57

Stepford Girlfriend

I flew back to Vancouver in the middle of December. This trip was both a visa requirement and my last chance to see my parents before they left. Jimmy was going on a road trip that would end up in Vancouver, just before his Christmas break. We would have dinner with my parents and then fly to Fredericton to spend Christmas with his family.

“Kelly! Welcome home.” My mom and dad were so happy to see me. They both picked me up at the airport and were talking nonstop about their upcoming round-the-world trip. Every time I talked to them, they had added a new country to the itinerary.

It felt great to get back home and relax, but what a transformation.

“Man, there’s no stuff here anymore,” I said. My mom collected everything: branches, dried flowers, shells, rocks, and pottery of all kinds. It had all been artistically arranged, but the total effect was a little claustrophobic. Now the place was practically minimalist.

“We had to clear everything out in preparation for the house rental. Your dad was ruthless.” My mom sounded wistful.

“Molly, you asked me to do it,” my dad protested.

“Dad, is it weird for you not to be working long hours all the time?” He probably cleaned out the house top-to-bottom in one day. My dad had tons of energy.

“Luckily, I have lots of research to do for our trip. And I’ve done a complete plan for packing. It’s important to travel light.”

My mom sighed again. She was a person who liked to have things around—just in case.

“When’s Roger getting home?” I hadn’t seen my brother since his brief visit in the summer.

“He’s back on Thursday. That means you’ll only get to see him for three days before you leave.” My mom focused in on me. “Kelly, we really wish you were spending Christmas with us.”

“Uh, well—Jimmy really wanted me to go to Fredericton with him for Christmas.” To be honest, I hadn’t even thought about staying here. Jimmy had made all the flight arrangements and, since I was spending a week with my parents, it seemed only fair to spend five days with Jimmy’s. But it would be the first Christmas I had spent away from home. And since my parents weren’t going to be here for the next holiday season; that made things doubly disappointing.

“It won’t be the same without you, sweetheart,” my dad said.

I felt suddenly sad. I could talk to Jimmy and try to stay here, but he hated changing plans at the last minute. It was my own fault for not thinking this through when we first started talking about the holidays. Now that I was home, I wished I could stay longer. I felt so relaxed and comfortable.

“You look different,” my dad commented and squinted at me.

“That’s because Kelly has makeup on, and she’s dressed up,” my mom chimed in. “You’re looking very ladylike, dear. All new clothes too, you must be doing a lot of shopping in Chicago.” My mom sounded very happy about all this, an unexpected benefit of my worship at the church of Cherie.

As soon as she went to the kitchen, my dad asked, “Do you have enough money?”

“Sure,” I told him.

“Well, how are you paying for all this shopping? I thought you were going to school.”

“Yes, I am,” I replied. I knew he wasn’t going to like the truth. “Jimmy pays our living expenses. He does make a lot of money, you know.”

“I am well aware of what hockey players make,” my dad replied. “But I’m a little worried about your independence. It doesn’t seem right to take so much from your boyfriend. It’s one thing if he pays the rent, but for the clothes on your back too?”

“I know. I don’t feel comfortable either. But my lack of appropriate clothing kind of became an issue, so….” I hated spending money on clothes, something I’d never prioritized, but it had made Jimmy so happy that I’d swept my conscience under the carpet.

He shook his head. “Kelly, I told you to ask us for money anytime you need it. Why don’t I loan you the money, and you can repay James?”

Taking money from my dad would make me feel even worse. And I knew Jimmy wouldn’t take the money. “Dad, I know exactly where you’re coming from. I am keeping track of things, and I’m going to pay him back once I get a job.”

My dad didn’t look exactly happy with that answer, but my mom came back so he let it go. Still, I felt the difference in the dinner atmosphere tonight versus when we were celebrating my independence a few months ago. I wasn’t doing anything to make my parents proud now.


“Is there something in the water in Chicago?” April asked me when we met for coffee downtown.

“Maybe fluoride?”

“I can’t get over how different you look.”

I was wearing jeans, but with an embroidered top, leather jacket, and boots. “Cherie helped me to buy some new clothes. I have to get more dressed up these days, especially when I’m out with Jimmy.” How bad did I look before, if a few new clothes made everyone flip out?

“Why?”

“Because people are looking at us. People take photos of him all the time.”

“Hmmm. I guess that makes sense, but still—you’re wearing a lot of makeup. And are those false eyelashes?” Cherie had instilled in me that a look came naturally if you did it all the time, so I was maintaining my new routines.

