Sanctuary(51)

"Doesn't take me more than two now. What's the damn point?"

Jo told herself she didn't care about the cut. she was tired of sitting there being fussed with, that was all. she wasn't nervous.

"Fine." Lexy switched off the dryer, tugged out the plug. "All you do is bitch and find fault. Go ahead and look like a hag. I don't give a shit." she stormed out, leaving Jo to tug the towel aside badtemperedly.

But when she caught her reflection in the mirror, she stopped, stepped closer. It looked ... nice, she decided, and lifted a hand to brush the tips. Instead of hanging, it skimmed, she supposed, angled over the cars, graduated toward the back. It was sort of... breezyshe decided. The bangs weren't such a bad touch after all. Experimentally, she shook her head. Everything fell back into place, more or less. Nothing drooped into her eyes to irritate her.

she picked up her brush, ran it through and watched her hair rise and fall in nice, neat blunt ends. Tidy, she mused. Fuss-free, but with, well, style. she had to admit it had style and the style flattered.

The memory snuck through of sitting on the edge of her bed while her mother brushed her hair.

You've got beautiful hair, Jo Ellen. So thick and soft. It'sgoing to be your crowningglory It's the same color as yours, Mama.

I know. And Annabelle laugbed and bugged her close. You'll be my little twin.

"I can't be your twin, Mama," Jo whispered now. "I can't be like you.

Wasn't that why she'd never done anything more with her hair than scrape it back into an elastic band? Wasn't that why there was no tube of mascara in the bathroom? Was it stubbornness, Jo wondered, or was it fear, that kept her from spending more than five minutes a day on her appearance? From really looking at herselp.

If she was going to keep herself sane, Jo thought, she was going to have to learn how to face what she saw in the mirror every day. And facing it, she realized, she would have to learn to accept it.

Taking a bracing brcatli, she left her room and walked down to Lexy's.

she found Lexy in the bathroom, choosing a lipstick from among the clutter of cosmetics on the counter.

"I'm sorry." When Lexy said nothing, Jo took the last step forward. "Lexy, I am sorry. You were absolutely right. I was being bitchy, I was finding fault."

Lexy stared down at the little gold tube, watched the slick red stick slide up and down. "Why

"I'm scared."

"Of what?"

"Everything." It was a relief to admit it, finally. "Everything scares me these days. Even a new haircut." she managed to work up a smile. "Even a terrific new haircut."

Lexy relented enough to smile back when their eyes met in the mirror. "It is pretty terrific. It would look better if you had some color, fixed up your eyes."

Jo sighed, looked down at the personal department store of cosmetics. "Why not? Can I use some of this stuff?"

"Anything there would work. We're the same coloring." Lexy turned back to the mirror, carefully painted her lips. "Jo ... are you scared of being alone?"

"No. I do along really well." Jo picked up blusher, sniffed at it. "That's about all that doesn't scare me."

"Funny. That's about the only thing that does scare me."

I The fire speared up, rose out of white sand and toward a black, diamond-studded sky. Like some Druid ritual fire, Nathan thought, as he sipped an icy beer and watched the flames. He could imagine robed figures dancing around it, offering sacrifices to some primitive and hungry god.

And where the hell had that come from? he wondered, and took another swig to wash the image away.

The night was cool, the fire hot, and the beach, so often deserted, was filled with people and sound and music. He just wasn't quite ready to be part of it. He watched the mating dances, the ebb and flow of male and female as basic as the tide.

And he thought of the photos Jo had shown him that morning, those frozen slices of lonely. Maybe it had taken that, he realized, to make him see how lonely he'd become.

"Hey, handsome." Ginny plopped down on the sand beside him. "Whatcha doing over here all by yourself)"

"Searching for the meaning of life."

she hooted cheerfully. "Well, that's easy. It's living it." she offered him a hot dog, fresh out of the fire and burned to a crisp. "Eat up."

Nathan took a b'te, tasted charcoal and sand. "Yum."

she laughed, squeezed his knee companionably. "Well, outdoor cooking's not my strong point. But I whip up a hell of a southern-style breakfast if you ever ... find yourself in my neighborhood."

As a come-on it was both obvious and easy. There was her acre of smile, slightly off center now from the tequila she'd been drinking. He couldn't help but smile back at her. "That's a very attractive offer."