anything with it? What the hell was going on?

  I suddenly realized that I actually was an adult. I wasn't living under their roof and rules anymore. The years had flown by, and now my dad was treating me like a real adult.

  This was huge.

  "Yeah. I ran into him at a Chamber of Commerce event and he gave it to me. For the new place. Something on South Oxford, if I remember correctly."

  I nodded. "Yeah, that's the one." I breathed slowly. I felt really good and really bad simultaneously. "Do I... ever get any mail?"

  "Sometimes," he said. "We save it in a box. But I didn't want to freak you out and send it all unannounced." He stopped and cleared his throat. "Naomi, I want you to know that I really regret what happened here, but I can't change it now. I mean, I understand why you left. I respect your decision. But I'm still sorry for not sticking up for you."

  "Thanks, dad," I said. "I mean, it's okay." Tears formed in my eyes and I quickly brushed them away. I took a gulp of water. "I don't really know what I'm doing with my life," I admitted, surprising myself. "I mean, if you're wondering. I'm just working."

  "At least you've got a job," he said. "A lot of people don't even have that."

  I smiled. "I guess you're right."

  "If you ever need to talk, I'm here for you," he added. "And I'll get that sent out first thing tomorrow morning."

  "Yeah, yeah," I said. "Thanks so much."

  "Have a good time in London." The conversation I was so terrified of was wrapping up brilliantly.

  "Thanks," I said. "I've gotta go, dad. Thanks so much."

  He said his farewell and then it was over. So easy I couldn't even comprehend it.

  The sadness crept up again, like huge storm clouds blotting out the sun. I dropped my phone on the desk and limply walked back to the living room. As soon as I saw Arielle, I started crying.

  "Oh shit," she said immediately. "What's up now? Did I screw up?"

  "We're g-going to London!" I blubbered excitedly. I tried to smile, but the urge to frown kept winning out.

  Arielle ran over and hugged me. "Aww, then why are you crying?"

  "I don't know!" I whined. "Everything went perfectly. He's mailing the stuff to me tomorrow."

  "I think this calls for a celebration!" she said.

  And we definitely celebrated.

  23

  Everything went smoothly with my passport after I showed up with the proper documentation. I paid extra to expedite the process, and a week later, I had my shiny new passport in hand, ready to get my first stamp ever in England.

  As the weeks passed, we planned out the details of our Halloween costumes, excited for the big party. Arielle knew this guy—correction: she had slept with him a few times—who had an awesome apartment in the West Village with an open rooftop terrace.

  Although our first idea was to dress up as people from popular TV shows, Arielle started getting pissed off after noticing how many "sexy" costumes there were when we went into Halloween stores. It was incredibly difficult to find anything for women that wasn't labeled as "sexy."

  Sexy nurses. Sexy doctors. Sexy aliens. Sexy cops. Sexy lawyers. The list went on and on and on.

  Given the fact Arielle was a serious feminist, I wasn't surprised at all.

  "Why the hell can't we be unsexy?" she snarled.

  "I don't know," I said.

  "The labeling is so oppressive," Elise added.

  "I've got it, dudes," Arielle said suddenly, grinning huge.

  Elise raised her eyebrow salaciously. "What, you'll be a sexy prosecutor and I'll be a sexy defense attorney? And then Naomi can be the sexy judge?"

  "No," she scolded. "Even worse—we'll be sexy objects! It'll be great. Nothing you'd expect to see. It's like a big fuck you to the costume industry for being so sexist."

  "What does that even mean?" I asked. "'Sexy objects?' Like a bag of chips or something?"

  Her face lit up like a neon light. "Hell yeah!" Arielle shouted. "Perfect. A bag of chips. Uh, a filing cabinet. A sexy laptop. A sexy pair of shoes."

  "What about a sexy bathtub?" Elise asked. "Or a sexy piano?"

  "If you can make it, you can be it," Arielle said, giggling.

  Finally, we had a plan. The inspiration had arrived.

  ***

  As vapid as parties could be, I knew this Halloween one would be something special. The location was killer, and now that we had our costumes figured out, all we had to do was make them.

  We slowly gathered supplies throughout the course of the week until we had everything we needed. Arielle would be a sexy filing cabinet, Elise would be a sexy block of Swiss cheese, and I would be a sexy laptop.

  It was both the worst and best idea ever.


  By the time Arielle had her cabinet assembled, I realized I was going to have to step up my game—she actually had functioning cardboard drawers!

  They would slide in and out as she walked, revealing sexy glimpses of flesh. We all loved it.

