One step in front of the other, one day at a time.
That’s been my new motto and the only way I can survive.
Life without her is void of color, of spark, of substance.
I miss her like I miss breathing. She is a part of me that will never be whole again.
“I just wanted you to know I’m here, if at any time during the day the load gets too heavy to bear,” the school counselor said.
“Thank you. I don’t want to talk about it.” That had been my line for the past month.
To my teachers, to the kids at school who meant well. To my mum. To Jaxson.
He’d come over the night of the funeral and sat with me outside. I hadn’t cried since the morning after she died; crying all night, I’d felt like I would never be able to stop, but once I did, I was all dried up.
He brought his guitar over and sang to me, and I curled up in the grass and fell asleep. When I woke up, I was in my bed with the blankets up to my chin. I never thanked him for that, but I was grateful nonetheless.
It was a drunk driver who took her from me. A man, who when they arrested him, was still saying he wasn’t drunk. That’s what the news reported and what I’d heard around school. No one tried to talk to me about it anymore though. I didn’t know how I got through the day because I blinked and I was home again, crawling into bed, barely sleeping at night, and getting up the next day to do it all over again.
That I passed sophomore year was thanks to the teachers who’d loved Tyra. They looked out for me, and until my head cleared enough to function more easily, they let things slide. Months later, when the circles under my eyes weren’t quite as dark and I was more present in class, I was able to catch up at my own pace.
Heather sniffed around some to see if I was ready to fight back and expose her secret, but when she saw how I could barely get through the day, she left me alone. I didn’t thank her for that either, but I was grateful. Nothing mattered anymore.
Over the summer, when I started to feel more like myself, the pain of losing Tyra really hit. When my mum left for work and returned and I still hadn’t gotten out of bed, she came in and pulled the covers off of me.
“Get up. I need my daughter back,” she said. “Tomorrow I expect you to start looking for a job. If you don’t get one in the next week, I’ll make you come work at the real estate office with me, and you know how boring that will be.”
I rolled my eyes and stood up, stretching, and my mum gasped.
“Since when are you so much taller than me?” She pulled me over by her and we looked in the mirror. I was a good four inches taller than her. “You must have grown half a foot since summer started.” She pinched my side and I yelped. “What the bloody hell?” she hollered. “There’s nothing to ya. You’re skin and bones. Are you not eating?”
I plopped down on the bed and fell back. “I could never be skin and bones,” I told her. “I’m eating. Just haven’t been as hungry.”
“What did you eat today?” she asked, her eyes narrowing in on me, as she cinched my shirt together.
“Toast and fruit for breakfast, chicken salad on a croissant for lunch, and I was waiting to see if you’d make dinner,” I said.
“Hmm. Well, I know I’ve seen you mostly horizontal for months, so this skinny, stretched out business has me gobsmacked.” She glared at me again. “You promise you’re telling the truth about eating?”
“Yes,” I groaned. “Fix me dinner and I’ll show you,” I said and she smiled.
“It’s good to see my girl,” she said. “Tonight, we’re measuring you against the doorframe. I can’t believe it. I know I’ve always said you were just a late bloomer like me and your gran, but I was beginning to wonder if you were gonna be a shorty like your Grammy Hart.” She laughed and went to the door. “How about we go out for dinner and get you some new clothes?”
“I don’t know…” I frowned. I didn’t want to leave my room.
She held up her finger. “No arguing…you’ll need clothes for this new job you’ll be getting.”
“Right,” I dragged out.
I hadn’t really believed my mother, but when I got in a dressing room and all my normal sizes were too short and super baggy, I realized she was right. I asked her to get a size smaller and it was still too big. Four sizes smaller and I stared with shock in the mirror.
I could hear Tyra’s voice in my head. “Damn, girl, you’re looking good!”
And for the first time since she’d died, I giggled. I shimmied into a pair of jeans I wouldn’t have been caught dead in before and stared at myself.
“Weird,” I whispered.
I was still curvy, but for someone who’d always had extra rolls and dimples and had been termed pudgy since I’d moved to California, there was now definition.
I went home with a new wardrobe, and the next day, I got up and looked online for jobs. I didn’t see any that looked exciting, but I filled out applications anyway. That evening, when Mum came home from work, I told her about the places I’d tried.
“None of them look interesting though,” I said.
“Well, keep looking. I want you to find something that’s at least somewhat fun.”
A few days later, she sent me to the grocery store while she ran into another store nearby, and on the window of a salon I’d never been in but had always wanted to try, there was a sign about a job.
