Forever 51

by Pamela Skjolsvik

  “Yeah, so, about that. Why exactly did you want to find me after all these years?”

  “You don’t know?” Mary uncrossed her legs, flashing a strip of neon green underwear.

  “Let’s just pretend I don’t.” Veronica reciprocated the smile and leaned back in the chair. She was done talking. Beneath her calm façade, pangs of jealousy seethed beneath the surface, agitated by every fresh glimpse of Mary Katherine’s impossibly glamorous physique. She felt like they had both bought the same dress for the junior high dance, but only Mary looked good in it.

  “I want my soul back.” Mary said as if she were simply ordering a hamburger.

  Veronica strove to keep her voice neutral. “Really? And you’re ready to become mortal?”

  “Who said anything about becoming mortal? I just want to be able to see myself. I don’t know about you, but putting mascara on without the aid of a mirror is a nightmare. I’m not sure if I look like a clown, Alice Cooper or what.”

  Veronica leaned forward, her hands clutching the arms of the chair. Mary Katherine obviously needed no help putting on makeup. She was here for the apology. For the sheer pleasure of watching Veronica grovel, when they both knew that Mary was the sole architect of her own misery. “You can stop the cutesy act. I know why you’re here. But just so you know, you brought this all on yourself.”

  Mary rubbed her feet and inspected her toenails, as if Veronica didn’t even merit a sideways glance. “Oh, I did, did I? Just because I slit my wrist? You could have easily killed me. Sounds to me like you suffer from a big, fat god complex.”

  Jenny rose from the bed and tiptoed towards the bathroom with the box of hair dye.

  It was all Veronica could do not to pick up one of those pumps and beat Mary with it. “So, it’s all my fault you are the way you are? I distinctly remember you killing off a good portion of the population and having a pretty fantastic time while you were doing it. And now, for all appearances, you still seem to be having a grand old time with the way things are, so what’s the big problem?”

  Mary treated her to a pouty frown. “I already told you, Astrid. Mascara. That’s the big problem.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. You want your soul back so that you can apply makeup? That’s it? That’s all you really care about?” Veronica rose along with the volume of her voice and slowly paced from the now closed bathroom to the front door. The fact that she needed Mary more than Mary needed her fed the seed of rage building in her core. “You used me, Mary. And because of your behavior, I was forced to leave Massachusetts.”

  “You were going to leave anyway. That’s what you do—you leave. And if you think I’m going to apologize to you for what you did, you are delusional. That’s not how it works. You’re supposed to apologize to me.” Mary examined her chipped nails, but her lips had begun to tremble.

  “You know what? You’re fucking ridiculous and I can’t deal with this kind of idiocy right now.” Veronica stomped towards the door and grabbed the handle. “Get out. I’ve got bigger problems than you right now.”

  “No! I’m not leaving until you say you’re sorry.” Her eyes were shimmering wet.

  “Oh, for crying out loud. Don’t start crying.” Veronica let go of the handle and placed her hands defensively on her hips. “I’m sorry. There. I said it. Are you happy now?”

  Mary bolted from the bed towards the mirror. “I still can’t see myself. Shouldn’t I feel something? I was told I would feel something.” Mary pounded her tiny fist on the dresser and bowed her head as a solitary tear spattered onto the stained varnish.

  Typical. Even in the midst of anger and sadness, she took care not to smudge anything. Even at her tacky, tawdry worst, Mary was more a beauty than Veronica ever could be.

  Not that Mary would ever think of that. “I thought you were my friend.” She turned towards Veronica. “Do you think maybe you could try saying it again?”

  “I’m sorry.” Veronica softened the way she spoke the words, but she knew without looking at the mirror that it would remain free of Mary’s reflection.

  “She doesn’t mean it. That’s why it’s not working.” Jenny shuffled out of the bathroom with wet hair. Red dye dripped down her face and splattered her pink pajama top. “And I wasn’t a twelve-stepper for very long, but I do know that apologies have a way of setting you free. So maybe you two need to hug it out or something.”

  The two women eyed each other like boxers in the ring. Veronica didn’t want to fight Mary—she just wanted her to leave so she could eat. “Are you in a hurry to get back to Vegas? Maybe you could check into the motel. Hell, you could probably make a few bucks while you’re here.”

