Accidental Makeovers

by Carol Maloney Scott

  She listens to the story, and I am expecting her to comment on the sadness of the marriage that will never be, the waste of money on the wedding, or the distress of the parents.

  But no.

  “Well, I could have told you that guy was gay.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Max

  “You mother fu—”

  “Hey, watch your language in front of this baby! If you weren’t playing those stupid video games all day, maybe you wouldn’t be so—”

  Bianca’s face is almost as flaming red as her hair, as she covers Mick’s ears. He’s banging on the baby drums, so therefore he can’t hear shit.

  “Take it easy, Birdie!”

  I smile at my girl, but my pet name for her only riles her up more. I wish she would relax.

  “Max, you do need to watch your language. We all do. This little guy is going to be talking soon.” Grandma Sharon kisses Mick’s head and narrowly avoids a poke in the eye with the drumstick.

  I’m starting him young. I like to let him bang on my real drum set, too. I keep telling the guys in the band that we have the next generation in training. So far between us, the band members have three boys and a girl. And Jon’s wife is getting ready to pop another one out of the oven any day now.

  Yes, my son is named after the legendary Rolling Stones frontman. I tease Bianca that I want enough boys to recreate the whole band. She doesn’t like the names Charlie or Ron, but if I’m lucky, I could get a Keith.

  Unfortunately, I’m not too lucky with my woman these days, but I know Mama Osbourne is right about the bad language in front of the little guy.

  Bianca’s mother’s name is Sharon Osbourne. When I first met her I thought that was the coolest thing in the world. She even has the short red hair. But of course, Ozzy’s wife is British and quite a bit older than my sort-of mother-in-law.

  Bianca was a surprise for teen mother Sharon. She’s only in her early forties with a twenty-five year old. She makes my Ma and Pop look ancient.

  I just died in the game because of all of this commotion. I should set my PS4 up in the play room, but I’ve been told that Mick shouldn’t be exposed to the violence. So then they come in here to hang out while I’m playing, and stick the kid in front of the drums. They make no sense. I think Bianca does it to bust my balls.

  I take this opportunity to come up behind Bianca, while she’s talking to her mother, and kiss her neck.

  “Stop it. Can you please take out the trash?”

  I sigh and stand up to my full height, towering over the women on the couch.

  “Yes, Dear. But the garbage men don’t come until tomorrow morning. It’s not even four o’clock.”

  I’m trying to enjoy a peaceful Sunday. The band had a gig last night and we got in late. I didn’t drink too much, but my brother, Rob was hammered as usual. At least he stays sober for his guitar solos.

  Bianca worked a wedding last night, and when I got in, she was still awake and wired—telling me about how the bride offered her a job doing makeup. Sounded fishy to me.

  Bianca is still staring at me, so I grab the little guy and head out to the kitchen to gather up the bags.

  “Come on, help Daddy. Some day women will nag you to do sh…stuff like this. All men are lazy in their eyes.”

  “It’s called ‘doing the pooch.’” Sharon cranes her neck and laughs.

  Is she talkin’ to me?

  Bianca smirks and says, “Mom, what does that mean? Oh don’t tell me—you’re trying to learn the urban slang again.”

  “Well, I told you I wanted to get more in touch with the young people. Ever since I turned forty, I feel like I’m slipping, and everyone I employ is young. If they’re being lazy on the job, I’d like to speak in their language to get them motivated.”

  She starts typing on her laptop, probably pulling up the urban dictionary in order to continue to insult me in the hippest way.

  I shake my head and say, “Nobody says that.”

  Bianca, in a rare show of agreement with me, says, “He’s right, Mom. And half of your staff are college students from suburbia. No one talks like that.”

  Sharon purses her lips and says, “Well, fine. Just the other day one of the girls told me to ‘fly my freak flag’ and I had to look that up.”

  “Okay, that one is a thing, but really Mom, you don’t have to talk like that.”

