Gray Hair Don't Care

by Karen Booth

  On the morning of the Good Day USA appearance, Donovan arranged for a car and driver to take them. He wanted to make sure she arrived on set on time and in one piece, and Lela was thankful because she already felt like she was falling apart. He texted her when he arrived and she rushed out her front door, locking the deadbolt behind her and stuffing her keys into her bag. Luckily, there were no fans this morning. Then again, the sun was just barely up.

  The driver held the door of the big black SUV for her, and she climbed in. One look at Donovan and he took her breath away, which was weird. She saw him nearly every day, so she normally didn’t gawk, but he was rocking some extra mojo today. His eyes were darker and more intense, and his facial scruff a little more scruffy.

  “Morning, sunshine,” he said, handing her a coffee.

  She took the cup after buckling in. One sip and she knew he’d ordered her favorite—an almond milk mocha. “Thank you. I barely had time to throw a cup of yesterday’s coffee in the microwave.”

  He adorably scrunched up his nose. “You drink day-old coffee?”

  “All the time. It’s like the best gas station coffee you’ve ever had.”

  “I think I’ll take your word for it.”

  When they arrived at the network studios, the driver turned into a secure parking garage, which gave them direct access to the Good Day USA set. Still, there was an odd hubbub when they got inside—Lela felt like an animal at the zoo, everyone looking at her. She decided her reaction was merely a lovely cocktail of nerves and paranoia. Also, she’d better get used to it. A whole lot of people were going to be watching her when the cameras went live.

  A production assistant escorted Donovan and her to a small dressing room, with the instructions to wait until she was called to set.

  Lela took the time to over-scrutinize herself in the mirror. “Do I look okay?” She’d worn a slim-fitting white sheath dress and heels, applying the Jackie O rule of restraint when accessorizing, only wearing simple silver earrings and a bracelet. She wanted to come across as successful and professional, even when inside she was just a fifty-year-old woman who sometimes felt confident and other times unsure. Stumbling into an absurd situation no one could’ve predicted didn’t add to her confidence. It made her question the wisdom of trying so hard to claim it.

  “You look amazing.” Donovan seemed totally at ease, reclining on the small sofa with one arm draped over the back.

  “Thanks. I hate having my picture taken, so the idea of being on camera in front of millions of people makes me want to throw up.” She checked her makeup one last time, then began reapplying lipstick. “I’m trying not to think about it.”

  “You do seem a little on edge.”

  “I don’t want to let anyone down. Like you. Or Echo. And I know my parents will be watching, and they’ll make a big deal about it because they always make a big deal about everything.”

  “Are they still coming to town?”

  “Yes. In a week. Which is, bonus, another reason to be anxious.”

  “Maybe the coffee wasn’t such a great idea.”

  “What? No. I need it. I need to be perky and energetic.”

  “Okay. Because right now you’re acting like a squirrel that’s had too much Halloween candy.”

  She waved him off and grabbed her coffee. “Trust me. I come by all of this nervousness honestly. No amount of coffee will make it worse.” She lifted the cup to her lips, but she was trying to be careful about her lipstick, and hit the lid with her bottom teeth. The plastic top popped off. Almond milk mocha cascaded down onto her pristine white dress. She froze, holding her arms out to the side and staring down at her front, which now looked like a Starbucks crime scene. “Oh, my God. Donovan. My dress!”

  Donovan hopped up and frantically grabbed a box of tissues from the counter beneath the makeup mirror, plucking them out one by one like a terrible magician pulling scarves out of his sleeve. He started dabbing at the stain, pressing into her breast with the side of his hand and poking at the rest of her chest. “Maybe we can get this out.”

  “How, exactly? It’s coffee and chocolate. This will never come out. We have to find somebody to help us.”

  A knock came at the door. Donovan lunged across the room and flung it open. A woman wearing a headset was calmly standing there, staring at her clipboard. “Ms. Bennett, you’re on in fifteen…” She looked up. Her face fell. “Oh, my God, what happened?”