  Mary plopped back down on the bed with a sigh. “Why can’t I just stay here with you? There’s two beds. Maybe we could try and work this out? It’s not like we’re going to go to sleep.”

  No. Absolutely not. But out loud, all Veronica said was, “We don’t need to sleep, but Jenny does. And I really need to eat before I kill the pizza delivery guy.”

  There was a light, almost tentative knock at the door. “There he is,” Jenny chirped.

  “How much is it?” Veronica grabbed her wallet.

  “Nineteen and some change. Before you pay, make sure they brought the parmigiana and peppers. They always forget that shit.”

  Veronica pulled out a twenty and a five—but as she opened the door, it was impossible to notice that the pizza guy, a short, husky man in an over-starched western shirt, was not carrying a greasy cardboard box. He flashed a badge by way of apology.

  “Did you forget the pizza?” Veronica eyed the man and his holstered gun.

  “No, ma’am. Carl Grandy, private investigator. May I have a word with you?”

  Veronica stepped outside and closed the door. “Yes, sir. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m here to retrieve that young lady you’ve got in there, Jenny Ann Pearson. She was on her way to a, um, medical facility, and she failed to show up. Her family is very concerned.”

  “Isn’t she an adult?” Veronica didn’t know what else to say.

  Carl stepped in closer and inhaled through his nose near Veronica’s shoulders. “Are you all doing drugs in there? I’m not an officer of the law, but…”

  Veronica had had plenty of close calls in her long nursing career. She smiled as old instinct kicked in. “Of course not. Listen, you’ll be doing me a favor by taking her. She’s all yours, Mr. Grandy. I’d be thrilled to see her safely returned to her father. I hear he’s running for president.” Veronica smiled and touched Carl lightly on his arm. He smelled delicious. “Why don’t you come on in. We just ordered a bite to eat.”

  “Don’t mind if I do.” Carl removed his black cowboy hat and followed Veronica inside.

  “Jenny?” Veronica called out. “There’s someone here to see you.”

  The bathroom door swung open and Jenny shuffled out with a towel on her head. Mary followed, favoring Carl with a shit-eating grin.

  “Jenny, this here is Carl. Carl is a private investigator who’s been hired to bring you home.”

  “Actually, ma’am, I’ve been hired to transport Ms. Pearson to Serenity of the West. How are you doing, Miss Jenny? Your dad’s been very worried about you.”

  Jenny smirked and nodded knowingly. “Hey, Carl.”

  “You two know each other?” Veronica’s fangs attempted to push through her pursed lips. She flinched at the insistent pounding at the motel’s door.

  “There’s the pizza,” Mary said. “You want me to answer it? You look a little peaked.” They were the first welcome words out of her mouth all evening.

  Veronica handed her the cash and flashed a look of desperation. Mary stepped outside and closed the door quietly behind her.

  “Yeah, me and Carl go way back. Don’t we Carl?” Jenny pulled the towel from her head and blotted her bright red hair.

  “Yes, we do, Miss Jenny.” Carl sat on the edge of the bed, drumming his short, stubby fingers on the thigh of
his starched jeans. “I see you’ve dyed your hair an unnatural color again. Your daddy don’t like it much when you do that.”

  “You know what, Carl? I really don’t care that he doesn’t like it. And FYI, I’m not going with you for another round of rock climbing and hot yoga with a bunch of rich assholes. The only person who benefits from me being out of the presidential family photo is my father.”

  “Who wants pizza and a Coke?” Mary dropped the pizza box on the desk and dished up two slices on a paper plate. “Jenny, here you go, hon. Sir, can I interest you in anything?” Mary bent over to pick up a napkin that dropped onto the heavily patterned carpet.

  Carl’s gaze traveled the length of her curves. He licked his lips. “A slice and a cold beverage sounds heavenly, Miss.”

  “It’s Porsche, but you can call me Mary.” Like a dutiful waitress, she brought him his food with a smile.

  “Well, thank you, Mary. I’ve had a long day of traveling and I can’t tell you how grateful I am for the kindness.” Carl gulped the beverage and placed the empty cup between his knees.

