* * *
New Eva turned out to be a modern, slightly edgy sexpot.
My once long, straight blond hair was now shoulder length and cut in long layers, with platinum highlights sprinkled throughout and framing my face.
I'd had my makeup done, too, to see what sort of look I should pair with my new hairdo, and I learned that smoky gray for my eyes was the way to go, along with soft pink lip gloss.
In the end, I hadn't gone with red for my nails and chose chocolate instead.
I really liked it.
For now, anyway.
I was willing to admit I might be going through a phase.
"Okay, I take it back," Cary said, whistling.
"Clearly you wear breakups well."
"See?" my mother crowed, grinning.
"I told you! Now you look like an urban sophisticate."
"Is that what you call it?" I studied my reflection, amazed at the transformation.
I appeared a bit older.
Definitely more polished.
Certainly sexier.
It boosted my spirits to see someone else looking back at me besides the hollow-eyed young woman I'd been seeing for nearly two weeks now.
Somehow, my thinner face and sad eyes paired well with the bolder style.
My mom insisted we go out for dinner since we all looked so good.
She called Stanton and told him to get ready for a night out, and I could tell from her end of the conversation that she was delighting him with her girlish excitement.
She left it to him to pick the place and make the arrangements, then continued with my makeover by picking a little black dress out of my closet.
As I slipped it on, she held up one of my ivory cocktail dresses.
"Go for it," I told her, finding it amusing and pretty amazing that my mother could pull off wearing the clothes of someone nearly twenty years younger.
When we were set, she went to Cary's room and helped him get ready.
I watched from the doorway as my mother fussed over him, talking the whole time in that way she had that didn't require reciprocal conversation.
Cary stood there with a sweet smile on his face, his eyes following her around the room with something like joy.
Her hands brushed over his broad shoulders, smoothing the pressed linen of his dress shirt, and then she expertly knotted his tie and stepped back to take in her handiwork.
The sleeve on his casted arm was unbuttoned and rolled up, and his face still had yellow and purple bruising, but nothing could detract from the overall effect of Cary Taylor dressed for a casually elegant night out.
My mother's smile lit up the room.
"Stunning, Cary.