by Mott, Teisha
Andie changed out of her swimsuit and two hours later joined her family for breakfast on the pool terrace.
“So, tonight is your big night, eh, Andie?” Dr Persaud said as he spread some more marmalade on his toast. “You excited?”
“Not really,” Andie lied. “It’s not that big a deal.”
“You worry me, how easily you lie!” Her mother commented, with a shake of her head.
Andie opened her mouth to comment, but decided against it.
“Your first date ever in life!” Samantha mused. “This is the most important date, Andie. It sets a precedent for all your other dates. If you mess up, you’ll have bad dating karma forever.”
“Thank you, great guru of dating,” Andie said sarcastically.
“Sarcasm is an ugly emotion, Andie-Cap,” Samantha said. “I know what I’m talking about.”
“So then your first date must have been hell on earth,” Andie surmised, “hence your lack of an evening out in forever.”
“Shut up, Andie!” Samantha said.
“Where is he taking you?” Mrs Persaud asked.
“I have no idea, Mommy,” Andie said honestly.
“Whatever Nathan’s ‘big surprise’ is, he has to reveal it before he drives you outta here tonight,” her father warned, finishing his juice. “I don’t know what the big secret is all about.”
“Do you remember where you took me for our first date, Andy?” Mrs Persaud asked.
“Of course!” Dr Persaud said. “My backyard for chicken and potatoes. Still my favourite thing to eat, my love!” He leaned over and kissed his wife’s neck.
Andie, Samantha and Christopher looked at each other and rolled their eyes.
“Enough, you two. It’s too early for that!” Christopher commented.
Dr Persaud looked at his son. “How old are you again?”
“Eight years and two months old,” Christopher replied. “How old are you, Daddy?”
“Not as old as you!” Dr Persaud said. He looked at his watch. “Anyway guys, I’m out. I’m meeting your grandfather at the golf club.” He kissed his wife’s cheek. “See you later. I’ll be back in time to see you off, Andie.”
“Please remember we have that pre-fashion week reception at eight tonight!” Mrs Persaud reminded him.
“Why do I have to go to that?” Dr Persaud complained. “It’s just going to be a bunch of fashion designers talking about hemlines and spring lines…”
Mrs Persaud looked at her husband curiously. “Do you love me, Andrew?”
“Of course I do, dear!” Dr Persaud replied.
“Do you want me to be unhappy?”
“Of course not.”
“Do you want me to be less than my beautiful and charming self tonight, in front of the fashion pubic – which you know I will be if you aren’t with me, Andrew?”
“No, dear.”
“You don’t want Izzy to go under, do you, Andrew?”
“No, dear!”
“Well then, remember the reception tonight.
“Yes, dear.”
Andie giggled at the look of pure pity on her father’s face as he waved goodbye.
After breakfast, the remaining Persauds went their separate ways. Mrs Persaud had conference calls with other designers across the Caribbean. Samantha retired to her bedroom and Christopher spent the day following Nursey around. Andie went to her bedroom, and tried to concentrate on writing an essay for her English for Academic Purposes course, but it was not happening. She kept daydreaming about what her night with Nathan would be like. She wondered where he would take her, and what they would talk about. She wondered whether he would kiss her at the end of the evening. She blushed, thinking about Nathan kissing her. She doubt he would. She was not the kind of girl that guys kissed. Andie sighed and left her desk. She looked at herself in the mirror. She did not look like someone’s girlfriend, particularly not the girlfriend of a guy like Nathan Hansen. Someone’s sister, or baby cousin, but not girlfriend. Maybe if she looked different. Andie wished she had a different look to go on her first date – like getting her hair cut. She wondered whether she could persuade her mother to take her to the salon. She decided to ask.
She bounded down the stairs and pushed the door to her mother’s office.
“Mommy, can you…” She began, but Mrs Persaud silenced her with the wave of her hand. She was still on the telephone, obviously upset with someone.
“Melani has already signed the contract, Jason!” She barked. “She cannot now decide to model ‘Contessas’ signature piece!”