  Mary skittered back to the table, grabbed the two-liter bottle and poured a refill, allowing him a quick peek down her low-cut sweater. “You’re not married, Carl?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “A man like you? What’s wrong with those women in Texas? Why, if you lived in Vegas, you’d be snatched up in a second.” She winked.

  Jenny rolled her eyes and shuffled over to the desk for another slice. “You’re not going to have any?” Jenny nudged Veronica’s shoulder.

  “No, I’m lactose and gluten intolerant, but thanks for asking.” Veronica intertwined her hands, unsure of what to do with them. Mary was up to something, and Veronica dimly hoped that it didn’t involve seducing Carl right there on the bed. One never knew with Mary.

  Carl ate half the slice in one greedy bite as grease dribbled down his chin.

  “Napkin?” Mary settled close to Carl on the bed and dabbed at the grease. “Is it hot in here or is it just me?”

  And that was how it went for the next twenty minutes—Mary cooing and fawning over Carl, Jenny and Veronica giving each other the side-eye. But when the pizza was gone, he wiped his mouth in gentlemanly fashion and nodded at Mary. “Thank you kindly, ma’am. But Miss Jenny, your daddy’s gonna be real mad at me if I don’t get you to that treatment center.”

  “I really don’t care, Carl. It’s none of my business what my dad thinks about you.” Jenny wiped her mouth on her pajama sleeve and crumpled up the plate.

  “He loves you and only wants what’s…”

  “Best for me, right?” Jenny stared at Carl, whose eyes were slowly closing. “What’s a matter, cat got your tongue, Carl?”

  Carl laid back on the bed and rubbed at his eyes. “I feel really sleepy all of a sudden. Would y’all mind if I just closed my…”

  “Eyes?” Mary rumpled Carl’s hair and kissed him on the cheek. “Would you like to duct tape him to the bed, or should I?”

  For the second time in an hour, Mary had made herself invaluably useful. And for the second time in a day, Veronica found herself reciting the Serenity Prayer as she abetted yet another absurd felony.

  30

  After Carl was securely fastened to the double bed—fully clothed with two pillows beneath his head—the three women tiptoed through the motel room to gather their belongings. Mary thoughtfully grabbed Carl’s keys from his front pocket and proceeded to remove all items from his car that might be of use to him once the maid found him in the morning. The roofies would knock him out for a good six, if not eight hours. They hoped he wouldn’t remember a thing in the morning, and if he did, they’d be two states away.

  With adrenaline pumping, Veronica jumped behind the wheel. Mary called shotgun and Jenny hurled herself into the backseat. In a cloud of dust and gravel, they peeled out of the lot.

  “Where’s your phone?” Veronica boomed at Jenny from the front seat. “You turned it on, didn’t you?” She raised her right hand with splayed fingers. “Give it to me.”

  Jenny pulled the cracked phone from her backpack, along with the charger and tossed it into the front seat like it was on fire. “I was just checking my email. Geez. I didn’t call or text anyone.”

  “Doesn’t matter. That’s how he found us.” Veronica unrolled the driver’s side window and tossed the phone into oncoming traffic.

  “What the fuck, man!”

  “Does your dad have any more private investigators on his payroll or was Carl-the-fucking-genius it?”

  Veronica glared at Jenny from the rearview mirror. She was so accustomed to not seeing herself that once she caught a glimpse of her own reflection, she couldn’t help but stare at her old face. Two thick lines etched between her furrowed brows. Disgusted, she jutted her chin towards the mirror and fingered the lone prickly hair. Even in the dimming light, the black stubble stood out against the whiteness of her skin. She pinched it between her fingers and forcibly yanked it free from her flesh. An identical hair sprouted within seconds. There was nothing she could do about it now other than forgetting it existed. A plucked hair or a shaved leg would return to its former state almost instantaneously. This regenerative power was great for bullet wounds; not so great for vanity. Reflection, at least in the physical sense, made matters worse.

  Jenny deflated into her seat and pressed her face against the cool window. “I should have just gone with Carl. It would be way better than road-raging Count Chocula and her crazy prostitute side-kick. Seriously, what kind of woman carries roofies and duct tape in her purse?”

  “I can turn this car around right now. Is that what you want? Just say the word, missy, and I will bring your ungrateful ass right back to that motel and you can go climb rocks with the hollyweirdos.”

