Page 5 of The Affair
Thankfully, the talk among the ladies stuck to mainly church socials and the new restaurant that had opened up on Main Street. It was a pizza place, and everyone was super excited.
I was fairly certain we already had three other pizza joints in town, but this one was new, so obviously, it was better. According to one woman in the stall next to me, who’d decided to join in the conversation mid-stream, they had over thirty beers on tap and five flat screens. Some of the other women lost interest after that, claiming they didn’t need another distraction for their husbands’ attention, while a few others welcomed the idea.
Who knew a new pizza joint could offer so much insight into a couple’s marriage?
I lingered in the stall for as long as I could without it being weird and then made my way to the sinks. Thankfully, it had thinned out a bit. Food was now being served in the fellowship hall, so many people’s attention had been diverted.
I thought I was in the clear, having successfully touched up my makeup while a quiet, young woman kindly ignored me.
And then my Aunt Sally walked in. The wordwalkedwasn’t sufficient enough to describe the way she entered the restroom. It was more like what a hurricane did to a shoreline. She was loud and obnoxious, and I felt somewhat battered and bruised just for the experience of sharing the same air space as her.
“Oh! Eloise, dear! There you are! I was wondering where you’d run off to!” Her voice boomed.
She bypassed the stalls, obviously set on her priorities, and went straight for the mirror. I took a moment to glance at her bold ensemble. On a summer day, at a picnic maybe, it would have been quite a statement. It was a bright, flowery fabric that suggested she was attending something fun and lively rather than the somber occasion she’d chosen to wear it to.
But that was Aunt Sally in a nutshell. She stood out wherever she went. If she were the North Pole, my mother, her sister, would be the polar opposite, freezing her ass off at the South Pole.
“Oh, hon, your makeup, it’s a wreck,” she said, giving me a look that was a mixture of empathy and torture.
Pretty sure the look I gave in return was just the latter.
“Do you want me to fix it? I have some amazing new products from the fall line that would be absolutely gorgeous on you!”
I shook my head. “No, Aunt Sally. Thank you. Have you seen my mother? I want to make sure she eats something.”
“She’s with your brother and sister-in-law. They’re getting her a bite to eat in the fellowship hall. That’s where I was headed before I ran in here to touch up my lipstick. Why don’t you let me do yours, and then we’ll go in there together?”
She really isn’t going to let this go, is she?
Looking in the mirror, I didn’t think I looked that bad. But the truth was, I didn’t look that great either. I’d let my dark brown hair curl naturally this morning, forgoing the curling iron to check on any last-minute funeral arrangements. Of course, there weren’t any because my parents were meticulous planners, like me. And as for my makeup? Well, as much as I tried to touch it up, I couldn’t cover up the Texas-size bags under my eyes.
“Sure, that sounds good,” I said, caving to pressure.
Doing so made her face light up with excitement as she whipped open her purse.
“I know just the perfect combination to go with that porcelain complexion.”
“Nothing too dark,” I managed to say, hoping I wouldn’t come out of this restroom, looking like I was ready for a club instead of a wake.
“Oh, don’t worry, honey. I’ll keep it subtle,” she answered with a wink, pulling out a few shades of nudes and pinks.
This looked way more involved than my normal swipe-on-and-blot routine.
“So, what are your plans now?” she asked as I watched her pick a light mauve color and run a brush over the top of it.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Keep your lips like this,” she said, demonstrating with her own mouth.
She made a sort of O shape, stretching her lips out, and I then did the same before she answered my question.
“What I mean is,” she said, sweeping the first color on the outside of my lips, “I know you’ve been a rock for your mom during this difficult time, and I’m sure you will need to be for a while longer, but after that … what will you do?”
“I’m still not following,” I said as she continued the process with another color, this one slightly lighter than the other.
“Honey,” she said, “you need to get a life of your own.”
“I have a life,” I answered firmly.
