Page 42 of Jack Frost
Trudging to my bedroom, I flip on the light and freeze.
On the bed lies a slim indigo dress, floor-length, its structured bodice frosted with silvery snowflakes and twining leaves. Along the hemline, more silvery flakes are sprinkled, interspersed with hints of sea-green beading. A strapless bra lies beside the dress, and a pair of strappy silver heels sit by the bed. On my pillow there's a soft gray wrap, like a wearable cloud; and beside it, a box.
Holding my breath, I approach the box and tip the lid open.
Inside, on navy velvet, lies a pendant shaped like an icicle, studded with tiny white gems, with earrings to match.
These look like actual diamonds. Genuine. Not crystal, or cubic zirconia.
I have never owned a diamond. Never even borrowed one to wear.
There are no designer names on any of the items, but the quality is undeniable. This is a very expensive ensemble, created just for me.
Limply I plop onto the edge of the bed. My fingers find Karyl's number almost automatically, and I lift the phone to my ear, still dazed.
Karyl's voice greets me. "Hey girl. You got that thing tonight, right? The benefit? Need me to do your hair and makeup?"
"I—maybe?"
"You okay?"
"Maybe?"
"Okay, yeah, I'm coming over. Be there in fifteen. What time is the party deal?"
"I need to be there a little before eight."
"Cool, we got time."
"But—" My brain is recovering, starting to form rational thoughts again. "You're going to do my hair? You haven't done my hair and makeup since college. Besides, you have a wife and a baby. You don't have time—"
"Hey. I've been busy, sure, but that doesn't mean you're off my radar, babe. You're family as far as I'm concerned. Speaking of which, you coming for Christmas? Wait, scratch that—it's not a question. You're coming over here for Christmas. And I'll see you in fifteen for your makeover."
" 'Kay." I drop the phone and run my fingertips over the silky surface of the dress. Never in my life did I imagine wearing something this lovely, with such elegant accessories.
I'm still staring at the outfit, wondering why Jack would do this and what it means, when Karyl knocks at the door. I always know it's her—she does this crisp staccato rap, five beats in sharp succession.
The first thing out of her mouth is, "What are you wearing tonight?"
Without answering, I sweep my hand toward the bedroom.
Karyl gasps when she sees the outfit. "Damn girl! I didn't know trips to Antarctica paid that much!"
"They don't. This is from Jack."
"Jack? The pasty pretty dude from the airport? The one we had coffee with?"
"Pasty—that's not very nice. Sure he's pale, but—"
"So itisfrom him." She whistles. "What is he, a model? App creator? Bitcoin banker?"
"He's got family money." It's the best excuse I can think of.
"Okay. Okay." She turns to face me, her dark eyes piercing right into my soul. "He obviously likes you. More than likes you, I'd say. He's taking you to this thing tonight?"
"I—I don't know."
"Text him, girl!"