I walked inside and admired the place. It was bustling, but cheerful and clean. The receptionist asked if I had an appointment.
“I wondered if I could fill out an application.”
“Lord, yes. We are in dire need. I’m Liesl, the owner, and I’d rather be cutting hair, but I’m answering phones and trying my best to keep the place clean.” She was petite and spoke almost faster than I could keep up with, but I knew right away that I liked her. Her hair was blond with pink streaks and her makeup was divine. “Fill this out, make sure to let me know your availability, and I’ll look it over as soon as you’re done.”
Once I’d given the form to her, we had the interview right then and there, and I went home with the job. I started the next morning and quickly fell in love with the job, the regulars, and my co-workers. I worked hard that summer and the best part of being around Liesl was that she carried on where Tyra had left off in one regard—she helped me find my confidence.
Liesl came flying in the door one morning. “I have a wedding this weekend and Sajel has pneumonia. Are you free? I know you’re ready. I’d much rather have you do makeup than take someone from Sajel’s team that I don’t know.”
“Are you sure I’m ready?” I asked, my heart pumping with excitement. “School starts the week after next, so I am free.”
“Hells yeah, you’re ready,” she said, grinning. “This is going to be way more fun. I’ve been dying for you to come do this with me. I’ll show you pictures of what the bride is thinking when we have a lull later.”
I went home and opened up the pictures, practicing on myself until I thought I had it right.
The day of the wedding, Liesl came to pick me up at seven in the morning, but I’d already been up for hours. Since I was too excited to sleep much, my hair was in perfect shiny waves, pulled back on top so it wouldn’t get in my way. My makeup was on point. I wore a top that made my blue eyes bluer and dress pants that fit perfectly.
It had been nine months since Tyra had been gone, but I felt like she’d put in a word for me up above—good things were happening. I still missed her every minute of every day, couldn’t talk about her yet—who knew how I’d feel once school started—but she was with me. She’d be proud of me for getting back up.
“Whoa,” I said, as we pulled into the circular drive of a house even bigger than Jaxson’s. We’d done a practice run at the shop with the bride the day before and she’d been so down-to-earth. “This is where Jenna lives?”
“I think it might be.” Liesl laughed. “Damn, I should’ve charged her a lot more.”
We were still laughing when we got to the door and it opened before we could knock.
“I’m Sandy, Jenna’s mother. Come on back.” She led us through the jaw-dropping house and knocked on a bedroom door.
Liesl and I got to work setting up our stations. I did Sandy’s makeup while Liesl curled Jenna’s hair and then we swapped. They sipped champagne and got happier the more time passed. When I finished Jenna’s makeup and turned her toward the mirror, she lit up when she saw herself, fanning herself to stop the tears. I decided then that I wanted to spend my life trying to make people happy like this.
Bridesmaids trickled in and I continued working, feeling energized by the hour. I loved pulling out each person’s best features and making them feel good about themselves.
After their pictures, we freshened up hair and makeup and packed up our things as the wedding was about to start. Since the wedding was to be in the back garden, we were leaving as guests were arriving.
I took a load out to the car and came back in to help Liesl, turning to go down the hall and colliding with someone.
“Watch it!” she said. Then she stared me up and down, having to look up at me now instead of down—so weird—and her nose curled up in distaste. “What are you doing here?” she finally asked.
“Heather,” I responded.
“Well,” she said, waving her hand for me to come out with it.
“None of your business,” I said quietly.
She looked me up and down again, her expression darkening.
“You have something to say or can you just bugger off already?” I said, trying to move past her.
“You’ve lost like a hundred pounds, good for you,” she said.
I could tell when she got her bearings back because she grinned then, like a tiger about to go in for the kill.
“For a while I wondered if Jax was saving himself for, I don’t know…a childhood friend…it’s crazy, but I did wonder. It was ridiculous though, because this summer…” She shook her head and bit her lip, her teeth slashing white daggers against her dark red lips. “Well, let’s just say, we’ve had quite the summer. He had a lot of time to make up for.”
Liesl walked out then, saving me from making a fool of myself. She took one look at my face and grabbed my arm.
“There you are,” she said and hustled us out of there.
“See you at school.” I heard Heather call out before I shut the door behind me.
I didn’t know which hurt worse: that he hadn’t been having sex with Heather as long as I’d assumed and now he was, or if I’d gotten my act together sooner in the summer, maybe I could’ve done something to prevent it.