  I went to work building a frame that would act as the screen. I put white paper in the back, and painted it to look like a Skype window and I'd be in the middle. I was a laptop with a sexy cam girl on the screen.

  And then I made a small cardboard keyboard and attached it to the front. Although my "laptop" couldn't be closed—Arielle had definitely outdone me since her filing cabinet basically worked—it still looked great. It was my most creative costume ever.

  Elise definitely had the easiest task. She painted several large pieces of cardboard white and taped them into a typical wedge shape, then cut holes for her arms and head. She finished it by adding the extra holes that would normally be in the cheese. Beneath was a bikini that almost matched the color of the outside.

  After she had it assembled, she strutted around the room, showing off. Her already incredibly long legs somehow looked even longer extending out of the bottom, and it made us all laugh.

  Finally, around midnight on Thursday night, we finished. We got drunk and goofed around in our ridiculous costumes. Everything looked great. The effort was totally worth it.

  And the party was only two days away. After that, Arielle and I would head to London. Things were looking good.

  Maybe I'd meet some cute guy at the party and really hit it off. My dry spell would finally end. I'd become close with my mom and dad again.

  Well, maybe that was too ambitious.

  ***

  After work on Saturday, I headed home to get ready for the party. We had a couple of beers and blasted dance music while we got ready.

  I put on a push-up bra, a dark blue top, and some black leggings that matched the outer color of my laptop, wanting something warmer than just a bra and panties. After a quick make up job, we all took some photos together and posted them on Facebook.

  Halloween was in full swing, and we looked ridiculous.

  We were the sexiest laptop, wedge of cheese, and filing cabinet that had ever walked the earth. The looks we got on the street were priceless.

  Arielle had a distinct advantage because she could close herself up with her functioning drawers. And if they got too annoying, she could take them out and still be both sexy and a filing cabinet minus drawers.

  I almost put a layer of cling wrap over the outside of my screen to make it look glossy, but I realized I probably would have suffocated or fogged it up so much that I might have accidentally stumbled off the roof and fallen to my death.

  It was cool outside, but not unbearable.

  We packed onto the busy train, fitting between groups of the undead and comic book heroes. There were unicorns and Elvises and goblins. It was one of the strangest train rides of my life.

  When we got to the neighborhood, we could already see and hear the party on the rooftop. Arielle called her friend on the intercom and he buzzed us up. "This is gonna be so killer," Arielle said in the elevator.

  "I hope so," Elise said. "We spent so much time on these costumes. If people don't appreciate them, I'm gonna be pissed."

  I laughed. I didn't have anything else to add. The night had already been crazy and we hadn't even gotten to the party yet.

  The elevator dinged about twenty seconds later, and then we walked down the hall to the apartment. From outside, we could already hear the commotion and consistent thud of dance music.

  Arielle knocked on the door until it suddenly swung open, the sound from the inside overtaking us like a huge wave on the beach.

  "Hey, beautiful!" the host said. He was dressed up as Dexter Morgan, wearing his classic brown kill shirt, bloody apron, and black gloves, one hand clutching a glass of champagne. He was actually shorter than Elise by a couple inches.

  "Hi, Toby!" Arielle called. She moved forward to hug him, but quickly stopped after remembering her giant costume. The automatic movement and then subsequent correction of behavior made me laugh a lot harder than it should have. "Toby, this is Elise and Naomi! Elise and Naomi, this is Toby!"

  "Hi, Toby!" we said together. Although Toby was attractive, he was no Michael C. Hall. But in the costume, he looked pretty close. He was probably in his early thirties, short red hair, light blue eyes, and a muscular build.

  "So nice to meet you ladies. You all look incredible. But what the hell are you supposed to be?" He gave us a drawn out, overly quizzical look.

  Arielle boldly put her hands on her hips and it shook her entire costume. "We're taking a stance against the objectification of women by costume makers by purposely—and willingly—making basic objects sexy. You're a guy so you probably don't even realize that like ninety-nine percent of female costumes are labeled with the term 'sexy.' It's gone too far! We won't allow it anymore." After she finished her protest, she quieted down. "I'm a filing cabinet, she's a wedge of cheese, and she's a laptop. All sexy as hell."

  Toby nodded and laughed. "So what, are you gonna burn your bras next?" He gave her a super sleazy look.

  Arielle scoffed. "Toby, will you shut up? This is a serious issue."

