Page 59 of An Irresistible Force (Vancouver Vice)

April muttered something unladylike and resumed her excavation. The giveaway pile was far larger than the keep pile. When I stepped back into the room, I spied my work clothes on the big pile.

“What are you doing with all my suits? They’re practically brand new.” It wasn’t that I was going to miss them, but more about the waste. My mother would have a conniption if she knew I was throwing out clothes that were less than a year old.

April had emptied most of my closet and was bundling all my business suits into a garbage bag. “Don’t worry, I’m not throwing them out. I’ll find some kind of transgender Dress for Success charity who will be thrilled to have them.”

I giggled. Maybe I had wasted money, but she was right. I looked a lot better now. I did another twirl in front of the big mirror. The back of me looked great as well. I straightened my shoulders and lifted my chin. April was right: looking in the mirror was now confirming how good I felt inside too.

26

Pumpkin Time

Amanda

I feltdecadent taking a whole afternoon to get ready for the gala, but April had been insistent. “Professional grooming is the final step that so many women ignore. You can never be truly well-dressed without proper hair and makeup.” Again, this sounded exactly like something my mother would say, but much more acceptable from my stylist.

April had made the appointment for me at a salon she recommended where they would do my hair and makeup. Femora, my new stylist, had trimmed and highlighted my hair earlier in the week, but today I was instructed to come in with unwashed hair. Apparently that made it easier to put up. The mysteries of grooming were beyond me. The makeup woman was very chatty and nice. I drew the line at false eyelashes and told her I wanted a natural look.

“But for evening, you have to be more dramatic,” Femora explained. “I think I’ll do a smoky eye.”

Whatever a smoky eye might be. It sounded bad, like pinkeye. But it looked great.

“Gosh, I should get you to give me tips for my everyday makeup,” I told her.

“With pleasure.” She pulled out a black and white drawing of a face, and then applied actual cosmetics with her finger, showing me where I needed to shade and contour the various parts of my face.

“And look, I can put everything you need into one easy palette!” She snapped tiny coloured pans into a black lacquered compact. “Your eye shadows, your blush, finishing powder, and even lip tint. Foundation and concealer are separate though.”

I sighed. “It’s so easy when you do it, but when I’m home alone...”

“Nonsense. If you can manage a hockey team, you can do this. At first, it will take a little longer, but with practice you can get your makeup routine down to five minutes.” We had been chatting about work, and I had told her what I did and offered free tickets to her and her boyfriend. Winning fans over one at a time.

We both looked at my reflection in the mirror. With my hair up and my makeup glowing, I felt extremely pleased with my reflection.

“You look gorgeous, Amanda. It’s a special night, right?”

I nodded. I’d only been waiting for this date for years.

Once home,I got dressed. I looked at myself in the full-length mirror and sighed happily.

It wasn’t that I disliked the way I looked normally, only that I felt lazy. Like I could have looked better, but I wasn’t putting in the effort. I admired well-dressed people, but I had needed an extra push to join their ranks. I was never going to be a fashion model, but with April’s help, I could develop my own uniform in a flattering personal style. Then my outside could look as good as I felt inside.

My mother tapped on the open door of my room. “May I take a peep?”

“Sure, come on in.”

She walked in, stood behind me with her hand on my shoulder, and looked into the mirror. “Wow! You look absolutely stunning tonight, dear.”

“A couple of stunners,” I replied. My mother looked beautiful in a red gown and a jewelled necklace. When I was young, I loved seeing my parents get dressed up. My father would complain about his “penguin suit,” but my mother always looked so glamourous. “That red suits you.”

She smiled. “Thank you. Here’s my tip for you: if you’re going to a big event where people will be looking for you, wear a bright colour.”

“Poor Mummy. You won’t get to relax tonight?”

“Not until it’s over. But I have high hopes that we will set a new fundraising record tonight.”

“The Heart and Stroke Foundation really lucked out when you became their gala chairperson.” Our eyes met. We both knew why she had chosen this particular charity—Daddy had died after a severe stroke.

“What time is your date coming?”

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