Andie waited for five minutes before realising her mother would not be entertaining her any time soon. She was busy threatening to sic Izzy’s battery of over-paid lawyers on supermodel and super diva, Melani. She went back upstairs, and knocked on Samantha’s bedroom door.
“Yeah?” Samantha called, and Andie went in.
“Do you think I should cut my hair, Sammy?” She asked.
Samantha turned from her Economics texts and looked at her sister. “What?”
“For tonight. I want a different look,” Andie explained. “Could you take me to get my hair cut?”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Samantha said. “There’s nothing wrong with your hair that a good conditioner can’t fix. Go back to your room and don’t bother me. I am busy.”
Andie slammed out of Samantha’s room and went downstairs to the kitchen. Theresa was mixing a batter.
“How your face set so?” Theresa asked her.
“You think I’m pretty, Theresa?” Andie asked.
“Like money!” Theresa said.
“You think I would be prettier with my hair cut short?”
“You can’t cut off your pretty hair!” Theresa exclaimed. “Why you want to do that?”
“To look different.”
“Well, nothing not wrong with how you look now,” Theresa assured her. “All you want to do is wash it and brush it out. It look knotty because you go swim this morning without your swim cap.”
Andie nodded, remembering what Samantha had said. She had allowed her hair to air dry, and the chlorine had dried in it, causing it to look kinky.
Theresa was still mixing her batter. “You know what is good for your hair? Egg and cooking oil.”
“Eggs and cooking oil?” Andie questioned.
“Yeah man!” Theresa continued. “The protein in the egg yolk and the oil will make your hair shiny and soft.”
“Really?” Andie asked. She ruffled her hair. It was badly in need of a deep conditioning.
“Most conditioners are made with egg yolk and oil, anyway” Theresa concluded. She offered Andie some of the batter on a spoon. “You want a taste?”
Andie took the spoon, and went back to her room deep in thought. Maybe she should try an egg and oil conditioner in her hair. Her mother was still busy, and Samantha would not leave her homework to take her to the salon. As she sat at her desk licking the spoon, Andie’s mind was buzzing. She couldn’t go to the salon, but she was sure Theresa had eggs in the fridge and cooking oil in the pantry. Half-hour later, she snuck down the stairs to the kitchen. Theresa was not there, and she was glad. She opened up the pantry and pulled out a bottle of corn oil. She carefully placed one dozen eggs into a mixing bowl, and with the bottle of oil under her arm and snuck back to her bedroom. She was not sure how much to use, but she did have a lot of hair, so she broke six of the eggs, and poured half of the bottle of corn oil into the bowl and mixed them together. She took the bowl into the bathroom that separated her bedroom from Samantha’s, and took off her t-shirt. She leaned over the sink and poured the mixture onto her hair, and rubbed it in. It was like rubbing in shampoo, but without the lather. Theresa had not stated how long she should keep the eggs and oil on her hair, but Andie figured the longer the better. She wrapped a towel around her head, put
on another shirt, and went back to her desk. She kept imagining how gorgeous her hair would be when she washed it out. Everybody, her mother, her sister, and most importantly, Nathan, would be commenting on how shiny and bouncy her hair was.
Ten minutes later, the smell of the eggs began to get to Andie, and her scalp began to itch. She was about to go to the bathroom and wash her hair when Christopher burst into her room.
“What are we doing?”
“Christopher!” She screamed. “Do not burst in here like that! What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m sorry!” Christopher shouted. He sniffed around the room. “What smells so?”
“What smells how?” Andie asked, suddenly embarrassed by her experiment.
“Something smells like egg.” Christopher observed.
“Perhaps you’re hungry,” Andie suggested, pushing him towards the door. “Go and ask Theresa to make you something to eat.”
“I’m not hungry,” Christopher said, refusing to be ushered out of his sister’s room. “The eggy smell is coming from you, and it’s a bad eggy smell. Why is your head in a towel?”
