Page 2 of Knot Just for Show

“If you don’t have time, I’ll just tell them they can get fucked—you only have time to make my mug flawless,” she adds.

“I don't know… I'm contemplating whether to play sick or to play dead!” I snort playfully, flopping into the driver’s seat.

I’m only teasing. The twins are more fun than anyone would like to give them credit for. The two stunning young omegas who seem to turn everything they touch to gold.

I myself had done my best to continue hating Daphne's twin sisters-in-law for being so damnably beautiful and good at everything—but quickly found the task insurmountable. Between Lotte’s goofy jokes and sunny disposition and Cammy’s insatiable desire to help and be kind to people, along with her easy manner, the girls are intrinsically… loveable; even if they tend to stick to Daphne and I like glue whenever they’re in town. Just like the real-life little sisters neither I nor Daphne ever had as kids.

While Lotte and Cammy are only a few years younger than we are, freshly minted twenty-one feels much farther away than it actually is when you’ve hit the big 3-0, and both Cammy and Lotte are even worse than Daphne when it comes to hassling me about my single status.

“All three of you better be washed, exfoliated, and moisturized by the time I get there, and MAYBE I can squeeze all of you in. No promises,” I grumble, checking my mirrors.

“O, benevolent one! You’ve made everyone here at Cypress House very happy,” Daphne lays it on thick with a terrible play at a British accent. I can hear the girls squealing with delight in the background.

“Oh joy—you know me. Mother Teresa,” I scoff as I switch out my glasses with their thick, coke bottle lenses for my similarly afflicted prescription sunglasses—checking my reflection in the mirror to make sure I don’t have any spinach quiche lingering between my front teeth—as the paps are likely to be on me going in and out of Daphne’s place—and I don’t need a repeat of the ‘salad-smile’ incident.

“DoesMother Teresahave any requests for her trouble?” Daphne fishes, a note of mischief in her voice.

“I think I should do fine with the customary glass of whatever Julian’s got chilling in the fridge—and access to old Gus-gus’ puff stash.” I reach into my purse and fish out a package of ‘QueenBigBubble’ gum and tear away the paper-foil tail of the package to get at the treasure inside. I unwrap one massive cube of strawberry-flavored bubble gum and pop the neon pink sweet-tart confection in my mouth.

“Done anddone,” Daphne laughs.

I hear the muffled sounds of Lotte and Cammy on the other end of the line—Daphne shushing and shooing them away before she returns to the line. I can’t help but smirk at the sisterly interaction; a pink strawberry scented bubble inflating between my quirked lips.

“Sorry, the girls are driving menuts–I’ll see you soon, m’kay?” she chirps sweetly.

I pop my gum with a loud snap.

“Mhm! Soon I’ll be there and they can driveusnuts,” I laugh.

“Drive safe—love you, see you soon!” Daphne makes a loud, wet smooching sound into the phone.

“I will—love you too—see you!” I make my own loud kissy sound into the receiver before ending the call and jamming my old, ratty AUX cable into the adapter at the bottom of my phone. Maybe next year I’ll be able to afford the upgrade to a car constructed in the post-blue-tooth age.

But I’m not going to hold my breath. In fact, I snap another strawberry bubble—offering a wave to my neighbor FiFi, as she walks for her mail—her pink tinted q-tip hairdo bobbing slightly with each measured step of her walker.

Here’s to praying the traffic to Cypress House is manageable.

My prayers went unanswered.

It took me an hour, nearly double my expected travel time, to get to Daphne’s place.

I arrive with plenty of time to get Daphne’s look under control–but squeezing the twins in is going to be a to-do.

I’m scrambling up the beautiful monolithic front steps of the notorious Pack Silver mansion when, to my complete surprise, Agnes appears in the mammoth door frame; Cammy and Lotte peering out from the edges of the silvery-white nimbus of Agnes’ afro.

“Well, I hadn’t expected the welcoming committee—” I lean in, exchanging pecked kisses on alternating cheekbones with Agnesbefore Cammy and Lotte nearly knock me off my feet with a dual bear hug.

“But it’s lovely to see you, ladies.” I manage to steady myself–narrowly avoiding knocking my train case over with my hip.

I’m a little taken off guard by Agnes’ presence, but do my best to mask my nerves as we scuttle into the massive house and see Daphne, laying draped across the sofa in her dressing gown with her blonde waves twisted on top of her head.

“Are all of you ready? Daphne’s first obviously, but once I’m done with her, I’ll move on to the girls,” I call through the massive open living room–wheeling my things to the long table in the center of the space–where Daphne has already set up a power strip and a small snack bar for our afternoon of beautification.

It doesn’t escape my notice that the girls and Agnes are whispering like schoolgirls in study hall while Daphne is attempting to shush them as she herds them toward the sofa.

Something is going on. I don’t know what, but I aim to find out.

After nearly two hours of curling, pinning and spraying, Daphne’s hair is most of the way done, and we’ve nearly all made our way through the mundane catch up and small talk.

---