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Prologue: 2010
“Can you do my makeup next?” I asked.
“Not tonight, babe. Another time.”
“Where are you going?”
“Out to dinner for Roseanne’s birthday.”
I sat on the lid of the toilet bowl in the bathroom while my mother fixed herself up in the mirror. I watched as she flawlessly swooped her eyeliner across her lid without making a mistake. Her brown hair was the same color as mine, but fell in loose waves around her shoulders. I often wished my hair looked more like hers, instead of the thick frizzy spirals I was cursed with. I didn’t think that I looked anything like her. People said I did, but I think that’s just the sort of thing people say when meeting someone’s child.
“Did you finish all of your homework?”
I nodded. “Yup. Sixth grade is a piece of cake.”
She smiled at me in the mirror. “What are you and Dad watching tonight?”
“My Cousin Vinny.”
“Oh, good. Something new for a change.” She rolled her eyes for dramatic effect.
I giggled. “It’s just as funny every time. I never get sick of it.”
She spritzed herself with perfume from a blue glass bottle. “I don’t know about this top. What do you think? I don’t like the way it makes my stomach look from the side.”
“I think it looks great. You always look great.” I laughed at the way she fussed over her appearance so much before going out. Everyone that met her would make a big deal about how pretty she was – strangers that passed us on the street felt compelled to tell her about her beauty wherever we went. My friends even made comments about how lucky I was to have such a young-looking mom. It got annoying but my best friend, Shelly, would tell me to look on the bright side: “When you grow up, you’ll probably look just as hot as she does.” I doubted it.
She kissed the top of my head. “I love you. Have fun tonight.”
I jumped to my feet and wrapped my arms around her. “I love you. See you when you get home.”
“I might be home after you fall asleep, but I’ll check on you before I go to bed.”
“Okay. Have a nice time.”
I followed my mother out of the bathroom, shutting the light behind me. In the living room, I watched my father take in her appearance.
“You look nice,” he said as he stood from the couch.
She swung her leather jacket over her shoulders. “Thanks. Have fun.”
I stood by the entryway table, watching as she rummaged through her purse. My father and I exchanged matching grins as she became more frantic in her daily search for her keys.
“You two could be helping me, instead of laughing at me,” she muttered.
“Where would the fun be in that?” I asked.
“I don’t understand how they disappear all the time.” She stormed into the kitchen, yanking open a drawer to rummage through.
“They won’t be in there,” I called.
“Merritt, if you know where they are – just tell me, please! I can’t be late.”
I held up her purse as she came back into the living room. Her keys were hanging out of the front zipper pocket.
She rolled her eyes. “Sometimes, I really think I’m losing my mind.”
“Only sometimes?” I asked.
