Bria honks the horn for the third time. I grab my purse off my dresser and run as fast as I can out of the house.
"I'm coming. Jeez. You're going to make them toss me out of the neighborhood," I shout at her as I lock the front door and run over to the car.
As if I'm not standing on my last leg already. My rent still isn’t paid,I think to myself.
"What the hell have you been doing in there? I can't even see the makeup on your face now that you're out," she says as I settle into the passenger’s seat.
"If you can't see my obviously perfect makeup then you need to see an optometrist."
“Okay, your lip gloss is popping. That’s all I see,” she snickers and drives off.
We're off to dinner. Bria is treating me, and she's also celebrating a little promotion at work. That's how she puts it, “a little promotion,” while I'm out here scrapping for a job. I’d take a little. Hell, I’d take a quarter of a little.
"You really need to step up your makeup game. You're lucky you're naturally beautiful."
"Thanks for the compliment?" I half-question and look into the mirror to smack my lips together.
"I give you compliments all the time. You're the prettiest. It's crazy how much you look like Mom."
"Prettiest? Look who's talking. You're wickedly beautiful. Your honey blonde hair is the best I've seen. And your eyes, don't even get me started."
She laughs. "Mom passed it on to us. We obviously didn't get it from Dad."
"What do you mean? Dad was a looker in his day. A real hunk. I think we got it from both of them. I think you've got his eyes."
"You must be kidding me. Okay, maybe I do. A little," she says, pressing her index finger and thumb together.
"Not a little. A lot. Dad’s a good-looking man. If you found a man like that, wouldn’t you date him? He treated Mom right and he treats Amy right, too. He’s a damn good man.”
She crumples her face. “What? I could never date someone Dad’s age. What am I running, a nursing home?
“Dad’s only fifty-nine years old. He’s not old.”
“If I brought a fifty-year-old man home, Dad would have a heart attack. Plus, Chad treats me well, so I don’t need any other man. He’s the best.”
When Bria pulls up and we're out of the car, I get a better look at her dress. It’s red and falls just about three inches below her hips. She has an open trench coat on. I have on navy-blue slacks, a silk cami, and a tailored blazer. Bria and I have always been different. When we were teenagers, she took more interest in makeup while I was into reading. She was more outgoing than I was and made friends easily, while I came out of my shell as I grew older. Bria, she's the life of the party. The feisty one. The adventurous one who draws people in instantly.
"Chad is working late. He'd have joined us. He just texted me now," she says after we've taken our seat. She scrolls through her phone and presses on the keypad.
She puts the phone to her ear, her manicured nails glittering under the light. "Baby, I just saw your message. I'm at the restaurant with Aria already. We just got here. Hope you aren't working yourself to exhaustion. Okay. I'll do that. Love you." Then she ends the call.
"He sends his love. It's a busy week for him. My baby."
I nod and pick up the menu. When the waiter comes, we order and have drinks brought for us.
"I believe that real love exists," she says after taking a sip of her drink.
"Of course you’d say that. You've got the perfect boyfriend."
She chuckles. "Not just that. I think it exists. It's just people who give love a bad name."
I sigh. "I'm not so sure I believe in love anymore."
"Does that mean you never intend to get married?"
"Maybe. Maybe I'll never get married. Maybe I'll end up becoming a nun."
"Don't say that. You know Amy is waiting to spoil your babies."