the rest of my face, my brows are super neat, and my eyes look a little bigger and brighter. She even managed to play up my different-colored eyeballs. Even I think they look pretty cool right now. Combined with the hair she wrangled into this crown-looking thing? I feel beautiful.
For maybe the first time ever?
And now I’m…befuddled. Especially when it hits me again that I’m holding Mama’s jacket. Like how did she go from popping on me about “priorities” to doing my makeup and completing my outfit?
I slip the jacket on—
And then I hear, “She’s in here,” and Jax rounds the corner with Zan in tow.
“WAIT!” I slam the bathroom door.
“Well, that was rude,” Jax yells.
UGHHHH! “I’ll be out in just a minute! Can you, umm…wait in the living room?”
“Rico, you’ve been in there for two hours.”
I’m gonna kill him.
“You can’t put a time limit on beauty, my man,” from Zan. “Come on. I’ll whup you in a couple rounds of 2K on the Xbox while we wait.”
Right. Because all those electronics Zan brought over here when Jax was sick last week? The kid got to keep them.
I shake my head and try to refocus.
I peek out into the bedroom. They’re gone.
“C’mon, Rico, you can do this. Obviously can’t cancel now, so woman the frick up!”
(This is gonna be a disaster, I just know it.)
Into the closet. Boots.
One last look in the mirror…
Okay, can’t lie, I look like a total badass.
When I step out of the bedroom, the boys’ heads turn in tandem. Zan’s caterpillar brows (he does, in fact, get them threaded, according to Jess) sideways-crawl up to his hairline, but Jax is the one who speaks: “Well, hot damn, sister.”
“Jax!”
He throws his hands up. “It’s the only appropriate response!”
Zan still hasn’t said a word.
He and I lock eyes, and it hits me just how much I want him to like how I look. Not sure I like the feeling.
Come to think of it, maybe that’s what’s been bothering me about this whole thing. This sense that I’m not only allowing myself to get distracted from what matters most (a-hunnit-and-six MIL) but also like…losing control of myself AND setting myself up for the kind of disappointment that can utterly decimate a person. That I’m deliberately handing another human being the power to destroy me if they’re (he’s) so inclined.
That I’m changing—caring more, putting forth more effort…
Wanting.
In truth, I’ve never really liked anyone before. For one, I’ve never believed anyone in this rich-ass town could be remotely interested in me; and for two, the only example I’ve ever had of a “person in love” is Mama. We see where all that emotion ’n’ devotion got her (get it? Emotion ‘N’ Devotion = END).
So I’ve kept myself locked down.
But now?
Please say something, Macklin….
He does: “You, umm…” He clears his throat and looks away. “You ready to go?”
And there it is.
My chin drops…maybe if I look closely enough at the floor, I’ll be able to see that heart of mine dissolving into our matted excuse for carpet.
“Oh. Guess I am.” Could I sound any more pathetic? “Jax has to come with us, by the way. Hope that’s okay.”
And if it isn’t, door’s right there, bucko. Feel free to let yourself out.
Jax huffs and rolls his eyes. “I told him already.” He turns off the game and television, then comes over and stands in front of me. “Can we go now, please, Rico?”
That’s when it hits me: I’ll have to pay for his movie ticket. I set aside a little money from this week’s paycheck so I could pay for myself, but it’s not enough for Jax too.
See? Disaster.
Zan comes over and holds his keys out to Jax. “How ’bout you go on out to the Jeep and get it warmed up for us, little dude? You can even sit in the driver’s seat.”
“Cooooool!” Jax takes the keys and rushes out the door.
Which leaves me alone with Zan-the-(clearly unimpressed)-Man.
I reach to tuck my hair behind my ear, remember Mama doing it, and instantly feel like the world’s biggest jackass. Stupid boots and tights and dress and jacket and makeup and hair.
“You might wanna go on out…not sure letting Jax start your truck is a good idea.”
“Ah, he won’t be able to start it at all.” And then he’s stepping closer. “Won’t crank unless the clutch pedal is down.”
Oh.
“Just didn’t want the kid to hear me say how incredible you look.”
Well then. I clear my throat. “Thanks.”
While I stand there