by Alexis Gold
“Lucille,” Morgan greeted. “Come on in.”
“Morgan I can’t—”
“Nope,” Morgan interrupted holding up her hands to halt Lucille's speech. “I don’t want to hear any negativity from you. We’re not using words like ‘can’t’ and ‘won’t.’”
“Can we use words like ‘sick’ and ‘scared’? Because I think I’m both.”
Morgan stifled a smile and led Lucille to her living room where she made her take a seat on the sofa. “Now tell me what’s really scaring you.” She spoke in a caring but firm tone.
Lucille sighed deeply, “This is such a huge event that they want me to speak at. I think they made a mistake. They should have picked someone with more experience.”
“You do have experience Lucille,” Morgan reminded her.
“In the past yes,” Lucille replied. “But then I stopped working to have children and raise them and I never went back. I turned my back on that world, and what’s more, I forgot it. I don’t belong there anymore.” She frowned sadly.
“Obviously, lots of people seem to disagree with you,” Morgan said. “Otherwise, they wouldn’t have asked you to speak at this event.”
Lucille looked down at her hands, twisting them in her lap.
“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me Morgan,” Lucille said with all apparent sincerity in her voice. “But like I said, this is a mask I’m wearing. I don’t look like this or dress like this in real life. I’m a forty-six-year-old woman. I’m a wife and a mother. Putting on a fancy dress and some high heels won’t going to change that.”
Morgan leaned in, placing her hand on Lucille’s knee. “This transformation of yours was never meant to change anything about you Lucille. You’ve misunderstood what it’s about. It’s not about covering you up or changing who you are. It’s about enhancing what you already have, highlighting what you already are. You are a wife and a mother, but you’re also a woman, a woman who is both beautiful and intelligent, regardless of age or experience. The makeover is merely symbolic. I’m not trying to change who you are. I’m trying to show you that you’re more than you thought you were.”
Lucille was still looking a little unsure, but Morgan could see the small ray of a break through coming on. She squeezed Lucille’s knee and continued.
“This is what I see when I look at you. I see a strong woman. You would have had to be, to have had such a successful career for so long. I see a brave woman. What else could you call someone who gives up all that success for a quiet life in the suburbs? I see a selfless woman. No one else would have put the needs of their family members above their own, for so long, without asking for anything but their happiness in return. I see a beautiful woman. A woman who doesn’t need fancy clothes or makeup to be beautiful, because beauty is much more than fabric and foundation. It’s in the eyes and the soul. It’s in the confidence you have in yourself. It’s the conviction that you are special, you are important and you deserve this recognition.”
Lucille managed a small, slightly embarrassed smile. “You really see all that?” she asked softly.
“And so much more,” Morgan replied. “I’m here to show you what you’ve overlooked in yourself for so long, and they are all things that already exist. The makeover is just… theatrical. The person you are, that’s what matters.”
Lucille smiled, “You give a good pep talk.”
“Remember what I told you about confidence?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” Morgan said happily. “Confidence is about seeing everything you’ve accomplished, and knowing that you’ve done it on your own. You built a successful career. You’re raising two great kids. You know these things, how can they not make you confident?”
“I’ll be in an auditorium filled with people who’ve done twice what I have,” Lucille countered.
Morgan raised her hands, “Remember what I told you. Confidence doesn’t measure itself against anyone else’s accomplishments. You are unique from everyone else, your experiences have been different, and your circumstances have been different. Look at yourself, and yourself alone.”
Lucille nodded along with Morgan’s words.
“Tell me Lucille,” Morgan said softly. “Are you proud of yourself?”
Lucille looked down at her hands for a moment. “I… I’m proud of my children,” she said finally. “They’re such good kids. I’m more proud of them every day.”
“And who raised them?” Morgan asked pointedly.
Lucille smiled.
“Listen to me Lucille,” Morgan said. “Your kids are a reflection of you. Your home and your husband; these are all reflections of who you are and what you’ve accomplished. Look at the things you are most proud of in your life. I think you’ll be surprised to see just how much you have to do with them.”
Lucille nodded, her expression was growing more and more sure. “You’re right… I know you’re right…”
“But you’re scared,” Morgan finished for her. “I understand that, but I also know that you can do this, and do it well. You just need to believe it, too.”
Lucille took a deep breath. “Thank you Morgan. You’ve been so great through this whole process. A shrink and a stylist all rolled into one.”
Morgan laughed, “Thank you. I hope I helped.”
“You did,” Lucille assured her. “A lot.”
“I’m glad,” Morgan responded. “Now how about some Irish coffee before you go?”
“Irish?” Lucille repeated.
Morgan laughed, “A little liquid courage that won’t get you pulled over.”
Lucille smiled, “I’d love some.”
Morgan got up and walked around to her kitchen, keeping her fingers crossed for Lucille’s sake. As Lucille was getting into her car, Morgan came up to her.
“I have a one more bit of advice for you before you head off,” Morgan told her.
“Tell me.”
“There’s one thing you need to remember before you walk out onto that stage.”