“Why are you ragging on me? You spent your whole life trying to get me to look like this.”

“And you spent your whole life resisting me. I’m trying to find out how Cherie did it in only four months.”

I frowned. It wasn’t really Cherie, she only did what I asked. “Jimmy likes me to look like this.”

“Oh.” April twirled her spoon in her latte. Maybe her feelings were hurt because she was used to being my fashion consultant.

“Hey, I need a dress for a big New Year’s Eve do. Maybe we can go shopping together.”

“Sure, that sounds like fun.” April brightened up.

“I want something sexy, maybe showing some skin.

April didn’t answer. Instead, she got up, walked around behind me, and started poking in the back of my hair.

“April?”

“Mmm hmm?”

“What are you doing?”

“Just looking. Clones always have some sign right? There’s a scar or a UPC mark or something. I want proof that James replaced my best friend with a Stepford Wife.”

“Why am I a clone?”

“Because you used the following words: ‘I want’ ‘a dress’ ‘sexy’ and ‘showing skin.’ Kelly Tanaka would never ever use those words together. The Kelly Tanaka I know spent years avoiding exposing any part of herself to the world. Didn’t you wear a turtleneck to our Grade Seven grad?”

“It was unseasonably cold that day.”

“It was June in Vancouver. But I don’t want to argue about the weather ten years ago. Why do you want a sexy dress?”

“Well Jimmy would like me to look sexier, more feminine. Not all the time, but you know, for special nights. Like New Year’s Eve.”

“I thought he liked the way you looked before,” April said. “He certainly seemed to last summer.”

“He does. He likes me all ways. It’s only that he has a lot of responsibility, and he needs to keep up a mature image. Especially because he is the youngest captain in the league.”

April shook her head. “Okay, let’s go shopping. I assume from the way you’re dressed that money is no object.”

“I haven’t changed that much. I hate spending too much on clothes.”

April always knew these secret shopping places, so we ended up in a tiny frock shop.

“Here you go.” She held out a glittery white dress, which looked… tiny.

“Is there a jacket too?” My voice had a wimpy tone.

“It’s exactly what you asked for. Get in the room and put it on.”

April sat outside the curtain and complained about Ben’s family. “I get along well with his mom and dad now, but his grandmother and a few of the cousins think he shouldn’t date outside his race.” She sighed mightily. “It’s not like I have yellow fever or anything, Ben is the first Asian guy I’ve ever dated. Doesn’t that mean that I love him for himself?”

“Well, you’re friends with me, aren’t you?”

“Like you’re Japanese at all. Except for your last name, nobody would have a clue. Can you even cook sushi?”

“April, sushi is raw. But no, I can’t make it anyway. Or anything Japanese.”

“Yeah, why am I asking? You can’t even cook Canadian food.”

I came out of the dressing room in the dress and stood in front of the three-way mirror. The dress was white and sequined. The front had a big V down the middle almost to my navel, and each breast was encased in its own sparkly cup magically supported with hidden wires. The bottom was short with a flippy hem. It was exactly what I had asked for. I looked in the three-way mirror and felt—naked. All I could see were my breasts and thighs.

April was watching me in the mirror. Her mouth was turned down, and she spoke gently.

“Why are you trying so hard to please him?”

I didn’t know what to say to that. Maybe there was something in the Chicago water. All my girlfriends were the same: our worlds rotated around our boyfriends—their schedules, their games, their preferences. The team was the same, focusing on the players and their needs. We tried to cocoon them off the ice, because their time on the ice was so demanding and important. In fact, I was one of the more independent girlfriends since I had my classes.

“It’s the way my life is. And why shouldn’t I look really hot for a change?”

“You know, I’m all for you looking good. But you have to feel comfortable, otherwise you’ll spend all night huddled in the corner hiding. Look at you now—your shoulders are all hunched because you’re embarrassed about your cleavage.”

We both looked at the mirror, where I was looking more like Quasimodo than Esmeralda.

“I’d hug you, but I might touch you in a naked, inappropriate place,” April said. “Let me find you something that’s sexy and sweet.”

She found me a purple dress that was soft and sleeveless with a high collar. The skirt was longer and swirled around my legs.

“See, you look beautiful. And it shows off your bulging biceps. We’ll get you some festive shoes and you’ll be a stunner.”

I hugged April. It was great to be back in Vancouver.