Page 92 of Devil in Disguise
“Oh, just great,” Dyma said. “Except that I just met my boyfriend’s parents for the first time, and they pointed out that I was wearing my dress inside out, which is because we spent most of the afternoon having sex. Also, my hair was sticking up like a rooster tail and I couldn’t find my underwear. I should just wear asign.”She sighed. “Oh, well. Gotta go. Dinner.Withoutthe boyfriend. No pressure!”
The woman laughed. “Yeah, you know? Don’t worry about it. If they’re his parents, they had sex at least once, right?”
“Right,” Dyma said. “Thanks.”
“Hey,” the woman said, “no problem. We’ve all been there.” And smiled.
So, see? Polished, gorgeous women did not have to be bitchy.
They ended up at an elegant place Harlan had recommended called Restaurant R’evolution, where everybody else ate things like beer-battered crab beignets, shrimp and grits with pork belly, grilled redfish with crabmeat and beurre blanc, cherry-glazed duck breast, smothered greens with turkey, and rack of lamb, and Dyma ate a whole lot of vegetables and thought about how fish wasn’texactlymeat. Well, itwas,but she didn’t have to be so worried about fish. She didn’t love fishes’ little faces, not like adorable pigs or even ducks, because ducks were cute as can be, the way they waddled and quacked like they were going somewhere important. Hmm. Was lack of cuteness a good enough reason to eat a sentient being?
Butalso,fish weren’t fattened in feedlots, cruelly penned, or separated from their mothers, right? On the other hand—overfishing. She pondered the ethical dilemma fairly sleepily as Joan talked to Annabelle about sports and school, and Waylon concentrated on his rack of lamb and didn’t say much, in a comfortable, friendly sort of way Dyma recognized. Because it was like Owen.
Right now, Joan was saying, “So are you thinking of going to school up there with Dyma next year? It might be nice to have a friend. College can be a little bit of an adjustment.”
“That’s true,” Dyma said, “Exhibit A being, well, me. Annabelle fits in really well with people, though, and she’ll be doing sports and is looking at scholarships, the same way I was. I mean, I’d love her to come to Washington, but she’ll fit in anywhere.”
That was because somethingelsehad just occurred to her. Had her college experience thus far been so disastrous that Annabelle would be scared to go? Like Annabelle needed onemorething to make her nervous.
Annabelle said, “Are you kidding? I’ll fit in anywhere? Hello, I’m horribly shy, and you’re not? You know that I basically want tobeyou, right? All confident and strong like that?”
“Isn’t that interesting,” Joan said. “How we tend to see the strength in other people and miss the strength in ourselves. Why is that? And is it just women, do you think?”
“Nope,” Waylon said. “Why men drink more. Can’t handle the doubt, and don’t think anybody else feels that way, because nobody says it.”
“Really,” Joan said. “I can see that.”
“Yep,” he said. “Don’t even necessarily want to tell their wife, because letting her know about the doubt could be the worst of all. Supposed to be strong for your wife.”
“You can tell me about your doubt,” she said. “I’ll listen.”
“Yep,” he said. “That’s why I married you.” And took another bite of Creole cream cheese potatoes.
Dyma said, “I read a thing once that said we’re always comparing our insides to everybody else’s outsides. Because, of course, people’s outsides are all we can see. That’s why reading social media statuses can be a little depressing, because it’s mostly about outsides. Which sounds like exactly what you’re saying, Waylon.” Yes, it was a personal thing to plunge right into with your boyfriend’s parents, but as usual, she was plunging anyway. Hey.They’dbrought it up.
“Now, see,” Waylon said, “I like that. That’s good.” And Dyma got a little glow.
“Exactly,” Joan said. Glow intensified.
“You know what Owen said, though?” Dyma asked, plunging in again. “After my horrible interview—which I’m addressing, because otherwise, it just sits here, all big and obvious, with everybody dancing around it—anyway, I said, ‘Now everybody’s going to think you have an ugly girlfriend,’ since I was in my sweats and all. Andhesaid something like, ‘Why would I care?’ Which is just amazing.”
“Yeah,” Waylon said, a smile so much like Owen’s lurking around the corner of his mouth and crinkling the skin around his eyes, “not sure that’s the best answer a man ever gave, though.”
“No, but see,” Dyma said, “he was explaining how I don’t have to worry, because there are no Pretty Police out there, ready to give me a ticket for Insufficient Grooming. Thatishow it can seem sometimes.”
“Not so much on a ranch,” Joan said with a laugh, “fortunately for me.”
“You always look great,” Waylon said. “What, you’re going to dress up to help me in the calving shed or ride out to check fenceline? Gotta get your lipstick just right for that?”
“That’s one reason I like sports,” Annabelle put in, which was a good job at joining the conversation, but then, Waylon and Joan were easy to talk to. “Because you’re there to do the sport and that’s all. All that popularity stuff just gets really exhausting.”
“How’s that going?” Dyma asked. “With the friends?”
“Better,” Annabelle said. “I did the clothes, like you said.” She told Joan, “Dyma gave me some really good advice when I was having trouble at school, being new. To sort of find my style, so I could be more confident in reaching out and making friends. Because of being new in school, and it being a lot bigger from my old one and all. Pretty different from North Dakota.” She was a little bit flushed, but she’d said it.
“I’m glad it’s working,” Dyma said. “Although it sounds like the exact opposite of what we’ve been talking about. Am I a hypocrite?”
“No,” Joan said. “Of course not. You’re realistic. And that sounds like good advice for Annabelle. Time and place. It’s pretty sad to be a woman who can’t leave the house without a full face of makeup, isn’t it? A little bit like a prison. And you know, I was just thinking—when I was in my early thirties, when my boys were young, I used to have this swimsuit I bought in sort of a fit of madness. High cut on the legs, two pieces, and black, with ribbed fabric and these little buttons down the front of the bottoms. Sophisticated, I thought, sort of a Fifties glamour-girl look.”
