her an idea.
“I’ll do pants and sweaters. That works.” She went down a floor to where the more casual clothes were, and bought a soft pink cashmere sweater, a pale blue one, a red turtleneck, and two black ones that looked chic. She bought black and gray flannel slacks, and then she saw a lace blouse that looked soft and feminine, and she bought a simple black cashmere coat that looked right for New York, instead of the beaten up gray parka she’d come to town in. She stopped in the shoe department and bought two pairs of black high-heeled pumps, one in suede, a pair of Chanel flats, and a good-looking pair of black boots. She had enough clothes to get her through the next few days, and she thought of Norm when she bought the lace blouse. There was good shopping in Boston too, but she never went.
She reached the sidewalk with her cluster of shopping bags, feeling like herself again. She’d brought a pair of her mother’s pearl earrings with her, and a Chanel handbag she used to love and had found on a shelf in her closet, gathering dust. It was a familiar look when she tried it on at the hotel, and she smiled at the blouse, thinking of the evening she’d spent with Norm, and their kisses in front of the fireplace, drinking the Sauterne. She no longer owned anything to make herself attractive to a man, or to impress a daughter who lived in L.A. and had a glamorous movie star adoptive mother. But the clothes she had bought looked well on her, and showed off her tall, slim figure. The coat was very stylish she realized when she tried it on again.
Just being in the city again was a strange déjà vu for her. It made her think of Carson and how long it had been since they’d spoken and she’d heard his voice. She thought about all they’d been through, and wondered how he was. He was still in the publishing world, and married again, with two teenage stepdaughters. So his life was not so different, but hers bore no resemblance to her earlier life. She spent the winter in rubber boots or snow boots, and sneakers in the summer. Her clothes were functional and not pretty, and she hadn’t cared in four years. But now she did.
It was hard to turn the clock back to be someone she no longer was, and she looked older than she had four years before. Hattie said she hadn’t changed but Melissa knew she had. She’d been through too much not to.
The next day she went to the hairdresser where she used to get her hair cut. All the stylists were new so they didn’t recognize her. She had her long hair trimmed a few inches, so it looked neat when she pulled it back. And she indulged herself with a facial and a manicure, and emerged feeling very sophisticated and almost like a New Yorker again, but not quite. But at least she wouldn’t embarrass Michaela now when they met.
She didn’t know it, but Michaela had gone through the same thing when she packed her bags for New York. All her clothes were informal and plain, appropriate for her job as a social worker or out with the kids. She and David rarely got dressed up. They led a casual California life. She wore sandals most of the time and flip-flops on the weekends. Marla complained about it and said she was a beautiful girl and should dress like one. She bought her designer clothes, but Michaela had no place to wear them and they sat in her closet until she gave them away or sold them. It frustrated Marla, who was always impeccably and fashionably dressed. Michaela was panicked now about what to wear to look presentable to the birth mother she had never met.
* * *
—
Melissa was a nervous wreck when she got into the cab to go uptown the next day. She was wearing the pale blue sweater, black slacks and black coat, and Chanel flats, and looked well put together. Traffic was heavy, and she was afraid to be late, but she arrived at the Mark right on time.
The lobby looked like a movie set with a startling black and white floor, a bar, and a restaurant, and Melissa walked cautiously into the restaurant. Michaela had emailed her a photograph so she’d recognize her. Melissa didn’t