“I’m conditioning my hair,” Andie told him patiently. “I’m very busy, Christopher. Can you go and bother someone else, please?”
“Conditioner?” Christopher wrinkled his nose. “That’s the stinkiest conditioner I have ever smelled in my whole life!”
“Andie, why is there a box of eggs and a bottle of corn oil in the bathroom?” Samantha asked, entering Andie’s bedroom from their adjoining bathroom.
Andie’s heart fell to her feet. “I –I …”
“Good God, what died in here?” Samantha continued. “You smell like crap. Did you bedaub yourself with raw eggs or something?”
“Can I please have some privacy?” Andie screamed.
“What’s the screaming about in here?” Mrs Persaud asked, coming into Andie’s room. “And what is that foul, raw smell?”
“Andie is up to something weird!” Christopher announced. “It has something to do with the eggs and oil that Sammy found in the bathroom. I think she thought they were conditioner!”
“What are you doing, Andie?” Mrs Persaud asked. “Did you put eggs and oil on your hair?”
Andie began to cry. “Leave me alone, all of you!” She sobbed, rushing into the bathroom.
“Andie…” her mother went after her.
“Our sister has gone nuts!” Christopher commented, shaking his head sadly. “She went and made an omelette on her head!”
“Come on, old man,” Samantha said as she ushered Christopher out of Andie’s room. “Let’s take the rest of these things back to Theresa.”
In the end, it took three different shampoos to get the greasiness of the oil and smell of the eggs out of Andie’s hair. Rosilda, for one, was not impressed, as it meant she had to re-clean Andie’s bedroom and the bathroom, to get the rawness out, and wash the four towels Mrs Persaud had used in fixing Andie’s hair.
“This pickney is too idle!” She grumbled as she wiped the floor. “Mi granny always say ‘idle jackass pick up cane trash carry go a poun’!’ The whole place stink o’hegg!”
She took the towels and bathroom rugs downstairs, still quarrelling.
“Why you miserable so, Rosie?” Theresa asked her, feeling guilty for having put the egg and oil idea in Andie’s head in the first place. “Give the child a break, man!”
Rosilda shot her a withering cut of the eye that could have caused her meringue to flop.
As for Andie’s hair, after all the trauma, it turned out looking just the same as before.
“I only wanted to look different, Mommy,” she cried on her mother’s lap.
“I know, my heart,” Mrs Persaud said, trying to comfort her. “You wanted to look pretty for the boy you like.”
Andie sniffled, piteously. “I’m such an idiot. I don’t see why he wants to go out with me anyway. I’m not pretty, and I am going to smell like raw eggs forever.”
“No you won’t smell like raw eggs forever!” Her mother said, stroking the traumatised hair, that was now blow-dried and in a ponytail. “You don’t smell like raw eggs now! And you are absolutely beautiful. You have beautiful eyes and beautiful hair and beautiful skin, and most importantly, a beautiful heart. I’m sure Nathan already knows all that, and he likes you. That’s why he asked you out”
“I don’t know that he likes me,” Andie disagreed. “And if he even does, I’m sure he’s going to change his mind once he gets to know me. He’s going to start asking Samantha out. Everybody usually prefers Samantha more than me. You and Daddy do, Grandma and Grandpa do, even Rosilda prefers Samantha.”
“I don’t prefer Samantha,” Christopher said, coming into the room. “I actually like you better. You keep things interesting around here.”
“Christopher, I heard Nursey calling you for a cookie,” His mother told him. “Go, and bring one back for Andie. It will help her feel better.”
Christopher scurried away at the promise of a cookie, hopefully, a big, soft coconut one like Theresa always made.
“No one loves Samantha more than you, Andie,” Mrs Persaud continued, hugging Andie. “Your father and I love you just as much as we love Samantha. And Rosilda hates everybody, even Daddy and me.” She kissed Andie’s forehead. “You still have a long time to kill before Nathan comes to get you. I have to run an errand on the road. I want you to cheer up. Listen to some music or watch some TV or read a book, but you have to be in a good mood when Nathan gets here. I’m sure he did not bargain on going out with a sad girl tonight.” She stood. “Can I get a smile before I go, please?”
