The Girl in the Mirror
“Couldn’t you tell?”
~~~~~
The two sisters had been apart while Dez tried to find herself again. Be independent again. But she was between the proverbial rock and hard place. She needed her job and she needed her sister. Exposing herself to Em was taking her back to high school. She had tried to paint herself up and dress like her sister……. once. The girl in the mirror just wasn’t her. And now the girls at the spa ~ girls two generations younger ~ had painted her up into some kind of doll and pushed her to upgrade her too comfortable wardrobe. The woman in the mirror just wasn’t her. And the way she pushed away from her sister just wasn’t her either. It never occurred to her that her sister may have some better ideas about how she could be coiffed and made up. At the same time, the sudden break had done its job. Given her time to shake off the soft grip of the Estate. She hadn’t expected such a dramatic change. In the few kilometres to the estate, she had rehearsed an apology. Short and to the point. She hoped that Cook had been able to keep her sister there.
~~~~~
Cook quickly put her cell phone in her apron. She hoped that her boss did not suspect that she was faking that phone call. “Miss Em? Can you stay a minute for tea?” Cook thoughts raced. What could she say next? “I’m….I’m worried.” What was she worried about? “You’ve mentioned that you’ve not seen your sister. I’ve thought about it and we’ve not seen her out here for too long. And then Samuel thinking……..there’s someone here!” A car had ground to a sudden stop at the back of the house. Cook took a big drink of her tea. “Maybe it’s just Samuel now.”
Without stopping to hang up her coat, Dez burst into the kitchen. “Cook, you can stop covering for me now. Em, I’m sorry. Sorry for the way I just left. Sorry for not telling you where I was. Sorry for……”
Emelina was almost in tears. “Dez, stop. You’re home now and that’s all that matters.” Cook had slipped away from the table to let the sisters talk. She smiled a ‘welcome home’ to Dez as she stepped away. Quietly, Em said “Let’s go upstairs and talk.”
~~~~~
“Couldn’t you tell?” The sisters had been talking for an hour, Dez doing most of the talking. All the reasons behind her short absence. How she felt like she was sliding into her sisters world. How vulnerable and out of place she felt. Emelina interrupted her. “My world? It was all an act, Dez. It has always been an act. I don’t know why, and I’ve never wanted to find out. I just know that I needed the image, the perfect glossy magazine image, just to feel safe. It’s always been like an armour. Over the years it just became normal and comfortable. Now, even in the casual clothes I wear, I want them to be just so. You really couldn’t tell?”
“Years ago, I just thought you were just prissy. Then stuck up and holier than thou.” Dez shook her head. “And I was never good enough in your eyes because I liked blue jeans and sweat pants. Never cared about hairstyles.” Emelina smiled slowly, looking ready to burst out laughing. “Looks like you still don’t care about hairstyles.” Dez started to look offended, for about a second, and then she burst out laughing. “Oh, Em, I am so ashamed….no, I’m not. I just feel stupid. I don’t know how to manage this mess. And these nails! They’re horrible. If this is supposed to be a suit of armour then it’s just not working for me. Can you help me out?
~~~~~
Cook had gone home. Before she left she called up to the sisters that supper was ready for them and that they could just leave the dishes in the sink. She’d take care of them in the morning. After they had eaten, and cleaned up the kitchen they got to work. Dez told her sister all about her job, the things she liked and the things she didn’t like. In the meantime, Em was stripping the polish and fake nails from Dez’s hands. Back upstairs, Dez sat at Em's vanity. Em stood behind her sister, combing her hair. They looked at each other in the mirror. “I can’t do anything about your hair tonight. But I know a hairdresser that can fix up this mess. I don’t like it either. It just isn’t you.”
“I have laughed, in bitterness and agony of heart,
at the contrast between what I seem and what I am!”
~ Nathanial Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter
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