Page 19 of Walk on the Wilde Side
Kinsley tromps down the hallway in her platform shoes. She's on a new disco kick with tall shoes and colorful short dresses. It's a cute look, especially on her. And my earlier question is answered as she pops her face into the bathroom and my gold hoops dangle from her ears. "What'd you ask? I was on the phone."
"Never mind."
She steps into the bathroom, stares at me and tilts her head like a dog trying to figure out if her owner said the word "treat" or "bath." Kinsley surveys the cluster of various makeup products she pulled out of her drawer for me to use as I followed the tutorial. She looks back at me and lifts a brow. "You're either an expert at applying the natural look, or you haven't started yet. I watched the video. Mona knows her stuff."
"What Mona doesn't know is her boss. And that's kind of scary considering the two of us spend all day together behind a sandwich counter. I gave it my best shot, but I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to startle when you see yourself in the mirror after applying makeup."
Kinsley rolls her eyes. The gesture doesn't really go with her smoky eyed look. My sister always looks just right in makeup. Some faces were meant for it. "You just don't want to stand out in a crowd. The proverbial wallflower."
"Gee thanks. Isn't that a lovely title to have bestowed upon me. Not everyone wants all the heads in a room to turn." I wave at her outfit. The dress has a mod mix of colors, and the short, flared skirt flutters as she moves. "I can't tell which decade you're going for. You've kind of got a mix of 60s and 70s."
"I know. Isn't it great? Starting a new fashion trend called Modco. It's a combo of disco and mod."
"Yep, puzzled that one out all on my own."
She pushes her phone in front of my face, so I have no choice except to look at her screen. It's a selfie in this evening's outfit. "Three hundred likes and I only posted twenty minutes ago."
"Shit, not you too, Kiki. I already have to hear the rundown of all of Mona's likes and shares and frankly, it's so fucking boring."
"You're such a party pooper. Why should the twenty-somethings have all the fame and glory?"
"Not sure if three hundred or, for that matter, three thousand likes constitute fame and glory. I take it you're going to the Gold Rush." I lean forward to dab on some lipstick. Don't want to be too plain.
"Of course. With some of the girls from work. Nate's going to be on stage, and I always score extra points with my workmates when I introduce them to Nate. And he never disappoints. He's such a Valentino."
I straighten from the mirror and look at her. "What the hell is a Valentino?"
"You know, like the dreamy, old-time movie star. I'm trying to get the word to catch on. Do you think it'll work?"
"That depends. How many likes does it have?" I tease.
"Argh, you suck. What time is pretty boy Dane picking you up?"
"Don't call him that. Makes him sound sickly sweet. He'll be here soon."
Kinsley leans against the doorframe. Her shoes make her at least four inches taller, and it's odd having to look up to talk to my little sister. "So … how's it going? Getting serious? Maybe you'll be living in a big mansion one day and driving a cherry-red Mercedes."
I look at her and laugh. "Thirty years living in the same house, and it's like you don't know me at all."
"All right the mansion and Mercedes are more my things, but it's getting serious, isn't it?"
"Nope, so don't start planning your guest room in the mansion quite yet."
A rumble outside shakes the windows on Nana's old cottage. It's a house that Kinsley and I will keep forever. It has far too many memories to ever consider parting with it.
Kinsley pushes off the doorframe, and her big, unwieldy shoes nearly pitch her sideways.
"Practical for the dance floor, too," I quip.
"Practical, schmactical." She holds up her phone. "Four hundred nineteen likes and counting. Oh, and I think lover boy is here."
"Lover boy is even worse than pretty boy," I say as I quickly return all the makeup to Kinsley's drawer.
"Then what should I call him?" she asks.
"Uh, I don't know. Dane?"
She wrinkles her nose. "Not crazy about that name."