“What’s that?” Lucille, asked listening intently.
“You have to remember that it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks,” Morgan said firmly and with conviction.
Lucille stared at Morgan for split second and then she nodded once, “I’ll remember that.”
“Good luck,” Morgan said with an encouraging smile.
“Thank you again, Morgan,” Lucille said sincerely, before starting her engine.
As soon as Lucille left, Morgan went back to her room and sat on her bed. Mowgli was still there, purring contentedly in his sleep. She shook her head at him, knowing that the lazy day she had planned for herself was not going to happen. She took off her jeans and shirt and exchanged them for a bright blue dress with silver studs down the front. She paired them with her favorite pair of nude heels and stepped in front of her full length mirror.
She had cut off her hair last year, opting for a nice close shave around her head. She had loved the decision, she always felt light and floaty, as though there was nothing holding her down. Without hair falling all over her eyes and neck, the shape of her face was put on full display. It was a perfect elongated oval, with hollowed in cheeks that gave her an exotic African princess vibe. Ever since her new hair style, or lack thereof, people had mistaken her for Lupita N’yongo, a mistake she was happy for people to make. It was an understandable however, she had the same dark chocolate coloring and the same thick full lips and slender figure. Morgan wasn’t especially aware of her looks. The one feature she had never been critical of were her eyes. They were large and black, making the whites of her eyes clearer and more prominent.
Morgan clipped on some drop earrings and applied a little nude lip gloss. Then she served Mowgli his breakfast and with that, she made her way outside to her car. She drove to the resort where she knew Lucille speech was taking place. She found the hall easily and took a seat in one of the back rows. She thought she could make out Lucille’s husband and children in the fron
t row, but she couldn’t be sure. She settled into her seat and waited for it to begin.
***
Almost two hours later, Morgan managed to make her way through the crowd, to where Lucille stood, surrounded by a crowd of people. She walked forward and caught Lucille’s eye through the mass of bodies.
“Morgan!” Lucille exclaimed delightedly. “I can’t believe you’re here!”
Morgan smiled reaching over and giving her a hug, “I had to come.”
“Oh I’m so glad you did,” Lucille said, sounding touched and thrilled at the same time. “This was so nice of you, and on your day off too.”
“I must thank you, this turned out to be one of my better days off.”
“You liked my speech?”
“It was great,” Morgan replied. “But I expected that.”
“It was all thanks to you,” Lucille told her. “I was so nervous before I walked onto that stage, and then I remembered your last minute advice.”
“It worked?”
“Amazingly well,” Lucille responded, clasping her hands together as if in prayer. “I repeated your words to myself and it hit me. You were completely right. I doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. The only people whose opinion matters are my husband’s and my children’s, and I already had their support, and after I realized that, I didn’t feel so nervous anymore.”
Morgan smiled, feeling completely gratified. “See? I told you. You had the confidence all along. You just needed someone to show you where to find it.”
Lucille gave her a huge smile. “Come on. I want you to meet my family.”
Lucille linked her hand around Morgan’s and led her in the direction of her family, as Morgan sighed to herself in contentment. Another happy client to check off her list, another job successfully completed. It had not been the lazy, relaxing day she had hoped for, but it had been a good one all the same.
***
Morgan walked into the lobby of the Eleanor Heart Department Store. The floors were marble, the ceiling was glass and lights glistened from every nook and cranny illuminating the shopping complex until it came alive with color, highlighting the clothes displayed on its racks and its models. Morgan found Leslie at her desk, dressed in the customary regulation white shirt, black skirt, and matching coat.
“Hi hon.” she greeted Leslie.
“Morgan!” Leslie said in surprise. “I didn’t expect you in here today. Aren’t you supposed to be lying in bed with that interdependent cat of yours?”
Morgan rolled her eyes at the last comment, “That was the plan, but one of clients had a crisis and I felt I needed to be there for her.”
“Lucille?”
“Yes.”
“How’d she do?”
“She did very well,” Morgan replied filled with pride. “She really pulled off a fantastic speech.”
“That’s great,” Leslie replied. “You must he happy.”
“I'm so happy,” Morgan confirmed. “It’s so satisfying when you see that confidence in their eyes. It’s as though you’ve given them a new lease on life.”
Leslie nodded, “I’ve always said it: you have a gift when it comes to people.”
Morgan took the compliment with a smile. “Well, since I was up and dressed, I thought I’d come down and take a look at your new collection. I just want to familiarize myself with it, in case I need to add to any of my client’s wardrobes.”
“Follow me,” Leslie said, leading her towards another section of the massive store.
Display racks had been set up in graceful concave circles from which hung the new collection. There were lots of splashes of color and several different designs.
“Hmm, crop tops are in fashion now, I can see,” Morgan observed taking a closer look at a particularly beautiful green silk cut out crop top.
“It’s being designed in increasingly more sophisticated styles. It’s jumped the fence into an evening look.”
“Does this one come with a skirt?” Morgan asked, fingering the green crop top.
