Part of me really wanted to show Mom how pretty I looked in Erika’s evening gown, but I didn’t feel that she deserved to share in something so special. I hurried up to the bathroom before Mom had a chance to ask how the concert went. I took one last, fond look at my made-up face, and then washed all the falseness away. I was still me – ugly, miserable, and ignored. Then I retreated to the safety of my bedroom.
I flipped on the light switch and kicked my pumps across the room. “Witch.”
“Turn the light off,” Erika groaned, rolling in her bed.
I hastily obliged. “I thought you had a date.”
“It ended early. How was the concert?”
“She missed it.” I didn’t have to explain who ‘she’ was. Erika knew.
I carefully removed the elegant gown and hung it up on a hanger on the handle of Erika’s dresser. I didn’t bother to put my own clothes away. Nylons, underwear, shoes… they all stayed where I dropped them. I was too angry to be organized. It was too dark to have put them away anyhow. At least I knew where my nightgown was. I donned it and flung myself into bed.
When my head hit the pillow, it struck something hard. “What’s this?” I muttered, flipping on my bedside lamp.
Erika rotated her head in my direction. “Open it.”
It was a present of some sort, wrapped in shiny gold paper and sealed with a bow. I tore into it with eager fingers. It was a small, embroidered fabric bag with a zipper. I unzipped it. There was a mirror inside.
I frowned. “What is it?”
“It’s a makeup bag.”
“I don’t have any makeup,” I murmured, embarrassed.
“You will,” she replied maturely. She smiled at me and rolled over again. “Turn the light off.”
“Sorry.”
“Good night.”
“Erika?”
“Hmm?”
“Thanks for everything tonight. You’ve been just wonderful.”
“Hmm.”
“I mean it.”
She yawned. “Okay already. Go to sleep. And, Beverly? Consider making some friends. If you only have one person who can disappoint you, she probably will. But if you have a network of friends, somebody will always be there for you.” She turned her back to me, signaling that she was done for the night.
I swallowed hard to quell the rising lump in my throat. My mouth was dry, and my throat constricted so I could barely breathe. Erika’s kindness was completely unexpected. I had targeted her as a bad person, someone who cared only for herself and caused as much trouble as possible. She was not only human, I discovered that night, but she was also a very wonderful person. I had misjudged her, wrongly and severely.
It wasn't fair. My mother should be the wonderful person, and she didn’t have time for me. I tried to induce a sob – anything to purge the unpleasant emotions rising in my chest – but my body had cried enough for one day.
My last thought before falling asleep was one of desperation. If being in a play and leading a concert were not enough to attract my mother’s attention, then nothing I did would ever get it. She must really be embarrassed of me if she felt it so necessary to keep her distance, to disassociate herself from me – to deny any connection to me.
I hated myself more than ever.