At the mall Mama insists that we get all new outfits for the fall. We run around J. C. Penney and Mama throws item after item into our cart. By the time we get to the dressing room the cart is overflowing with dresses and jeans and tops and more. I am so excited about my new outfits that I twirl and twirl in the dressing room. I’m finally getting a couple formal dresses to wear to concerts. Since we left our last shopping trip at Ross without getting anything.
But just as I am practicing a curtsy in a red dress Eve sticks her head into my stall and frowns at me. “Keda!” She hisses. “This is not a game. We need to tell Mama we don’t need all of this. I mean. You know I love shopping. But this. This is cray cray.”
“Mama says we’re treating ourselves.” I try. But I know something is not right.
“Makeda don’t be a baby. You know that’s not what’s happening here. Take off that dress and put it back. I’ll try to sneak some of the other things in the cart back onto the racks.”
“I’m not a baby!” I hiss at Eve. But she’s already left my stall.
I tear off the dress I am wearing and shove it under the bench in the dressing room. It’s not fair! It’s not fair! My head screams. Why can’t we just have a fun shopping day! But then I help Eve put some of the things in our cart back while Mama is trying on dresses of her own.
Mama still spends $500 on clothes for us. Then she buys herself two new concert gowns that cost about $300 each.
“Do you have a concert coming up?” I ask.
“No. But I will. This trip is the recharge I need. My head is so clear. I know I can book some gigs if I just focus and practice. And also if I look good! No more sweatpants and frumpy shirts.
“Who wants a makeover?” Mama says then. Beelining for the Origins store after we leave J. C. Penney. Mama doesn’t wait for an answer. She plops herself into a chair at the vanity station. “Can you do all of us?” Mama says pointing to Eve and me standing bashfully in the doorway.
“Sure can.” The makeup artist coos. “We’ve got some great natural options for all of your complexions.” But that’s a lie. When she gets to me all she does is rub some dusty gold eye shadow on my lids and give me some cotton candy pink gloss that makes me look like a sad Barbie. She doesn’t even try to match my skin for foundation or blush.
“You don’t need that stuff anyway!” Eve whispers. When she sees the salty look on my face. “Your skin is perfect.”
I roll my eyes at her. “Sure.” I say. But my makeover only takes like ten minutes. While Mama and Eve sit in the chair for at least twenty minutes each. Trying on all kinds of creams and colors and options.
In the end Mama buys herself a whole new set of moisturizer foundation concealer eye shadow mascara and lipstick. Then she buys Eve and me each a couple of lip glosses and eye shadows. I lose track of how much money we’ve spent. By 3pm we are starving. We convince Mama to let us buy pretzels and sit for a few moments as we eat them. After five minutes Mama leaps up. “Alright. Are we done? How about we get pedicures?”
“I thought you said pedicures were unhygienic? You never let us get our nails done.” Eve says still sitting. Finishing the last bite of her pretzel.
“Not your fingernails. You need to keep those short for playing piano. But getting our toes done every once in a blue moon won’t hurt.”
“What about craft day?” I ask. “When are we going back to the cabin to watch movies and knit?”
“Oh the cabin will be there! Girls come on. You can’t be pooping out on me already. This is our fun girls’ trip. We are getting pedicures and that is that. We are having fun. Fun! Fun! Fun!”