Scarred

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by Tess Thompson


  “I know you told them no short dresses,” Autumn said. “But I thought I’d try it on anyway.”

  “You didn’t have to,” Pepper said, sounding desperate and miserable.

  Autumn drew closer until she was on the other side of Pepper. If anything, her legs looked worse under the bright lights—the scars redder, the misshapen calf like that of a monster under the sassy flounce of the tulle. She forced herself to look up at Pepper. “Your day is not about me. If this is the dress you want, then you shall have it.” Then, to her utter dismay, she dissolved into tears. “I’m sorry,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “But I’m so ugly and you’re all so perfect.”

  Pepper looked down at the seamstress, who seemed oblivious to anything amiss. “Can you give us the room for a moment, please?”

  The older lady, pins in her mouth, gave a curt, irritated nod before rising to her feet and lumbering out of the room.

  “Lacy, please excuse us,” Pepper said. Her eyes had turned dark and stormy, and she bit off the words. “Maybe you could pull the dresses I actually asked for while we talk for a moment?”

  Lacy didn’t say a word as she retraced the seamstress’s steps out of the room.

  A muscle in Maggie’s cheek flexed as she crossed over to Autumn and took her hand. “You’re not ugly. Not one bit.”

  Autumn let herself slump against Maggie’s narrow frame. They were similar in height and body type. Once, Autumn had twirled in a cheerleading outfit like the graceful ballerina Maggie had been. If only. If only.

  Pepper eased off her platform to join them. Lisa came around from the other side. They huddled around Autumn. She could feel the warmth of their bodies and smell the scents of their perfumes as their arms encircled her. She breathed, shaky and light-headed.

  “Come sit,” Maggie said to Autumn, leading her over to a chair. “You’re white as a ghost.”

  Autumn sat in the chair, grateful, as her legs had started to tremble. Lisa and Pepper sat on either side of her. Maggie knelt on the floor in front of Autumn.

  “I showed Trey my legs.” Autumn stretched them out long. The rhinestones on the garish sandals sparkled under the lights. “He said I was beautiful, even with my imperfections. But he’s wrong. Do you see why I don’t wear short skirts?”

  “I can understand exactly,” Maggie said. “And I’ll show you why.”

  Autumn’s mouth fell open as Maggie stood and shrugged out of the dress she wore. She stepped out of the pool of chiffon at her feet and stood before them, naked other than her bra and panties. “Do you see?” She jutted one leg forward. A skinny pink scar ran above her knee. “This is from my knee surgery.”

  “I’ve never noticed it before,” Autumn said.

  “I usually wear skirts that cover it,” Maggie said. “I hate the way it ruined my perfect legs, which I was so proud of and so vain about. They were the representation of years and years of hard work. Hours of dance classes and training. Worse, this scar is also the reminder of the day my dreams died. The day that meant I would never dance again. So I understand. And if you don’t want people to see your scars, then it’s your choice. Whatever you choose, you shouldn’t feel ashamed. You get to decide what you can live with.”

  Lisa stood then and turned her back to Maggie. “Unzip me, please.”

  Maggie did so. Lisa shrugged out of the gown and tossed it onto her abandoned chair. “Do you see these?” She placed her hands on her lower stomach. Silvery stretch marks dotted the fair skin of her lower abdomen. Next, she turned around to show to show her backside in a pair of thong underwear. Her buttocks and the sides of her upper legs were streaked with bluish marks. “When I was a teenager, I was heavier.” Her eyes grew misty as she continued. “When I went to a mental health facility after my suicide attempt, I lost a lot of weight. Once I was out of my mother’s house, where she criticized every ounce of food I put into my mouth, I lost the extra pounds. Funny how that works. But these stretch marks? They’re a symbol of all the things I went through. The depression and anxiety. They are proof that I suffered but stayed around to fight another day. I earned these. When I look at them, I see that I’m strong and brave. I’m still here. Do others see them that way? Heck no. Two months ago, while Pepper and I were filming together, they cut a scene of me in a bathing suit because of them.” She squeezed a portion of her lower butt cheek. “And because of these dimples, too. I look like a real person with fat and stretch marks. God knows, no one wants to see that. According to them, anyway. Therefore, the scene must be deleted, and I was made to feel ashamed because I’m imperfect. Does it make me mad? Sure. But not as mad as I am glad that I survived.”