  “Plus you’re insulting little Phoebe here. She’s a hard worker.” I scoop up the little white mop and continue. “Just the other day she worked super hard at eating my best work socks. Didn’t you? Little, lazy pooch?”

  She licks my face and I rub her little head. At least one woman in this house likes me.

  “Daddy, out.” Mick is dragging me by the leg. He wants to help me take the trash out so he can go outside. I should play with him more, but these video games are so addictive.

  Of course, I would never admit that to the others in this room.

  I put Phoebe back on the ground, and she and Mick run to the door.

  Not only does my beloved girlfriend think I’m a slack-ass (more urban slang from Sharon), she also thinks I am unsupportive of her dreams. I tried to explain to her that she can’t just be a makeup artist overnight. She knows nothing about business.

  It’s taken my brother, Rob and me years to build up our business. We started Buczkowski Brothers Air Conditioning & Refrigeration ten years ago, when I graduated from high school. Bianca thinks I’m lazy, but if it wasn’t for me my older brother would be playing video games on welfare. Or in jail.

  As I walk past the Osbourne women, they are deep in conversation. I am being followed closely by a sixteen-month-old making highly rhythmic drumming noises, and a continuously hungry piglet of a dog, hoping the trash bag will burst open and reveal delicious morsels of…what the hell did she just say? I pause at the door and pretend to secure the trash bag more tightly.

  “Honey, I think you should go for it. So this Eric guy is going to call you tomorrow?”

  “That’s what Raven said.”

  I put the trash down. I can’t resist interfering, and once I get outside the two little ones aren’t going to want to come in, so who knows what I’m going to miss.

  “You didn’t tell me some guy was calling you. What does he have to do with anything?”

  Bianca sighs and says, “I told you all of this last night, but of course you were too drunk to…anyway, Eric is Raven’s business manager. He handles all of her salons.”

  “Okay, so he’s like an older guy. Like a lawyer or something?”

  I put my hands in my pockets and try to look casual. I don’t want her to think I’m jealous, because I’m not. Even if he is a young guy, he’s probably some nerdy number cruncher. I can bench press three-twenty-five!

  “Max, there are young lawyers. And no, I think he’s a finance guy.”

  “Oh. Well, maybe I should go with you.” Her eyes widen and I can see the steam coming out of her ears. “Just to help—you don’t know anything about business. If this is legit, it could be good, but it seems too good to be true.”

  “Well, I think it’s an excellent opportunity. Just with the wedding business alone that Violet and I can send her way, Bianca will have an instant following.”

  “Well, if you and Violet are so gung-ho about Bianca’s dreams, why didn’t you ever recommend her before?”

  I fold my arms across my chest. I’ve got the upper hand now.

  “Dada, peez, side!”

  Mick is hanging off my leg again and Phoebe is circling the entry way carpet, clearly looking for a good piss spot. Of course, that will be my fault…

  “Okay, little buddy. We’re goin’ outside.”

  I pick him up and he punches the air, like taking out the trash is as great as getting tickets to a sold out show.

  I look at Bianca and say, “Hey, I do want you to succeed, but be careful. Okay, Birdie?”

  “We’ll talk about it later, that is if you can kill enough zombies in time to
come to bed before it’s time for you to go to work—”

  The front door opens and interrupts my sweetie.

  “I see things are peaceful and harmonious as usual at the Osbourne/Buczkowski Manor.”

  “Hello, Rob. Please wipe your feet. It just rained and—”

  “I wiped them thoroughly, Sharon. Don’t worry.” My brother surveys the scene and says, “So, what’s the latest drama?”

  “They can tell you. I need to take out the trash, and let these two hooligans run around the yard.”

  I leave Rob with the women, and let them share Bianca’s news. Rob and I will talk privately tomorrow. We have lots of time in the van, when we’re out on jobs, to shoot the shit.

  If I don’t shoot myself before this night is over. That damn stubborn woman.

  Bianca

  “So, do you get it, Rob?”