  “Coffee accident. It’s my fault,” Donovan said.

  “I appreciate that you want to be chivalrous by taking the blame, but who cares? I need a dress.” Lela knew she was screeching, but she didn’t know what else to do.

  “One minute. I’ll grab a wardrobe person.” The woman disappeared down the hall.

  “Come on, let’s get you out of this thing.” Giving her zero notice, Donovan drew down the zipper.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Saving time.”

  “But I’m going to be standing here in my underwear.”

  “I’m seen you naked. More than once.”

  “So? That doesn’t give you a lifetime pass, buddy.”

  Another woman appeared in the doorway with a rack of clothing in tow. “What size are you?”

  “Depends,” Lela said. “A ten sometimes, but a twelve is probably safer. Or maybe a fourteen because I don’t want it to be too tight.”

  The woman looked at Lela like she was the candy-crazed squirrel Donovan had accused her of being earlier. “Let’s go with this. It’s stretchy.” She handed over a royal blue dress with a similar silhouette to the white one. “Get it on as quickly as possible. And try not to mess up your hair. It’s half of the reason you’re on the show.”

  Donovan grabbed the dress and closed the door. Lela wanted to cry, and she let out a whimper, but she wasn’t going to give herself the luxury. She had to soldier on.

  “It’s going to be okay. I promise. Let’s just get you into this,” Donovan said calmly. “Everything will be fine. You’re going to be great.”

  “Funny, but you reassuring me that everything will be okay is just reminding me that everything is not, in fact, okay.” She kicked off her shoes and slipped the stained dress from her shoulders.

  “And you told me that I’m the only person who can keep you calm. So that’s what I’m doing.” Donovan was being a perfect gentleman, holding the borrowed dress open as she stepped into it while also averting his eyes. She appreciated that he wasn’t taking anything for granted. She pulled on the dress and turned her back to him. As he drew the zipper up, she became more aware of his physical presence, the way his body gave off warmth and his fingers brushed her spine as he traveled north. “I promise it’s going to be okay. You look incredible in blue. It makes your eyes even more stunning.”

  “Thank you. That’s so kind.” She turned and fell prey to his handsome face—the straight line of his nose and those lips she loved to kiss. She’d been at his mercy when they danced at Echo’s wedding, and she’d tried to play it off, but she wasn’t sure she’d done a great job. He’d said a lot of sweet things to her that day. He’d even said he wanted to kiss her. If no one else had been around, and if it hadn’t felt like a big chunk of her future was hanging in the balance, she would’ve said yes. Just to close her eyes, draw in his smell, and have his lips on hers one more time.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She took a deep breath and turned to study herself in the mirror. “I think so.” Examining the state of her hair, it seemed to be all good—she’d used more than enough hairspray.

  Donovan gripped her shoulders from behind, making eye contact with her through the mirror. The reflection of his face was right next to hers, and she tried to ignore how good they looked together. “Everything from here on out is going to go perfectly. The dress was the hiccup and now it’s over. Just go out there and let America fall in love with Lela, exactly like everyone else who meets you.”

  “Not everyone loves me.”

&nbs
p; “Sure they do.”

  You don’t. She knew he wasn’t talking about L-O-V-E, but she still bristled at his use of the word.

  There was a knock at the door, and the woman with the headset told her it was time to go. As they walked down the winding hall and stepped onto the set, Lela once again felt that her life was about to change. A tech hooked up her microphone while Lela spotted two of the Good Day USA hosts, Tilly Ann Bostwick and Renata Herrera. They were the two matriarchs of the show, true TV veterans. As soon as they cut away for commercial, the set director called the all clear, and Lela was swept up on to the set.

  Tilly Ann reached out to shake Lela’s hand. “I’m Tilly Ann. This is Renata. You’re going to do great.”

  “By the way, love the hair,” Renata said.

  “Thanks,” Lela said, getting settled in her chair. The next thing she knew the cameras were on.