  Pepper stood. “I guess that means I’m next. I don’t have to take off my gown to show you mine.” She lifted her hair and leaned her neck to the left. A one-inch scar, only slightly pink, ran under her right ear. “This is where a man held a knife to my throat while his friend raped me.” She ran her finger over the spot. “Even though the knife only pierced the surface, it left a scar to remind me of the worst night of my life. They stole a part of my soul that night. I’ll never again be the woman I was. But I won’t give those evil bastards power over my life. Not anymore. They almost cost me Stone, but his love was stronger than their hate. I won. Not them.”

  Autumn’s eyes leaked hot tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “For all of it.”

  “As we are for what you went through,” Maggie said. “But mostly, we understand.”

  “We all have scars,” Lisa said. “They make us human.”

  “And remind us of our strength,” Pepper said. “Our resilience.”

  “You almost died in that accident,” Lisa said. “You didn’t. It doesn’t mean you have to show the world your legs, but they are proof of your incredible fight.”

  “You wanted to live,” Maggie said. “And you did.”

  “Hell yes, you did,” Pepper said. “We all did.”

  Autumn wondered how it was possible that she’d lucked into friendship with these women. “Thank you.”

  The ladies helped one another get the dresses refastened.

  “Personally, I like this one the best,” Lisa said about the dress she was wearing. “It’s simple but elegant.”

  “I like it too.” Maggie turned to Autumn. “That way, Autumn and I don’t have to feel self-conscious about our legs.”

  “Plus, long dresses seem more appropriate for a castle wedding,” Lisa said.

  “We should keep it classy,” Pepper said. “At least for one day.”

  “I agree,” Lisa said, smiling. “You can tramp it up on your honeymoon.”

  “If we ever leave the room,” Pepper said.

  “You’ll need to eat at some point,” Lisa said.

  Pepper laughed. “Let’s call the poor seamstress in and get this fitting done, then order some bridesmaid dresses. I’m ready for some scotch and cigars.”

  “You’re not smoking a cigar,” Lisa said.

  “I know, but it sounded badass,” Pepper said.

  “You don’t need a cigar for that,” Autumn said. “None of you do.”

  “And neither do you,” Pepper said to Autumn. “Neither do you.”

  Valerie was ready for them when they returned, sitting in the lobby of the salon reading a magazine. She glanced up when Autumn and Pepper drew near.

  Valerie said, as she stood and did an uncharacteristic twirl, “What do you think?”

  “You look incredible,” Pepper said.

  “Mom, honestly, you’re beautiful.” Autumn would not have recognized her if she’d seen her on the street. Mario had cut her hair to chin level and added layers for a tousled look, then dyed it ash blond. Her makeup was subtle, with a smoky eye in soft gray, and pink lipstick. Foundation smoothed her skin, and blush made her cheekbones pop. Combined with her new clothes, she looked stylish and posh.

  “Do you like it?” Autumn asked. “Because that’s what’s most important.”

  Valerie’s eyes shone. “I do. It’s
more than I could’ve expected.”

  “Isn’t it great when life is better than we expected, instead of worse?” Pepper asked.

  “It never occurred to me that life could be anything other than what it was,” Valerie said.

  “Let’s go home and show off your new look to our boys,” Pepper said.

  Later, as they traveled up the narrow, curving highway toward home, the late-afternoon sun shone brightly, and the sea and sky were complementary shades of blue. They drank water and chatted about various benign subjects. They were almost home when Pepper turned to Valerie. “Lisa had an idea she wanted me to run by you.”

  Valerie shifted in her seat, appearing nervous.

