“Is that what you wanted, honey?” Doreen asked, firing up another cigarette.
“Yeah, it’s perfect.”
“Now I don’t know if Sheila and Tracee told you or not, but I am a licensed Mary Kay consultant, so if you wanted some more makeup to complete your new look —”
“Sure. Why not?” Lily looked at Doreen’s horrifying Kabuki mask of cosmetics. “But let’s keep it light and natural, okay?”
“Sure, hon.”
Lily’s “light and natural” makeover took thirty-five minutes. Sheila and Tracee returned from their lunch break and watched Lily’s transformation, oohing and ahhing as if they were watching the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel being painted.
When Lily saw herself in the mirror, her newly painted mouth formed an “O” of surprise, making her look not unlike one of those blond, blow-up sex-toy dolls. She would almost have preferred to be wearing Doreen’s Kabuki mask — at least it had a spooky, avant- garde quality. As it was, her cheeks were dusted with peachy blush, her lips painted with equally peachy lipstick, her lashes brushed with mascara to give her a wide-eyed, Mary Pickford appearance. She looked—she shuddered at the word —
wholesome.
“Doreen, you are a miracle worker!” Sheila squealed. “Come on, Lily, let’s go buy you some new dresses!”
A better name for the La-Di-Da Dress Shop might be Designed-to-Be-Dowdy, Lily thought, as she scanned through the racks. All the dresses were in the prim shirtwaist style preferred by Sunday school teachers and small-town librarians. Finally, deciding all the garments were equally vile, Lily closed her eyes and pulled two dresses off the “size eight” rack at random.
The oversolicitous saleslady went into paroxysms of joy. “Oh,” she crowed, “those are positively the real you!”
“Give it a rest, lady,” Lily muttered, marching toward the dressing rooms. “You wouldn’t know the real me if I bit you on the ass!”
“Lil-ee!” Tracee chided her. “You’re aw-full!”
But she had already shut the dressing room door behind her.
In her light blue shirtwaist dress, black Naturalizer flats, and stockings, Lily was totally unrecognizable, even to herself. She was reminded of the scene in the movie Tootsie in which Dustin Hoffman first appears in full, dowdy drag.
When Lily went to relieve Jeanie of her babysitting duties, Mimi screamed at the sight of her. The little girl eyed Lily suspiciously, then broke down in tears. “Where’s Mama? Where’s Mama?” she wailed hysterically.
“Mimi-saurus, it’s me. I’m your mama.”
“No! Not Mama!” Mimi screamed.
“Honey, of course it’s your mama,” Jeanie said. “She just went to the beauty shop. Don’t she look pretty?”
“Not Mama!” Mimi shrieked louder.
