I give him a sweet smile. “Thanks, Jamal. I appreciate it.”
“No worries, Ana and it’s on me.”
“No, I couldn’t,” I gasp.
He looks affronted, “Shh, now hush yourself girl, I insist. Now go to Marissa. She’s the best in Virginia.”
I smile at him relenting and turn to see a beaming Marissa staring at me.
“Well, aren’t you a pretty girl. Looks like you will make my job very easy for me today.”
Marissa was great, very bubbly blonde haired lady with brown eyes. Her hair and makeup were as pristine as you would imagine and she had a beauty spot on her right cheek. Wasn’t sure if it were real, but didn’t want to get too close to confirm my suspicions.
I was impressed with the way Marissa had done my makeup. I was a transformed woman. Thank goodness she didn’t plaster too much on. I hate it when women wear too much face paint. I never think it looks right. My face looked fresh with a touch of red on the cheeks. My eyes were very lightly coloured brown and my lips had a lovely rosy tinted shine. I must admit, she was good.
“Marissa, I’m so grateful, thank you. It looks great.”
She beams at me, “Just remember me when this guy you’re trying to impress asks you to marry him and you’re trying to find someone to do your makeup for your special day.”
I turn from the mirror about to contradict her when Jamal pipes up, “Marissa, she looks wonderful. Well done girl.” He turns to me, “Now, Ana, come with me.”
I look around to Marissa and thank her, before I get plopped down in my seat to have my hair washed. A young girl called Betsy washed my hair; she was only seventeen and did this every Saturday to give her some pocket money. She didn’t like to rely on her parents to provide for her and I admired her independence. After she was done I tipped her $5 and she was ecstatic. I walked over to Jamal’s station and sat down.
“Curls, lots of luscious curls. How does that sound?” he asked.
I nod my agreement. “Sounds fantastic, Jamal. Bring it on, I trust you.”
He went to work on my hair and half an hour later I was transformed from fairly straight hair into lots of luscious curls, just like he said.
“Wow, Jamal, thank you. I would never to be able to do this myself.”
He blushes and I get up to give him a hug.
“Now, you go get him, tiger,” he winks.
I say my thanks and pay at the till. I insisted on paying for the Makeup but Jamal wouldn’t have any of it, so instead, I tipped him generously. I say my goodbyes and head out the door.
Stage two complete, now stage three, the dress.
I look around a few stores and eventually head into Bloomingdales where I try on a few things. In the end I settle for a lovely figure hugging Geranium coloured dress and to my surprise, I also find a nice black and white striped bikini to replace my old one. I check the time and it’s now 2.30pm, so better be getting back. With stage three complete I now move on to stage four, to get home with plenty of time.
Chapter 11
I came back from the mall feeling refreshed. I feel a little nervous about what to expect but I know I must do this. It is now or never.
I get to the door, bags in tow, hoping and praying that Jake won’t be in the living room when I walk in. I put the key in tentatively and hold my breath. I push the door gently and peek into a vast space. He’s not here. My shoulders sag as I breathe a sigh of relief. He must be outside getting the barbeque ready. I quietly shut the door behind me and rush upstairs. It is now 3:20pm, so guests will be arriving soon. I get into my room and shut the door.
Mission five is now complete. Now for the hardest part, mission six.
The butterflies are getting stronger now. I’m starting to wonder if I can even do this. Who am I kidding? He doesn’t want me and the more he’s fighting me off the more I just seem to be behaving like a spoilt child that’s stamping her foot because she’s not getting her own way. Is this really hopeless? I’ve spent all this time and energy today and people will be expecting me to be there, so I can’t back down now.
It’s now 4:04pm and I hear the doorbell go. I hold my breath again as I wait to hear if Jake answers. To my relief I hear voices. There is a greeting from Jake and the sound of Mike’s voice from work comes echoing up the stairs. I like Mike, he is a good guy. He is fifty-eight years old and like the daddy to the station. He used to Police, but now prefers a desk job as he says he’s not the young man he used to be.
“So where’s the lovely Ana today, Jake?” I hear Mike ask.
I suck in a breath, waiting for his answer.
“I’m not sure. She may be in her room getting ready.”