Chasing Rainbows A Novel - By Long, Kathleen Page 0,56

had seen me, I’d sported my typical wild tangle of curls. They’d never recognize me in my prepubescent-boy pixie cut.

I couldn’t help but notice the twinkle in Ashley’s eyes. I hadn’t seen her this happy since I’d witnessed her inhaling a can of peas. I couldn’t help but feel a bit suspicious.

“What?” I asked.

Her smile widened and I was struck once again by how quickly she was growing up.

She held out her hand, handing me a pair of deep red librarian glasses.

“Oh.” I reached for the frames, slipped them on and squatted down to study my reflection in the small mirror anchored to the counter.

If I didn’t know me, I’d think I looked...cool.

“What do you think?” I straightened the frames and waited for Ashley’s answer.

“I think they’ll never know what hit them.” She grasped my elbow and squinted, the corners of her eyes turning serious. “Thanks for doing this, Aunt Bernie.”

My heart squeezed a bit. “Anything for you, Ash. Anything.”

And I meant it.

At that moment, studying the light and hope and gratitude in Ashley’s eyes, I realized I loved this kid as if she were my own.

I threw my arm around her shoulder and pulled her tight against my side. “I love you, sweetie.”

“Aunt Bernie.” She drew my name out into about fifteen syllables. “Someone might see us.”

I bit my lip and laughed. “Duly noted.” I waved the glasses in front of her nose. “Let’s pay for these and go get you some proper eyebrows.”

o0o

Things at the Rediscover You counter went fairly well, if I do say so myself. I was in rare form. That’s to say, I bit my lip whenever one of the makeup twins said something that made my teeth hurt, which was often.

Ashley, on the other hand, handled Brittany and Tiffany like a pro. Based on some of the high school girls I’d seen at the rink, I’d imagine she had a lot of experience dealing with the perfect girls of her generation, and I used the term loosely.

Brittany and Tiffany, as we’d established the day of the first Rediscover You encounter, viewed themselves as beyond perfect. Theirs was a perfection to outshine all others, making them eligible for the ultimate in perfection recognition.

They’d been chosen to teach. In their case, the art of makeup.

I gave myself a mental slap. I needed to let go of the past and move beyond my first impression of these girls.

They were being lovely with Ashley and based on Ashley’s smile--and perfectly natural-looking brows--she had become one very satisfied customer.

By the time I paid for Ashley’s supplies, I’d convinced myself I might have been wrong about the dynamic duo. As Ashley turned for the smoothie stand and I tucked my wallet back into my purse, I almost felt friendly toward Brittany and Tiffany.

Until one of them spoke.

Loudly.

“Excuse me.”

I pivoted, plastering on my best smile.

Tiffany waggled a finger in my direction. “You know, you need to actually use the recovery cream in order for it to work.”

I bit down on my lip and sucked air through my teeth, trying to summon up every ounce of restraint I could.

Brittany wrinkled her nose and nodded. “And red is so not your color. Who picked out those glasses?”

Ashley grabbed my elbow at the precise moment I stepped toward the kiosk counter.

I held my ground, looking from Brittany and Tiffany’s sneers to Ashley’s pleading expression then back again.

In the end, I chose Ashley. How could I not?

“Thanks for stopping me,” I muttered as we put space between us and the kiosk from hell.

“Thank you, Aunt Bernie.” Ashley stopped for a second, gracing me with a smile that lit her every feature, including her new brows. “You’re the best.”

You’re the best. I grinned to myself.

The kid might be a bit biased and blinded by kiosk shopping, but her words were exactly what I needed to shove the Rediscover You twins out of my mind once and for all.

o0o

I dropped Ashley at her house, surprised to find no cars in the driveway. Best I could figure, David had stayed late at the rink and Diane had found a clearance rack...or two...or three.

I waited until Ashley gave me the all-clear wave from inside the front door before I headed home.

The message light on my machine greeted me, blinking its silent plea. Press me. Press me. Press me.

So I did.

David’s words spilled out of my machine, tight and emotional. At just six months pregnant, Diane had started bleeding.

He’d met her at Cooper Hospital and she’d been admitted to Maternal