  Pepper went on, either oblivious or undaunted. “Stone and I were talking with Rafael and Lisa about the Victorian.” This was the nickname Stone and his friends had given the apartment building Rafael had bought and renovated. “As you know, Lisa bought a house at the top of the hill. They had it repainted and put new flooring in, but besides that, it was turnkey. They’re going to move out of the apartment and into it next week. Lisa wants to go ahead even though it won’t be furnished all the way. That’s neither here nor there, really.” She grinned. “I’m getting off track. Anyway, they have a proposition for you. How would you feel about moving into their vacant apartment and acting as the building manager?”

  “Me? Manage a building?” Valerie asked. “I don’t have any experience doing that.”

  “Rafael said the job is simply a liaison between him and the tenants. He needs someone to be there if anyone has a leak or whatever. He has a list of providers and you’d just have to call one of them if you need anything. Rafael said it’s not hard, but he needs someone who can be there most of the time. He’s gotten too busy to manage it all. Plus, when he moves out, he’ll be even that much more removed.” Pepper snapped her fingers. “Oh, and he said you can keep all the furniture. Trey designed it specially for the apartment, and Rafael would like to keep it that way.”

  “I could move in, just like that?” Valerie shook her head. “But why would they do this for me?”

  “Because you’re Stone’s mom.” Pepper chuckled. “Rafael’s mother lives on the first floor, as well as her best friend, Ria. Lisa’s dad is living with David and the kids now. Her parents got a divorce, and her mom’s finding her artistic muses in Paris.”

  “Paris?” Valerie asked.

  “Long story,” Autumn said.

  “Besides that, there will be leases that need signed and rent collected. Nothing complicated, but he needs someone reliable.”

  “I guess I could do that,” Valerie said. “It’s better than sponging off Autumn.”

  “You’ve been with me one night,” Autumn said. “Not exactly sponging.”

  She and her mother exchanged a smile. “Better not to wear out my welcome,” Valerie said.

  By then, they had arrived in Cliffside Bay. The driver dropped Pepper at the Victorian first, then Autumn and her mother. When they were inside with all the packages, Valerie said she’d like to take a nap before dinner.

  “Go for it. I have a few things I need to do as well,” Autumn said, thinking of Art. She wanted to write to him and tell him about the latest turn of events.

  * * *

  Dear Art,

  It’s been quite a busy few days. You’ll be surprised at my news. I know I was.

  She went on to tell him about the fire and her mother’s move to Cliffside Bay.

  Somehow, Pepper, my soon-to-be sister-in-law, talked her into a makeover and shopping spree. Only Pepper would be able to do such a thing. Before we knew what was happening, Pepper had us in San Francisco. Valerie bought new clothes and had her hair fixed. She looks wonderful. It’s amazing what a few new clothes and a haircut will do. She’s also found a job as an apartment manager for a building here in town. The same one where Trey lives.

  * * *

  She went on to tell him about the fitting.

  * * *

  They just stood there, unveiling themselves to me. And it made me think, Art, that everyone has scars. It’s what we choose to do with them that defines who we are. Is it as simple as the girls said today? Are they badges of honor, proof that we’ve lived through heartache and hurt only to rise again?

  Regardless, I’ve added them to the list of people now who’ve seen me as I am. My brothers, Sara, Trey, and now these ladies who so generously gave of themselves to me today. They bared their scars and their souls so that I might feel less alone. Isn’t that the most wonderful gift we can give another human being?

  I must close now. Please write and let me know how things are going.

  Love,

  007

  9

  Trey

  * * *

  Trey sat staring at his computer screen. He couldn’t think how to respond. Guilt about his deceit was starting to interrupt his work and his sleep. This whole thing was wrong. He needed a way to end this. He needed to tell her the truth about his feelings and put Art to rest.

  His next thought depressed him further. What would she do if she ever found out about Art? Would he have to keep it a secret forever? What did it matter, though, if her feelings for him never changed?

  What had he done? Was there a way out?