  “Take a chill pill.” Jenny leaned into the front seat. “Speaking of chill pills, Porsche, you got any Valium? I was just kidding about the duct tape. It’s actually a very handy item to have around.”

  “How about a Xanax?” Mary lifted her knockoff Luis Vuitton purse onto her lap.

  “Don’t you dare.” Veronica pushed the cheap bag back onto the floor. “She’s a recovering addict.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Mary turned and half-smiled at Jenny. “Hugs not drugs, okay?”

  Veronica couldn’t take it anymore. She needed to connect with someone sane, someone who loved her unconditionally. She held out her hand to Mary. “Give me your phone.”

  Mary leaned away. “Not if you’re going to throw it out the window.”

  “I’m not going to throw it out the window.” Veronica pawed the space between them. “Give it to me. Is it a smart phone?”

  “Well, duh.”

  “Hand it over! Hurry!” Veronica pounded the steering wheel.

  Mary grabbed a pair of readers from the spilled contents of her purse and swiped the screen. “Jesus, calm down! You need to keep your eyes on the road. What do you need?”

  “Serenity Seekers in Fort Worth, Texas.” Veronica barked.

  “Okay. Now what?”

  “Call that number and leave a message. Tell them Frank R. needs to call Astrid. It’s urgent. And don’t forget to leave your number.” Veronica placed both hands on the steering wheel and gripped till her knuckles whitened.

  Mary’s voice was as chipper and bright as a caffeinated telemarketer’s. “Oh, hello. Is this Frank? Oh, okay. Would you be a dear and take an important message for him? Go right ahead.” Mary turned towards Veronica and placed her hand over the phone. “It’s Bob J. He needs to find a pen and some paper. Yes, I’m here, Bob. Please tell Frank to call Astrid at 702-555-1234. It’s very important. Thank you. You, too.”

  “Now I need you to call that little Seamus shit and see if he ratted me out to Carl. He said someone else was looking for me, so you know what, he probably did.” Veronica leaned forward and hugged the steering wheel.

  “Carl isn’t one of our kind, so I wouldn’t worry about that. If you ask me, it was the phone th
at led him to the motel.”

  “You hear that, Jenny? It’s all your fault,” Veronica shouted. “I swear. People can’t wipe their ass without an electronic companion in their germy little hands.”

  “Would you stop yelling?” Jenny snapped. “You sound just like my grandpa and nobody likes my grandpa. Why don’t you pull over and get something to eat before I jump out of this car?”

  “That sounds like a marvelous idea,” Mary exclaimed. “Not the jumping out of the car part. What’s the plan, ladies?”

  Jenny rolled her eyes. “I’m the plan.”

  Mary directed her gaze towards the backseat. “Really?” She smiled, revealing her protruding fangs.

  “Back off, Porsche. I’m a happy meal, not an all-you-can-eat buffet.”

  “She has a blood condition that requires donating a pint now and then. That’s why she’s so orange,” Veronica said.

  “I was beginning to question her spray tan choices, but who am I to judge?” Mary looked at Veronica. “Have you ever tried spray tanning? I got an Ooompa Loompa the first time I ever did it and let me tell you, orange skin doesn’t flatter anyone.”

  “Gee thanks.” Jenny sighed heavily. “Can we just get this over with, so my skin doesn’t offend anyone?”

  “Yes, I would be more than happy to get this over with.” Veronica glanced at Mary. “I did try a spray-tan once. It didn’t go well. For anyone.”

  Veronica sandwiched the car between two giant SUVs in a packed parking lot. With renewed pep, she grabbed the coffee mug from the console, opened her door and slid into the backseat.

  “You’re going to draw my blood out here?” Jenny’s gaze darted around the lot and its pedestrian traffic.

  “Nobody pays attention in parking lots. If we pulled over behind a building or on the side of the road, then we’d probably have every cop and looky-loo within a twenty-mile radius checking in on us. Poor gals can’t change their own tire. But here, everyone is staring at their phone or thinking about what processed food they’re going to stuff their carts with.”

  “I heard on the news that someone died in a grocery store parking lot and they weren’t discovered for weeks!” Mary peeked around her seat and smiled. “I’m starving. Can I watch?”