  Tilly Ann looked right into the lens. “Lela Bennett is the fifty-year-old founder of New York-based Lela B cosmetics, who made a splash recently with a very sexy ad campaign prominently featuring her gray hair. Ms. Bennett, welcome to the show.”

  Lela smiled thinly, but it felt like her face was made of plastic. “Thank you for having me.”

  “Can you tell us about the origins of your company? What made you want to start it?”

  As Lela jumped to the answer in her head, she realized how much of this led back to Donovan. And he was standing right there in the shadows of the studio, listening to everything. “I was forty-seven and divorced. I’d been a makeup artist for years, and I didn’t know what came next for me, but I really wanted a change. And I wanted to challenge myself to take some chances. I’d made several makeup formulations over the years for clients, and they always loved the products, so I decided that it was the perfect time to put myself out there.”

  “I think a lot of women can relate to wanting a change after a divorce,” Renata said.

  “I know I can,” Tilly Ann quipped. Everyone knew she’d been married several times.

  “How did your decision to go gray fit into that? Did something happen? Because a lot of people look at those photographs, think they’re great, but then wonder why you wouldn’t just color your hair.”

  Lela swallowed hard, but sat a little straighter. She was proud about this. She wanted to own that pivotal life moment, even when it had hurt. “It was about two months after my divorce. I ran into an old friend, a man I really liked a lot. A man I really cared about. And he rejected me…”

  “I bet he feels pretty stupid right now,” Tilly Ann said, apparently playing the role of comic relief.

  “You know, I don’t hold it against him. He had his reasons,” Lela said. “And it did spur me to make a change. My hair was already going gray and I was so tired of schlepping to the salon to have it covered up. The morning after the rejection, I saw my gray sparkle in the light from my bathroom window and I had to ask myself, why was I trying to hide my sparkle?”

  Both Renata and Tilly Ann lit up like a Christmas tree, smiling and eyes wide.

  “What a fun way to say it,” Renata said. “It sounds like something from a T-shirt.”

  “I wish I had the nerve to go gray,” Tilly Ann said. “I’m still holding on to my ash blond for dear life.”

  Lela laughed, but she did want to drive this point home. “But that’s the whole point. It’s such a personal decision. And so much of it is decided for us. Society tells us that we have to look young, and that young is better. As women, so much of the value we’re assigned has to do with youth. We’re told when we’re young that it’s the worst thing in the world to get older, and particularly to look older. But then you get to your late forties or you turn fifty and realize it’s all a lie. You don’t feel that different, and so much in life is actually better.”

  “What do you think is better?” Renata asked.

  “You’re more comfortable in your own skin. You care less about what other people think. The sex can be better, too.”

  Both women leaned in closer. “Yes,” they chimed in unison.

  “You’ve lost a lot of your inhibitions,” Lela said. “That makes sex a lot more fun.” Of course, she’d only been able to really unleash that on Donovan, but she did genuinely feel that way.

  “And what is it like to be this sexy beauty icon?”

  “Honestly? It’s very strange. I realize that I’m in those pictures, but deep down, I still see the awkward girl I was in high school or in college. I don’t dwell on it now, but it’s there in the back of my head. I don’t think that insecurity ever goes away when you aren’t someone who turns heads.”

  “But you are one of those women now, aren’t you?” Tilly Ann asked.

  “Any attention I’m getting now, I hope it helps other women feel good about embracing whatever puts them outside any narrow ideals of beauty. There is so much that can make a person beautiful. Own what you’ve got going on.”

  Renata turned to the camera. “Thanks to our guest, Lela Bennett. If you want to learn more about her line of cosmetics, visit our website for a link.”

  A long awkward pause played out, and then it was over. “We’re clear,” a voice said.

  Tilly Ann and Renata both hopped up out of their chairs and were all over Lela. “We loved having you here. Thank you so much for being a voice for women over fifty,” Tilly Ann said.