Leslie looked through the rack, and pulled out two separate options. “It comes with a pencil skirt in a soft teal color,” she said holding out the skirt for Morgan to inspect. “But there is also a high-waisted white organza skirt that goes with it, too.”
“This would be perfect for Lisa,” Morgan said, “She needs to break out of her comfort zone a little. A crop top might be the perfect way for her to do that.”
“Should I set it aside for you?”
“Just the top,” Morgan said thoughtfully. “I might decide to pair it with some pants, instead of a skirt. Lisa might be more comfortable with that. I don’t want to completely scare her.”
Leslie shook her head at Morgan in admiring disbelief. “I will never understand how you manage to read your clients so well. It’s like you know them inside out after one meeting with them.”
“Oh it’s hardly one meeting,” Morgan corrected with a smile. “It takes at least three.”
Leslie laughed, “Looks like we’ve just entered my lunch break. Wanna join me for a bite?”
“Always,” Morgan replied enthusiastically. "Let's go to the café around the corner. I love their pasta.”
Leslie shot a pained look her way, “It astounds me how you manage to maintain that trim figure and still gobble down your weight in pasta.”
Morgan laughed as they made their way to the café, “I run every day for ten miles.”
“Yes I know,” Leslie said wrinkling her nose. “You are the most perplexing creature I have ever met.”
“I like running.”
“Sometimes I wish I could be like you, just without the running,” Leslie said teasingly.
The two of them settled into a table outside the café and ordered. Morgan went with the spinach pasta with scallops and prawns and Leslie ordered the carrot gnocchi with mushrooms and chicken.
“How are the wedding plans going?” Morgan asked, having sated their hunger on breadsticks.
“Coming along,” Leslie replied. “I keep changing my mind though.”
“Some things never change,” Morgan observed, “just so long as you don’t change your mind where the groom is concerned.”
Leslie laughed, “Thankfully he’s the one thing I’m sure about.”
Morgan nodded. She was truly happy for her friend, but she couldn’t help feel a little sad for herself. She had never had that feeling about a guy. She had never felt safe or sure about any one of her previous boyfriends. Leslie noticed her preoccupation.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Morgan sighed, “I guess I was thinking about my sad track record with men.”
Leslie expression changed to one of sympathy, “Aw hon, you’ve just going through a bad patch.”
“That’s lasted two years?”
“It’s been known to happen.”
“But does it have to happen to me?”
Leslie laughed, “How about I set you up? Mathew has some friends that I don’t think you’ve met—”
“No, no, and no.” Morgan repeated firmly. “I don’t do blind dates.”
“It wouldn’t be blind. It’ll just be a casual setup.”
“I don’t do set ups either.”
Leslie sighed. “You’re a handful,” she said pursing up her lips.
“I know what I want.”
“Who’s to say you can’t find exactly what you want this way?”
Morgan sighed, “It shouldn’t be forced or engineered Leslie. It has to happen naturally.”
“But if it doesn’t, wouldn’t you like a little help?”
“I haven’t reached that point yet,” Morgan said, hoping that was true.
“You’re twenty-eight Morgan, and you haven’t had a serious relationship in over two years. It’s time to get proactive now.”
“I don’t know why I’m worried about this,” Morgan said trying to sound dismissive now. “I’m too busy for a relationship anyway.”
Leslie rolled her eye
s, “You need someone to come home to besides you cat.”
“His name is Mowgli,” Morgan pointed out.
Leslie laughed, “I swear, sometimes I worry you’re going to become one of those crazy cat ladies.”
“I don’t know why people make such a fuss about crazy cat ladies. Seems like a perfectly reasonable life choice to me.”
Leslie cracked up at that, and Morgan had no choice but to join her.
“Listen,” Morgan said more seriously when they had finally calmed down. “It’ll happen when it’s supposed to. I’ll meet a nice guy. I’ll fall, he’ll fall, and we’ll live happily ever after. The end.”
“Sounds simple when you say it like that,” Leslie said slowly.
“It is,” Morgan said confidently. “The key is to not obsess over things. Just relax and let things happen on their own.”
Leslie nodded. “I suppose it’s not the worst philosophy to have.”
They had just finished eating when Morgan’s phone began to ring. She scooted to the side so that she could take the call quietly. She answered in her best business-like tone, knowing that this was a potential client on the other line.
“Morgan Akenzua,” she smiled.
“Morgan Akenzua—the image consultant?”
“The very same,” Morgan replied.
The voice on the other side sounded a little shaky, uncertain and very nervous. She had learned early on to read the undercurrents in people’s voices.
“Oh good… I guess I would like to hire you?”
It sounded like a question.
“Can I have your name sir?”
“Oh, right… sorry,” he said with a nervous laugh. “My name is Calvin. Calvin Harris, and your name is?”
Morgan looked in confusion at the phone, before placing it to her ear again. “Umm… Morgan—”
“Oh God, I’m sorry. Of course I know what you’re name is. I’m just a little—”
“Nervous?” Morgan offered.
“Very,” he answered her, wiping his palm over his pants.
“Well you have no reason to be,” Morgan said in a friendly tone.
