"Not if she turned me away so fast for something I didn’t even say or do."
"I know my sister. You made her happy. She was just too stupid to see she had a good thing going."
"Thanks," Tom said grudgingly. "I appreciate it."
"Then sit down and be quiet so I can paint." Rivka pointed again, and Tom found he had no choice but to do as she said.
Lila wasn’t much of a seamstress. She hadn’t inherited any of her sister’s talents for creation, not in painting or writing or cooking, and most definitely not in sewing. Still, she had withstood pricked fingers, broken needles, and snapped threads to make this costume for tomorrow night’s opening. She shook out the folds of shimmering metallic material. The question was…would it be worth it?
She’d had the good fortune to find the pattern tucked in the clearance box at the fabric store. It must have been left over from Halloween and had been marked down to the ridiculously low price of twenty-five cents. Even if it had been twenty-five dollars, however, Lila would have bought it.
Taking a cue from something Darren had said to her, Lila had decided to forgo the cute Little Bo Peep costume. She’d never been a fan of lamb. She returned the costume to the store, using the balance of her deposit to buy the wig she now pulled over her own hair. It fell in sleek dark lines to her shoulders and across her forehead. Nestled into the black strands was a headpiece of gold in the shape of a snake.
"Cleopatra ain’t the only queen of denial." Staring at her reflection, Lila laughed. "Not bad."
Shimmying out of her comfortable sweatsuit, she pulled on the dress she had labored over for the past three nights. Thankfully, the pattern had been simple enough for even her inadequate skills, though the metallic cloth had been a real pain to work with. She shook her shoulders until the gown fell into graceful folds over her body and down to her feet.
Next came the padded shoulder pieces, linked together with tiny snakes she had also been fortunate enough to find in the bargain bin. This had been the most difficult part of the costume, requiring hand-sewn braiding and decorations. She’d nearly hot-glued her fingers together, but the results looked good.
Lila practiced looking regal. In keeping with her vision of the legendary Egyptian beauty, she’d applied far more makeup than she usually did. A different woman stared back at her from the mirror. She outlined her eyes with dark slashes of kohl and filled in her lips with lipstick the color of blood. Now her eyes were startlingly bright blue against the black makeup, and her mouth glistened, the lips plump and inviting. She hardly knew herself.
She primped. "Not an everyday look. But it’ll do."
Truthfully, she was more than pleased at how the entire costume had come together. She hardly recognized herself. That was good. The Lila who needed to confront Tom Caine needed to be a little different for tomorrow night. She needed the courage the face paint and elaborate dress would provide.
Slipping out of the dress and wig, Lila stepped back into the worn cotton sweatpants and sweatshirt she’d owned for years. Once navy blue, the suit had faded through countless washings until it was a nondescript gray. It sagged in places she didn’t, but was as soft as flannel and just as comforting. The sweatsuit might not be fit for a queen, but Lila liked it anyway.
Padding into the bathroom in stocking feet, she scrubbed away the red and black marks from her face until she was once again her old self. Oddly enough, even though she no longer saw Cleopatra staring at her from above the bathroom sink, Lila still felt changed.
For the first time in what seemed forever, she really scrutinized her reflection. Her blue-ice eyes were different from her sister’s by only the slightest of shades. Her mouth was thicker than Rivka’s, and her nose, thinner. The dark, wild brows matched the dark tangle of curls falling to her shoulders. Her skin was slightly pinker from the scrubbing she had given it, but was rapidly fading back into the pale cream that never really tanned.
"Huh. I don’t look so much like Rivka after all."
She wasn’t a plainer version of her sister, as she had always thought. She was perfect version of herself. The flaws, both real and imagined, only served to make her face unique.
She shivered a little in anticipation