Page 56 of The Making of Marnie Jones

MarniestaredatOliviaacross the table where they were eating lunch. A late lunch. They’d been fortunate to find a spa that made room for them to get manicures. The next step had been the hairdresser’s. Marnie planned to just watch, but Olivia cajoled her into getting a trim. Her black hair now shone and was split-end free. Finally, they stopped at the cosmetics store for makeup.

While Marnie’s change in appearance was subtle, Olivia's transformation was stunning. Gone were the long tresses of blonde hair. In their place was a sleek bob with shading and highlights of light-brown. Her blue eyes appeared darker, although perhaps because of the lighting of the food court. Her skin glowed from the facial, and the subtle makeup made her look sophisticated. A mature young woman had replaced the immature teenager.

Unfortunately, all this was superficial. Olivia was still overwhelmed. She’d been in awe of the entire experience.

At times Marnie had trouble reconciling that only five years’ age difference existed between the two of them.

“You look serious.”

Marnie offered a sheepish grin. “I was thinking of the stores we’re going to hit up.”

“It’s unreal.”

“It is, isn't it?”

Olivia seemed to contemplate Marnie's answer. “Have you ever done this before?”

Marnie leaned in conspiratorially. “Actually, no. I figured if I look like I know what I'm doing, others will go along with it.” She took a sip of her soda. “The key is to be respectful. You did great at the salon. Always be nice to the service workers because it's not an easy life.”

“I thought you were rich. I remember hearing you were loaded.”

Marnie didn't bother to ask how the young woman knew about the wealth. The media delighted in comparisons between the two girls. Her family money versus Olivia's virtual poverty.Expertsdebated on who was more likely to recover psychologically given her socioeconomic status. The whole thing made her ill. Although money offered her more protection, and a high-end therapist, it hadn't bought her peace of mind. And who was to say Olivia’s upbringing in virtual poverty hadn’t given her the strength of character to help her cope with the horrors she’d endured?

Looking across the table at Olivia, Marnie acknowledged money had little sway. They were two women who were still hurting.

“Yes, my father’s rich.” Her stomach clenched. She fought the dread threatening to overtake her. The dread she experienced each time she was about to rip the bandage off the still gaping wound. “I was twelve when I was taken. Because my mother died when I was a baby, I didn't have the same experiences as my classmates. My housekeeper took me to the hairdresser’s, and she bought my clothes. She was the one who taught me about respecting those of lower economic class, and she never let me use money to put myself ahead of others. Unbeknownst to my father, she took me to volunteer once a month at the food bank sorting center. I learned how important those charity food donations were for families in the city. She explained to me about children who are reliant on help.”

“Children like me.”

Olivia's words were quiet and sure.

“I didn't mean…well, yes, I guess kids like you.” She cringed but continued. “The lessons I learned from Mrs. Grant were powerful. I think, however, I was always more empathetic than others. More sensitive, if you will.”

“I can see that about you.” Olivia fingered her napkin absentmindedly. “You haven't passed judgment about me.” Her eyes watered. “You understand.”

“I do. I wish for both our sakes I didn't, but I do. I wish we could both just be two friends having a girls’ day out. I wish I could take your pain away.”

Olivia twirled the straw in her soda. “Does it get better?”

Marnie swallowed. Hard. This was probably the question she dreaded the most because there was no simple answer. “It gets easier.”

“Okay.”

The young woman’s calm acceptance didn’t fool her for a moment. She was tempted to press Olivia harder, but the young woman was retreating into herself. “It's time to put a serious dent in my credit card.”

Olivia's look of gratitude somewhat eased the tight band around Marnie’s chest.

***

Marnie fought exhaustion and sore feet when she unlocked the door to the condo. She was flooded with gratitude when Jake was there to relieve her of some packages. Olivia followed her in and closed the door with her foot. The young woman had endless energy as she did a little twirl in front of Jake.

“You like?”

“I like.” He filled his words with appropriate enthusiasm. He stared at the parcels. “Should I put these in the bedroom?”

Olivia scooped up the rest of the bags and headed down the hall with her uncle dutifully bringing up the rear.

Marnie smirked. Then she practically crawled to the living room couch. Relief was swift when she removed her supposedly sensible shoes. Despite being on her feet for work, she couldn't remember them ever hurting this much. She used fingers to massage her soles.

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