6. Megyn
CHAPTER 6
MEGYN
I hummed a little while tying off some stitches, finishing the last-minute alterations on my dress. Once I had started working on it, getting the fit to match me better, I started getting a strange sense of familiarity, like I had seen a dress like it somewhere before. A quick search of famous dresses on Google brought me the results I had been looking for.
The color was the same soft, blueish-white as Cinderella’s dress, the one she wore when she went to the prince’s ball. Once I figured that out, inspiration flooded through me, carrying me away, and I had started doing more work than was needed to just adjust the fit, which was why it had taken so long, right up to the point where I had less than an hour until Maggie would arrive.
I added some puffy material to the sleeves and modified the bodice to get that delicate vee shape. I added more of the same sleeve material to the top of the skirt, where the bodice met. Finally, though I could do little to make the skirt fuller, I created some artificial folds with clever stitching, so it wouldn’t hang so straight, like a potato sack.
Once I finished with the last stitches, I put the dress on and headed over to the bedroom mirror to check myself out. I gasped, pleased and admittedly surprised at the outcome. The raggedy old Goodwill garment had had new life breathed into it. The dress molded comfortably to my curves, flared out around my hips where I’d made those bunches of fabric.
For the first time, I felt myself getting excited about the party.
Still wearing my dress, the skirt fluttering around my ankles, I dashed into the bathroom and pulled my hair back into a quick bun, held in place with a dark blue headband. I put on a simple choker, which I had also made. It was only a thin strip of soft black fabric, secured with Velcro at the back.
I put in my contacts, since princesses didn’t wear glasses, and applied some makeup, since princesses did do that. Blue eyeshadow with a touch of white at the inside corners of my eyes and mascara, plus blush and a dark plum-red lipstick. When I looked in the mirror again, I hardly recognized myself.
Time to put on the finishing touches.
I turned to my closet, when my phone started buzzing, ringing incessantly. I bit my lip to hold back a swear and then did swear when I realized that may have ruined my makeup. A quick look at the clock on my dresser reassured me that I would have enough time to answer the call before Maggie arrived. Maybe.
I grabbed my phone and looked at the screen. My heart lurched up into my throat to see my father’s number. I licked my lips, once more doing harm to my lipstick, and then answered.
“Hi, Daddy.”
“Hey, pumpkin.”
I smiled and giggled a little at how apt his term of endearment was.
“What’s funny?”
I looked down at myself, my dress and bare, wiggling toes peeping out from under the hem of the skirt. “I’m just about to go to a party. A Halloween party. I’m dressed like Cinderella.”
Dad paused. “What does that have to do with pumpkins?”
He never did watch those movies with me. Just set me down in front of them to keep me busy.
My throat ached a little. I did the best I could to ignore it. “It doesn’t matter. Never mind.”
“Well, okay.”
For once, couldn’t he have showed a little more interest and asked for more information? He cared so little about what I had to say.
“I was going to ask you how you’re doing,” Dad said finally, “but since you’re about to go to a party, I can safely assume you’re well and I shouldn’t spend too much time getting you bogged down in the details.”
I closed my eyes and gripped the phone a little tighter, wondering if he could hear the plastic straining in my grasp. I wanted to let him know he couldn’t be more wrong. I was suffering, unwell, always an inch away from going bankrupt; but, that would be getting bogged down in the details and he’d made it very clear he didn’t want that.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
“I’m glad to hear it. Do you want me to hand you off to Crystal for a minute, if you have one to spare? I’m sure she’d love to hear about the party.”
“Oh, that’s…”
My protest died on my lips as Crystal spoke over me, from out of nowhere. “A party?” she exclaimed, voice tinny from the poor call quality, thanks to my old and cruddy phone. “She’s going to a party?”
“Find out for yourself,” Dad said.
“Dad…”
Another unheard protest as he passed the phone over to Crystal. She pressed, “What sort of party, darling? Not a rave, I hope. I don’t want to think you could get that much lower.”
I was certain the phone would shatter in my hand in a minute. If this went on for much longer than that, I’d wind up lobbing it at the wall just to get her to shut up. She had always spoken like a California girl, despite having spent most of her life on the East Coast. Every sentence twisted up at the end into a falsetto, and it was like nails raking down a chalkboard funneled right into my ear.
Honestly, it was the sound of her voice that got me, more than the veiled insult. It didn’t even bother me that Dad said nothing in my defense, didn’t reprimand his so-called wife for her behavior. If he was listening, that was.
“It’s a Halloween party. A costume party. I’m going as Cinderella.”
Crystal tutted. “The maid princess. Well, I suppose they don’t have a princess that worked at a coffee shop. Are you still doing that, by the way?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you never were much of a self-starter. Never very ambitious. Whose party is it?”
Even though I really didn’t care about Carter Bryant’s party for the most part, it occurred to me now that I could use it as a way to get one over on her. “Do you know a guy named Carter Bryant? Famous in the—”
Once again, I was cut off. Crystal squealed in shock and while I hated the sound, I couldn’t have been more satisfied.
“ The Carter Bryant? No way You’re making fun of me. There is no way that you would be able to get into a party like that.”
I decided to withhold from her that anyone could come. “Well, I did. And if you’ll excuse me, my ride is here.”
“Wait, Megyn!”
I hung up on Crystal, grinning with a fierce satisfaction, though it didn’t last long. Who was I kidding? She’d do some research and find all the advertisements for the party and realize I was full of shit.
Yeah, said a little voice inside me, but until then, she’ll be pissed and that’s great.
