Desperate Measures(39)
HI GIRLS. SORRY. CAN’T COME. LOST THE KEYS TO MY CAR. HOPE YOU HAVE FUN. XOXO AIMEE.
She got off the chair and shuffled over to the pantry. Might as well bake something. It always calmed her to make something beautiful. She kicked her shoes to the side, because she hated wearing them when she cooked, and pulled out the flour and sugar. As she moved around the kitchen absently grabbing the necessary things, she tried to figure out who this batch of cookies would go to. She rarely ate more than a taste of what she made herself, but she had so few friends, there was a definite oversupply problem. Before she could decide whether to give them to the postman or her retired neighbors, a beep from her computer broke through her daze of unhappiness and alerted her to the fact that she had a new message in her inbox.
She shuffled over to read it, almost sure it would be an offer for another penis enlargement drug. She got at least ten of them a day. Or maybe this time it would be another multi-million dollar lottery that she’d won, or an inheritance from someone in Nigeria or the People’s Republic of Congo.
Her eyes lit up when she saw that it was a message from Kiki.
WHAT’S YOUR ADDRESS? I’M COMING OVER TO GET YOU. NO EXCUSES.
Aimee smiled. It was like Kiki could read her mind and see past the stories she made up to keep from being too embarrassed. She half wanted to lie and say something about being sick, but instead, typed out her address. Worse than facing her friends and having them know what a horrible person her ex was, would be giving her ex the satisfaction of ruining her night.
She walked over and put away the flour and sugar, lining them up carefully in the pantry, and put her baking pans back in the cupboard. The rest of her life might be a complete mess, but this little part of it, the part that took place in the kitchen, was perfectly organized and ran like clockwork. She liked having that tiny bit of control, especially since the rest of her life seemed so chaotic.
Aimee walked slowly upstairs to the bathroom to try and repair the damage done by her tears. After taking one look in the mirror, she decided that starting all over was her best bet, and began washing her face. She needed the cool water to calm down her red eyes. After she’d dried herself off and was in the middle of putting on moisturizer, the doorbell rang.
She panicked, worried that Jack had come back. But then she realized he wouldn’t have the courtesy to ring the bell, so she hurried downstairs as she rubbed in her face cream, throwing open the door as soon as she reached it.
Kiki stood on the doorstep, looking as gorgeous as ever, towering over Aimee in heels that made her six feet tall. Slung over her shoulder was a super cool black bag that Aimee remembered seeing in the window of a store in the mall she was afraid to go into because the things in it were so expensive.
“Nice place,” said Kiki, stepping forward to come in. Her heels thunked soundly on the wood floor.
Aimee moved back, giving her room to enter, and then shut the door. She watched as Kiki’s eyes roamed around the foyer, taking in the re-packed boxes that Jack had ripped open the day before and the contents of Aimee’s purse thrown out on the floor. Kiki’s gaze stopped at Aimee’s face.
“Something tells me there’s more than just lost keys going on here.”
Aimee smiled at her tremulously and then lost it. She started crying and turned to grab some tissues off the nearby table. She was embarrassed that Kiki was seeing her like this. She hated crying in front of people.
“Tell me what happened, Aimee. Who do I need to go beat up? Is it the ex?”
Aimee smiled, imagining her Amazonian friend going after her short, uptight husband. That was a match she’d like to see.
“It was Jack. He came over when I was getting ready, and when he saw that I was going out, he took my keys. I don’t have a spare set.”
“Okay, I can do easy math ... Jack equals asshole. So. First order of business is fixing your face. Show me to your makeup area.”
Aimee started walking up the stairs. “I can do it. I was just about to when you got here. You can make yourself at home, it will only take me a minute. There are some bar stools in the kitchen.”
Kiki followed Aimee up and went right into the bathroom behind her. “I’m doing your makeup. Don’t worry, I’m an expert. Show me your stuff so I can see what I have to work with.”
Kiki had a very determined but gentle look on her face, so Aimee capitulated. She was too woozy and wienie-feeling to fight her off anyway. She’d only once had a person do her makeup before, in the mall, and they’d done a horrible job. At this point, though, Aimee couldn’t care less. Some of the excitement of going out had dissipated in the wake of Jack’s cruelty.