  "Sorry," he said, grinning. "But I think I get your point. I saw pictures of a sexy Scrabble board costume online the other day on some blog. Just put Scrabble pieces on a snug dress, show some cleavage, and you've got a 'sexy' costume."

  "It's bullshit," Elise added obediently.

  "Okay, well, as much as I'd love to talk about gender inequality issues with you in the hall all night, I think we should go inside. There are drinks and snacks in the kitchen. I actually brought over one of my chef friends to make hors d'oeuvres and a bartender friend to make drinks."

  "Hell yeah!" Arielle said. She looked over at both of us. "Let's have some fun, girls!"

  The music got louder as we walked inside, but not unbearably loud since it was coming from the roof. We weaved between all kinds of crazy costumes, and it felt just like the subway ride. Aliens, more zombies, vampires, police officers, mobsters...

  We went straight to the kitchen. The guy making the drinks was dressed up in this sort of Albert Einstein/mad scientist costume with a puffy white wig, mixing ingredients in glass vials and then pouring the concoctions into proper glasses. It was a very nice touch.

  After grabbing some homemade puff pastries and spinach and cheese pies, we mingled for a bit with random people. Arielle kept making the same girl power speech to every guy that asked us about our costumes. I was shocked that she still had a voice after repeating it so many times.

  Guys kept complimenting my costume, and I kept on thanking them.

  As usual, Elise started aggressively hitting on the nearest guy that was taller than her since that was one of her dating requirements.

  "It's too hot in here," Arielle said to me suddenly. "Wanna go dance outside?"

  "You read my mind!" I said excitedly. "What about Elise?"

  "She'll catch up if she wants to. She's a bit tied up right now, obviously." She winked at me.

  We headed out to the roof area, relieved as we felt the cool breeze. Drinks in hand, awkward, bulky costumes taking up obnoxious amounts of space, we joined the crowd. The soundtrack was basic club music with a big pulsing bass drum to keep everyone dancing together, the whole show run by an actual DJ from what I could tell.

  There were a lot of dance remixes of familiar songs, and so we joined in and sang the lyrics when we knew them. Back and forth we went, grabbing drinks and then rushing back out to the dance floor to consume them while wobbling around.

  Eventually, we took a break, stopping to gaze out at the skyline. The city was totally gorgeous from the roof, and I couldn't believe the view, no matter how long I looked. On the ground, we could see groups of costumed people circulating in clusters. Pirates and tigers and mermaids.

  It was such a fun time—and we were pretty drunk.

  "Hey, the
re you guys are!"

  We weren't surprised at all to see that Elise was still with the same tall guy. He was dressed up as Chewbacca from Star Wars, but his mask was off. I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed his costume earlier.

  "Guys, this is Danny. Danny, this is Arielle and Naomi."

  "It's a pleasure to meet you guys," he said extending a furry hand to shake ours. "I've heard so much about you."

  "What, in the last hour?" Arielle snapped, her tone extra sarcastic due to the alcohol. She gripped his hand in a perfunctory manner and quickly let go.

  "Arielle!" Elise complained. "You just met him!"

  "Sorry," Arielle said quietly. "It's so nice to meet you, Danny. I'm a little drunk, and I just wish I had some weed."

  Danny was actually super tall, at least six feet five with somewhat of a runner's build from what I could tell. Beneath the mask was a pair of red hipster glasses and some fresh stubble on his cheeks.

  "I can hook you guys up," he said excitedly. "I'm best friends with Toby. C'mon."

  "Hell yeah!" Arielle said. "I knew Danny was cool."

  We weaved through the crowd again, following the giant wookie in front of us. Past the kitchen and around the corner, we came to the bedroom. Danny knocked on the door until it opened. Toby was standing there, eyes red as hell, the smell of pot lingering in the air.

  "We wanna smoke," Danny announced.

  "Come in, of course," Toby said.

  The room was posh and urbane, just as I would have expected given the rest of the designer apartment. The ceilings were high and there were mirrors all along the closets. Random pieces of art hung on the walls and sat on the dressers and cabinets. We smoked, and everything was fine until Toby disappeared into his closet and came back with MDMA.

  "Time to have fun, ladies! It's pure," he announced. "Clean and safe. I've taken these pills before."

  "Awesome," Arielle said. She and Elise were both grinning, and I felt more incongruent than ever. Why did they have to take more drugs? They stuck out their tongues and he set a pill on each one.

  "No thanks," I said as he approached. That same uncomfortable feeling hit me again, and I realized that my emotions were amplified from the weed/alcohol combo. "I'm going back out to the party." I stood up and approached the door.