  * * *

  Dear 007,

  I’m proud of you for taking such a big step today with the ladies. I’ve noticed that women seem to fall into two categories: ones who compete with other women, thus keeping them from true friendship, and ones who see women as allies, building one another up. You seem to have found the latter. For this, I’m glad. The world can be a cold and lonely place without friends to lift you when you’re down.

  I’m almost finished with my commissioned work here and will move on to the next project within a week. I may not have much internet where I’m going next. I’ll let you know before I leave.

  I’ve decided I’m going to tell Michelle my feelings before I go, though. It’s time. Any advice?

  Art

  * * *

  He hit send and went to his closet to pull a T-shirt over his head. A moment later, his phone buzzed with a text from Autumn.

  * * *

  Hey. Come over for dinner? We can try that new Middle Eastern recipe I found.

  Sure. What time?

  Whenever. Can you stop at the store and get paprika?

  Sure. See you in a bit.

  * * *

  Angry, he tossed his phone on the bed. They conversed like an old married couple, yet she still thought of him as good old Trey, like a brother to her. Damn, he was never going to make this happen unless he flat-out told her his feelings.

  The next morning, Trey’s mother called as he was about to head down to the beach to meet Nico for a swim.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Trey. It’s…it’s about your dad. He’s had a heart attack.” Her usual even timbre shook as she continued. “The paramedics took him to the hospital and he’s alive, but he needs surgery—an angioplasty to reroute the blood flow to the heart or something like that. It’s all such a blur, and they told me so many things at once. The surgery’s this afternoon.”

  Trey froze, caught in the web of his mother’s words, unable to make sense of them. His father, so fit and active, could not have had a heart attack. It wasn’t possible.

  “Trey? Are you there?”

  “Yes, Mom. I’m here. I’m in shock.”

  “I’m sorry, honey.”

  “Did it happen at the office?” he asked.

  The sounds of his mother crying came from the other end of the phone.

  “Mom?”

  She answered in stops and starts, still crying. “No, he was with her. His girlfriend. At her apartment. A young woman who works for him. She’s one of the reps. You know the type. Pretty. Just out of college.”

  “Wait. What are you talking about?” His dad was having an affair with one of his pharmaceutical salespeople? How did a person of that level even have access to hi
s dad? As CEO of the company, there were layers of employees between him and the reps. He’d never known his father to care about anything more than work. Why would he risk such a thing?

  He heard Mom take in a deep breath. When she spoke next, her voice had smoothed. “Your father has a girlfriend. He was with her when he had the heart attack.”

  “Mom, maybe he was just visiting her? For a work reason?”

  “No, honey. They were in bed. He pays for the apartment. He has for a year now. I saw the lease.” A pause on the other end before she spoke again. “I’ve known for a while now. He’s been planning to leave me but hasn’t had the courage to do it yet.” He’d never heard his composed mother so vulnerable, so shredded.

  “How do you know?”

  “We’ve been married for almost forty years. I thought he was hiding something, so I hired an investigator. He found everything. Photos. Paperwork with money trails. Two cell phone numbers assigned to him.”

  “Does he know you know?”

  “No. I keep waiting for him to tell me, but for all his bluster, he’s not a brave man. So it’s just gone on and on for months. The lying. Lie after lie. I want him to admit to the girl, so I have the advantage in the divorce.”

  “Divorce?”

  “Honey, yes. I have to divorce him. There’s no recovering from this.”

  His stomach twisted. The toast he’d just eaten wanted to come up. He didn’t know what to do.

  “Trey, I need you to come down here.”

  “I’ll come as soon as I can.”

  “Jamie’s on her way over to the house. She’s very upset. I had to tell her about the girl.”

  His sister was currently waitressing while living in Mission Beach with some girlfriends. His parents lived in a gated community in Del Mar about a half hour from there. “I’ll be there. Tell Jamie I’ll get there as soon as I can.” Jamie had been his parents’ surprise child, born ten years after Trey. His mother had been over forty when she found out she wasn’t going through menopause but was pregnant.

 

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