  Max is bad enough, but his older brother is clueless about everything but guitars, sex, beer and video games. I guess he knows how to do his job, too. I’m just annoyed right now.

  I was so excited to share my news with Max. He knows how long I’ve been hoping to figure out a way to break into the makeup business. But he fell asleep while I was in the middle of trying to explain what happened with Raven—only after trying to get some action, even though his drunken performance level would have been low.

  Of course, he claims that he doesn’t drink after shows like his brother. I know for a fact that both Brandon and Jon do not go home drunk to their wives, so who is Rob getting blasted with?

  Rob leans back on the couch and puts his interlocked fingers behind his fully shaved head. “Yeah, I get it. You want to start a business whoring up women.”

  He laughs and my mother gives him a dirty look. She’s probably searching for the new urban slang for dickhead.

  I shake my head and reply, “Forget it. You Buczkowski brothers are all the same.” I purse my lips and continue. “Speaking of whores, how’s Diamond?”

  “Okay, that’s enough. Jeez, you’d think I have a bunch of teenagers in this house. One of the benefits of being a teen mother is supposed to be more mature kids at an earlier age. An empty nest. I swear I might as well have a baby Mick’s age.”

  My mother is patient, but she does lose it. All the more reason we need to move out of her house.

  “Sharon, I have no problem with everyone insulting Diamond. I know what I’ve got. All the women in our circle are just jealous.”

  My mother jumps up and leaves the room in a huff.

  “Hey Sharon, what’s the new urban slang term for ball buster?” Rob is rolling in laughter as the other idiot comes back inside and opens his mouth.

  “Well, there’s ball breaker, man eater.”

  Max must really want to sleep on the couch tonight. Or better yet, in his work van.

  Rob keeps laughing and my mother returns to intervene.

  “My daughter was named after a Shakespearean character.”

  My mother may not be traditionally educated, but she spent much of her youth, and mine, teaching herself about the finer things in life.

  “Yeah, and what play was Bianca in?”

  I see where Max is going, and I’d like to punch him. Or smother him with his pillow. The big oaf has to sleep some time.

  “The Taming of the Shr…oh, shut up. I’m taking my grandson to the park.”

  She grabs Mick’s hand as she searches for Phoebe’s leash. “Come on, Sweetie, let’s go take the doggie for a walk and get away from all of these grumpy people.”

  For grumpy people, they are enjoying themselves tremendously. Rob says, “That’s fularious, Sharon.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Mom, really? Think about it.”

  She looks at the brothers in disgust, and at me with pity, as she heads out with the little ones.

  “Sharon, don’t go. We’re sorry.” Rob isn’t sorry.

  I wait until my son is out of view and earshot and say, “You are both assholes. If I’m a shrew it’s because he made me into one.” I point at Max, and Rob tries unsuccessfully to suppress his smile.

  “Oh, Birdie, I’m sorry. We’re just messin’ with ya.” Here we go with the half-hearted apologies. “I want you to be successful, but do you really want to spend your days putting makeup on a bunch of snooty brides? You’re not even interested in weddings.”

  That’s for sure. And gee, I wonder why?

  “It’s not only weddings. Many women come into these high-end salons looking for makeup tips, or just to get ready for a night out. Don’t you think I would love to stop being a waitress in my mother’s business? I’m twenty-five years old. And frankly, since you refuse to find us a place of our own, I will take advantage of our low rent situation and take the chance to do what I want.”

  “What’s wrong with being a waitress? Diamond’s ex pays her plenty of child support and alimony, but she’s got a waitress job now, too. It’s good to get out of the house and use your talents.”

  “And what exactly are Diamond’s talents?”

  “She’s working the lunch shift at Hooter’s.”

  If I was drinking, I would have sprayed the room. “I guess that is a way for her to use her best assets.”

  Max high fives Rob, and the air is thick with ignorant testosterone.

  “Okay, I will leave you two to important business. I’m sure you have some zombies that need killing, and I wouldn’t want to keep you from getting your trophies.”