  “Yes. It’s nice to hear a different perspective on beauty,” Renata added.

  “Thank you for letting me say my piece,” Lela said.

  Another woman appeared from the shadows of the studio, and reached out to shake Lela’s hand. “Lela, hi. I’m Monica Figueroa. We spoke on the phone. You did a fantastic job today.”

  Lela got up from her chair and stepped out from under the bright studio lights. They walked back to the spot near where Donovan was standing, hands behind his back. A production assistant chased Lela down to uncouple her from her microphone.

  “We’d love to get you back on the show if we can,” Monica said. “Maybe do some makeup tips with Renata and Tilly Ann? We could even talk about running a viewer contest for a makeover? Fly the winner to New York to meet you and have lunch and get a full makeup tutorial and a bunch of Lela B products?”

  Lela could hardly believe any of this was happening, that people in high places wanted things like that from her. “Yes. I’d love to do all of that. Thank you.”

  “Great. We’ll be in touch.”

  Donovan stepped closer. “You were unbelievable.”

  “She’s a real star,” Monica said as she walked away.

  Lela’s face flushed with heat. She did like the compliments, especially from Donovan. “Thank you. You really think I did okay?”

  He took her hand. “You did better than okay. But I’m a little concerned about the way I played into that whole story.”

  “You know all of that. I told you the first day I was in your office.”

  “It still hurts to hear it.”

  Lela wanted privacy if they were going to continue this conversation, plus quiet had been called for on the set. “Come on.” She led Donovan to her dressing room. There was still a puddle of coffee on the floor. Her dress, draped over the arm of the sofa, was likely ruined. “I know it hurts to hear it, but this is just part of life, Donovan. People hurt each other and hopefully we try to do better.”

  He pressed his lips together tightly. “I need to do better. By both of us.”

  “With work?”

  “No, Lela. Us.”

  “Donovan, aside from friendship, there is no us. We’ve been through this.”

  “But I felt like there was something there between us at the wedding.”

  Lela picked up her dress and folded it into a small package. She thought about tossing it into the trash, but hopefully the dry cleaner could work some magic. “There’s always something between us, Donovan. I am always going to be hopelessly attracted to you. It’s just part of our dynamic.”

  “Well, good. Then we’re even.
”

  “How exactly?”

  “I’m hopelessly attracted to you, too. All through the wedding, I was struggling with what to do about it. My brother was in the way, and there’s work to think about…”

  Lela was ready to express surprise at the first chunk of what he’d said, and agree with him on the second half, but she saw the pained expression on his face and felt like something must be wrong. “Are you okay?”

  He squinted slightly and rubbed the center of his chest. “Yeah. I think I ate something that disagreed with me.”

  “Did you ever make an appointment to see a doctor?”

  “No. We just talked about this a few days ago.”

  Lela grumbled under her breath. Why was this so difficult? “Come on, you. We’re taking you to see a doctor.”

  “But I’m fine.”

  “Let’s let a physician determine that.”

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “To see a friend. Don’t worry. You already like her.”

  They met their driver in the garage and Lela texted Delia from the car on their way there. As luck would have it, Delia had a patient cancel, so she was able to see Donovan right away.

  “I can’t believe you took me to the pediatrician.” Donovan sat on the exam table, swinging one leg so his foot clanged the metal base. All around him on the walls were decals of fish and sea creatures, plus a few posters about things like not eating too much junk food and the importance of sneezing into your elbow.

  “We’re both busy. This was the quickest solution. Otherwise, it’s the ER and you could be sitting there forever.”

  “I think they see you right away if you have chest pains,” he said.

  “All the more reason you should have done this a while ago.”

  Delia popped into the room, wearing her white physician’s coat and with her hair pulled back. “How’s my new patient?” Just to drive up the absurdity factor, she giggled a little.

  “He keeps having chest pains. And he won’t make time to see the doctor. I know this seems silly, but I figured this was better than nothing,” Lela said.