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Grandma kissed my wet cheek. “Well, in some cases they don’t hurt either, so go try these on for me.” She grabbed the box and handed it to me. “By the way, I love you.”
I snatched the box from her. “I might still love you.”
She cackled. “You’re not fooling me.”
I begrudgingly stood and marched toward the bathroom.
“Don’t be afraid to use my tweezers, and Dani and Kinsley bought some makeup for you. It’s on the counter.”
I spun around. “I’m not a pet project!”
Grandma stood and surveyed me again. “I hate to say it, but some people take better care of their pets than you’ve taken care of yourself lately.”
My mouth fell open, but no words came out.
She motioned for me to get into the bathroom. “Hurry up, you’re going to make me late for my appointment.” She started folding towels as if I didn’t exist.
I turned back around, humiliated, but not surprised. Dani and Kinsley had been dropping hints lately that it was time for me to get out of my grunge phase. For my birthday six months ago, they got me a gift certificate to a spa, which was odd for two reasons. Dani and Kinsley didn’t have a lot of extra cash, and I’d never been to spa in my life. I still hadn’t. Also, in addition to the mental health brochures Dani had been leaving around the loft, Kinsley had been leaving her copies of Cosmo lying around, strategically left opened to articles about self-care and simple makeovers on a budget.
I trudged into the bathroom feeling like I was wearing the cone of shame. So I had some issues. I didn’t know how to be myself, or who that was, even. I didn’t want to be hurt, but more importantly, I never wanted to hurt anyone like I had hurt Jonah. But he had gotten on with his life. And I got on with mine. Apparently, though, not as well as I’d thought.
I stared into the mirror while wearing my undies. Yikes. I should probably invest in some new ones—even my bra and panties had holes in them. I took a good look at my body. Besides the fact that my skin could use some moisturizer, it was a nice body. I had forgotten I had curves and lines. I ran a hand across my flat stomach. At least I ate mostly right, and I did yoga on occasion. I hadn’t completely let myself go. Somewhere along the way I just got tired. Tired of trying to be someone I shouldn’t be—sought after and desired.
I leaned on the counter and looked closer in the mirror. “Who are you, Ariana?” I whispered.
Who do you want to be? My heart whispered back.
That was an excellent question.Chapter FourGrandma kept touching me as we drove to Dr. Gibbons’ office. “You look beautiful. That Shelby knows her stuff. She guessed you were a size four, even though you dress like you want to be a spokesmodel for Hefty trash bags. She said she could tell by your bone structure and the way you carried yourself you had a thin build.”
“I don’t know why I needed to wear a new outfit to take you to the doctor. Dr. Gibbons has known me forever, it’s not like I need to impress him.”
“We didn’t have time for you to change.”
I felt overly dressed for the occasion in the skinny jeans, navy striped turtleneck, and bone-colored petite jacket, which I had to admit went nicely with the ensemble—even though I felt like I was in a straitjacket. I wasn’t sure when I’d last worn anything so form fitting. At least I still got to wear my Birkenstocks. Grandma thought maybe I should go shoe shopping later.
Grandma smoothed my eyebrow. “You don’t look like Grizzly Adams anymore.”
I glanced her way before turning onto the street where Dr. Gibbons’ office was located. “Listen here, old lady, you should take a look at your wiry eyebrows,” I teased.
Her laugh filled the car. “Kiddo, when you’re my age, you take all the hair you can get.”
I had no idea how to respond to that. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not hiding some disease from me, are you?”
“Why would you ask that?”
“Well, you aren’t acting like you have the flu or a cold.”
She coughed on cue. “Listen to this cough. I probably have pneumonia.”
“Didn’t you get your pneumonia vaccination?”
“Yes.” She cleared her throat. “But you can never be too careful, especially this time of year.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“I always am.”
I loved the cantankerous old woman.
Grandma took my arm as we walked into her doctor’s office. She leaned in, being unusually clingy. “You know I love you, even more than I love your grandpa, right?”
I stopped before we entered the building. “Are you sure you’re okay?” She was starting to freak me out. I knew what a fake cough sounded like, having tried to play the sick card many years ago to get out of going to school. I was worried she was trying to ease me into telling me she was dying. Or maybe she wanted Dr. Gibbons to do it.