  I jump up to leave the room, happy with my speech about the stupidity of video game obsession in grown men. Unfortunately, my doofus boyfriend follows me. He never knows when to quit.

  “Hey.” He grabs me from behind as I search my closet for something to change into. “Where are you going?”

  I turn around to face him—well my face is in his chest, but I look up and reply, “I am meeting Zoe and Katie at O’Malley’s. I just texted them.”

  I can always count on my single friends to have my back. My ‘married with children’ girls are a little less spontaneous, but I’m hoping for return texts from Cassie and Claire. I’m sure there’s a high probability their men or kids are driving them crazy, too.

  “Alright, but don’t be mad. Please. We’re just teasing you.”

  How can a man this big and imposing manage to look cute when he wants something?

  I attempt to think back to a time when we were carefree and had no responsibilities. But then we broke up and got back together about five times before I got pregnant, and then things got more serious.

  And a lot less fun.

  I need to make a list of Max’s redeeming qualities. Number one is that he’s a pretty good dad to Mick. And for a girl like me, that’s valuable. Maybe if I become more financially independent I won’t set myself up for so much disappointment with my man.

  Or not.

  I sigh and reply, “I’ve been teased enough, and you damn well know that. When I was little, I was poor and had a teenaged mom who looked like my big sister, and a runaway father.”

  I look down and count to ten. I don’t cry. It makes me feel weak.

  “You need to quit it with your brother. And be more respectful of my mother. And I don’t believe you care about—”

  “I love you, little Birdie. I’ll try to do better. I really am sorry.” He grabs me in a big hug, and even though I’m no wimpy chick, it’s not easy to break a Max Buczkowski embrace.

  “And you need to apologize to my mother.”

  “I will. I’ll buy her flowers.”

  Yeah, that will make it all better. But what can I expect knowing the father who raised him?

  I manage a half-hearted “I love you, too,” as he adds, “Now when are you seeing this money guy? I still think I should come with you.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Bianca

  “I should have taken a cab so I can get drunk. See how he likes it when someone comes home slurring their speech in the middle of the night.”

  “You never
get drunk.” Zoe flips her long, black hair out of her face as she sips her beer. Black is her favorite color for…well, everything.

  Zoe is the co-singer in Chain. Brandon wanted to bring her on board so that he wouldn’t be the sole front person. He had started writing some songs that would sound better with a female lead, and he also wanted someone who could harmonize. None of the other guys are great singers, although Max thinks he can belt out quite a performance in the shower.

  Zoe is a few years younger than me, waif thin, and works at the tattoo shop where I used to work.

  “She hasn’t been drinking much since Mick was born, but you didn’t know her back in high school.” Katie clinks Zoe’s bottle and they smile in unison.

  Katie, on the other hand, is all vibrant and shiny, head to toe in bright colors and sparkly accessories. The average sized blonde has been my friend since grade school. Her family was very accepting of my mother’s ‘teen mom’ status, and they helped her out with babysitting in our younger years. Mom even credits the MacFarlanes with helping her to start her business.

  Katie went to college for theater, but she works as a waitress to supplement her meager income doing stage management and design for a small local theater company. Like Zoe and I, she has bigger dreams.

  Both girls are single, and while I love them to death, they don’t always understand my relationship and mother woes. But then my married friends aren’t exactly in my situation either.

  “So why is Max being such a douche, Bianca?”

  Before I can answer Katie, I hear, “It’s an occupational hazard for his gender.”

  Cassie swoops in with hugs for all, and plops her ginormous girth down onto the wooden chair. It looks sturdy enough, but she’s about to pop any day now.

  “You don’t mean that. Jon’s a great guy.” I smirk at my friend and she smiles.

  “Yeah, he is. I like to be a good girlfriend and support man-bashing when it’s warranted. Remember, I’ve spent a lot of time with the band, and therefore with your sweet boyfriend, and his even sweeter brother.”