“I’ll go. You’re right, we need some fun.”
“Really? You will?” Savannah squealed.
I couldn’t help but smile as I held the phone at arm’s length. “Yes, but I’d like to have some small amount of hearing left so that I can enjoy the music,” I teased.
“Oh, sorry. I just figured you’d say no.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes you look so sad when I see you. I thought maybe I remind you of Bo,” she confessed soberly.
I hated that she saw me that way. I hated that she thought that. I hated that my misery without Bo was so perceptible.
“No, you don’t. And, who knows? Maybe you’ll see a whole different Ridley tonight.”
“R-eally? ‘Cause you know I can’t see a thing, right?”
Even though it was simply Savannah’s way, to make fun of her infirmity, I still felt the heat rush to my cheeks. It made me feel wretched when she did.
“Then maybe I’ll have to do something fun that you can hear. How ‘bout that?”
“Ooo, like what? Burp the alphabet? Fart The Star Spangled Banner?”
That actually coaxed a laugh out of me. “You’re insane, you know that?”
“Oh, come on. You wouldn’t have me any other way.”
“You’re right, I wouldn’t.”
“Ok, so pick me up at eight? Or do you want me to drive?”
“No! No, I’ll take care of the driving. You just worry about getting dressed.
Don’t be wearin’ a Bride of Frankenstein head with a Smurf body.”
“Listen to Ridley, finally catching on.”
“Ha ha.”
“Seriously,” Savannah said, her voice turning solemn. “I don’t want anyone to see me differently, to treat me differently. I can make fun of myself because it’s healthier than letting it eat away at me. So I do.”
“I know, Savannah. It just feels…wrong.”
“Well, I guess you’re just going to have to get over that.”
With an exaggerated sigh, I agreed. “Yep, I guess I will.”
“Alrighty then, eight o’clock?”
“Eight o’clock.”
“Ciao.”
And with that, she hung up in her abrupt, very Savannah-like manner. I had to admit, though, that she’d brightened my day. How pathetic is that, when your mood is so dark that someone who’s just lost her sight and her boyfriend ends up being the cheerful one?
With a renewed zeal for getting out of bed, I pushed back the covers and walked to my closet. I had no idea what to wear to a Halloween costume party. It was the first one the school had ever had. I didn’t think it really mattered, though. It wasn’t the party I was looking forward to as much as spending time with Savannah.
It seemed she was just what I needed—a friend and a distraction.
I pulled out a couple of possibilities and laid them on the bed and then made my way to the kitchen. It was Saturday and Dad was home. That meant only one thing: time to brush off my daytime Emmy and get to work pretending.
Mom was standing in front of the coffee maker. Her back was to me and both hands were flat on the counter, her shoulders hunched as if she was in pain.
“Mom?” I said, rushing to her side. “What’s wrong?”
I leaned around to look into her face. I was relieved to see that there were no tears. No tears meant that whatever was ailing her was fixable.
Haunted, bloodshot eyes met mine. “Your father went to get breakfast. I’m just having some coffee. Why don’t you pour yourself some juice?”
With that, she straightened, her eyes falling to the mug that sat on the counter in front of her. She reached for it with a hand that shook so badly she nearly spilled the hot brew just trying to pick it up.
“Here,” I said, wrapping my fingers around the handle. “Why don’t you come over here and sit down. I’ll get the drinks ready and set the table.”
I carried Mom’s coffee mug for her. When she sat down, she put her elbows on the table and I handed her the cup. Her shaking wasn’t nearly as perceptible with the support of the table under her arms.
She closed her eyes as she took a sip of the steaming liquid. When she opened them, they locked on mine. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. It wasn’t much as far as expressions go, but there was a lot more gratitude in her eyes. Once again, I had helped her avert disaster. She knew it and I knew it.
She was my mother, though, and I loved her. She knew her secret was safe with me.
After all, a family of pretenders had to stick together.
We made it through breakfast. And lunch. And dinner. I knew better than to make too many other plans for the weekend days when Dad was home. He was adamant about spending “quality family time” together. It was a farce, but he was a stickler about it.
With the last of the dinner dishes tucked safely away inside the dishwasher, I closed it and hit the start button. I was on my way back to my room to shower when I remembered something.
I returned to the living room.
“Mom, do you still have that mask that you wore to the masquerade party you guys went to year before last? The silver one?”
I could see Mom struggling to remember. I’m sure it was like trying to flip through the pages of a soggy newspaper.
“Gosh, Ridley, that’s been a while. Why don’t you check the box in the top of my closet. If I kept it, it would probably be in there.”
“Ok. Thanks.”
I headed straight for her room and got the box down. Sure enough, the mask was in there. In tact, too. Luckily, it only covered the top portion of the face, so there was virtually no chance it might have puke on it. Sadly, that was a constant consideration when borrowing anything of Mom’s that didn’t predate Izzy’s death.
After my shower and an intense buffing session, I smoothed on some shimmering lotion and let it dry before slipping into a dress that I’d worn in a beauty pageant a couple years prior. Though it was snug, it still fit, and the tight factor only enhanced the look I was going for.
The dress had a white bodice that hugged me in a corset style. The lower half was fitted and covered in silver sequins. The very bottom of the dress flared out and had layers and layers of white frothy material spilling from beneath the sequins, making it look like a tail. It was a curve-hugging mermaid dress if I’d ever seen one.