Andie attempted a wobbly half smile that made her look like she had suffered a small stroke. Her mother ruffled her head.
“Poor baby,” She said as she left the room. “Life isn’t that hard, you know!”
Andie moped around the house for the rest of the day. She almost phoned Nathan twice, to cancel. But deep inside, she really wanted to go out with him, so she resisted the urge. It was not Nathan’s fault that she was a clumsy goof. Besides, as she told her mother, once he had spent some time with her, he would never ask her out again, anyway. She may as well go out and enjoy the evening with him. Then afterwards, she would have her memories to keep her for the rest of her life. When she was ninety-five, and a lonely spinster, she would draw back on her memories of her one special evening with the handsome, curly haired boy of twenty, who had helped her with her Politics paper and taken her out on her first and only date.
Andie lay on her stomach and buried her face in her pillow. It sucked being her, she thought. She did not care what her mother said. If she was a beautiful fashion designer, married to a handsome University lecturer, and had a daughter as poised and as wonderful as Samantha, who would never put eggs and cooking oil on her hair, she would love that daughter more than the other one.
At six o’clock, Andie started getting dressed for her date. By six thirty, she was ready, dressed in one of her school jeans and a long sleeved green plaid shirt. She plaited her hair in a long braid, and secured the end with a green elastic hair fastener. She had polished her toes with her favourite green nail polish, and decided to show them off by wearing a pair of green Miu Miu wedge thongs that she had forgotten she owned. She was digging through her closet trying to find the Miu Miu handbag that matched the shoes, when Samantha came into her room.
“Aren’t you going to get ready for your date?” Samantha asked. “Nathan will be here soon.”
“I am ready,” Andie said, from her hands and knees in her closet.
“You must be mad!” Samantha said in shock. “You – you can’t go out dressed like that!”
“I go to school dressed like this every day!” Andie pointed out, standing up.
“But this is different, do-do head!” Samantha said. She was convinced her sister was indeed crazy. “
This is a date. You can’t go on a date with a boy dressed like that. Are you trying to upset Nathan and embarrass our family? What will people who see you tonight think of Izzy when the daughter of the CEO goes on a date looking scruffy?”
“I don’t look scruffy, I don’t care what people think, and I’m not changing!” Andie declared stubbornly.
“Well, you are right about not caring about what people think,” Samantha argued. “But as for changing, we will see about that! Mommy!”
Andie’s heart sank when her mother came into her bedroom. The disapproving look Mrs Persaud gave her made her realise it was all over. She unbuttoned her shirt, and gave over herself, like a lamb to the slaughter, to her mother and sister.
***
At promptly seven o’clock, Nathan pulled up to the gates of the Persauds’ house and rang the bell on the intercom.
“Yes?” A voice he instantly recognised as Dr Andrew Persaud’s answered.
“Good evening Dr Persaud,” Nathan said, speaking directly into the intercom. “It’s Nathan Hansen here to pick up Andie.”
“Come right in, Nathan,” Dr Persaud replied, opening the gate.
Nathan cruised up the driveway. He was actually nervous. These were extremely unnatural circumstances under which he was meeting his lecturer. He hoped Dr Persaud was not one of those fathers who scared their daughter’s dates. He had picked up a girl once, whose father had said to him “Don’t do anything to upset my daughter. If you do, she will tell me, and I will kill you and feed your body to my bullmastiff. I don’t think anyone will miss you.” Nathan smiled to himself, remembering Lisa Pitter. She had flung herself at him in the worst way that night, and he had been too much of a gentleman to turn down her advances, and Mr Pitter had been satisfied that Nathan had treated his daughter well. He had gone out with her twice after that, then left Montego Bay for UWI. He never spoke to her again.
Nathan parked in the front driveway and got out of the car. Dr Persaud and Christopher were waiting for him at the door.