I allowed myself another little grin and then went to finish the rest of my preparations. Maggie pulled up in the driveway just as I finished putting my shoes on. I considered that to be lucky, since I really hadn’t wanted her to know what I had on under my dress. Expensive shoes were not within my budget. I had on the blue Converse I wore every day, for every occasion. I figured it wouldn’t matter much, since the dress was long enough to hide them.
Maggie honked her horn, a little blip to let me know she had arrived. I grabbed my purse and shoved my keys in, making sure to lock my new deadbolt on the way out.
Maggie stared at me through her windshield as I approached under the dusk-purpling sky. I ducked my head, nerves tinging in my stomach, absolutely certain she stared because I looked awful.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” I said, smoothing my skirt under my thighs and climbing in.
“Megyn.” Maggie shook her head, a wide smile spreading on her lips. “Holy cow! I have never seen you like this before. You look amazing! ”
I blushed and lowered my head even more, wishing I hadn’t put my hair up so I could hide behind it. “It’s not all that different from what I’m normally like.”
Maggie grabbed my shoulder. “You’re kidding me. You’re so pretty always, but with the mascara and the lipstick and… and the everything, I’m seriously blown away.”
“Stop,” I murmured, giggling nervously. “I just got inspired by the dress. And, I mean, if I’m going to this party, I figured I might as well try to blend in. I don’t want anyone staring at me.”
Maggie shook her head and shifted into reverse, backing out of my short driveway. “Well, if that was your plan, you have seriously failed. No way you’ll blend in. You’re hot! ”
“Maggie, don’t. I’m too nervous!”
Suddenly, I realized that Maggie didn’t seem to be wearing a costume. “Who are you going as?”
She smiled a secret little smile. “You’ll see.”
I frowned, but didn’t press further. I wasn’t sure what sort of costume would require waiting to wear. She wanted me to wait, so I would.
Carter’s party was being held at a beachfront warehouse he owned, about a 20-minute drive from my house. Staten Island wasn’t exactly humongous, but that was still pretty far, all things considered. I knew little of the Island outside of my neighborhood and the parks and the immediate surroundings, and the shops, having no reason to go anywhere else. Massive apartment buildings and mansions sprouted around us as we neared our destination, a mystifying and unfamiliar forest that filled me with a sense of dread. I didn’t belong on this part of the Island. I didn’t belong anywhere near these wealthy people and their expensive lives, when I could hardly afford to put bread on the table and had to pretty much make my own costume.
“Don’t look so nervous,” Maggie said.
My hands curled into white-knuckled fists in my lap. “What if I fuck something up?”
“You’re kidding. There are going to be so many people here at the party. They aren’t all going to be billionaires and socialites. You’re never going to see any of them ever again.” Maggie shrugged. “So what if, by some twist of fate, you do mess up in some day? The only one who will ever remember… is you. And maybe not even you if you drink enough,” she laughed.
I tried to relax. She made it all sound so easy, so maybe it was easy and I was just making it all out to be more complicated because I wasn’t used to this sort of thing.
Carter’s warehouse came into view, a massive concrete monster backed by a cold, roaring ocean, waves slamming on the beach. People moved in droves around the property. Guards in uniform, wearing orange visibility vests, guided vehicles around a maze of taped-off parking areas.
My heart hammered in my throat. So many people. I tried to keep myself calm still, telling myself they were all in costume, just like me. I saw plenty of women in dresses, and a lot of superhero costumes, animal outfits, and lazy attempts that hardly qualified for any category, caps and headbands and t-shirts with logos on them. Shouts and laughter rang out through the night against a backdrop of chilling music, high, wavering notes wrung from the keys of a piano and the strings of violins and guitars.
Maggie drove up to the entrance of the parking lot. A guard held out his hand to stop us, if we hadn’t already planned on it.
Maggie rolled down her window.
The guard wore face paint, which turned him into a weird anthropomorphic dog of sorts. “Hey, ladies.”
“Hi,” Maggie said, smiling.
“Any other vehicles with you?”
“No.”
He nodded. I figured they were doing their best to keep people from the same groups together, for safety’s sake. “Cool, cool. So drive straight ahead, until you reach that guy with the green lights. He’ll wave you to the right, to another green-light guy, and he’ll get you to your parking section. When you’re ready to leave, you drive around to the back. We’re got a separate system set up for departures.”
“Thank you,” Maggie said.
“Thank you,” I added.
The puppy-faced guard looked past Maggie, to me, seeming to notice me sitting there in the passenger’s seat for the first time.
Maggie faced forward and let off her break.
“Hold it,” the guard barked.
Maggie stomped on the brakes, eyes opening wide. “Yes?”
The guard pointed past her, to me. “Are you Cinderella?”
I shrank down in my seat and nodded.
“I knew it!” He grinned, which didn’t do his face paint any favors. “Listen, my kid’s favorite princess is Cinderella. Mind if I take a picture of you real quick so I can tell him I met his idol tonight?”
Maggie exclaimed, “Absolutely, she’ll let you take her picture.”
“Wait!” I protested, shrinking down in my seat even more. Pretty soon, I’d wind up sitting on the floor. “Won’t that hold up the line?”
“So?” The guard shrugged his shoulders.
There really wasn’t any arguing with a person who didn’t care. I had no choice other than to step out of the car. The guard came over to me and I breathed a silent breath of relief. My legs were too shaky to walk far without getting all tangled up in my dress.
The guard lifted his phone and took a few pictures of me while I stood with my back to the chaos of the party. I forced myself to smile, knowing it was strained, knowing there was nothing I could do about it. Everyone had to be staring at me, wondering what I was doing, who I was, why anyone would want to take a picture of me. I felt the heat of a thousand stares on the back of my neck.
After what seemed like an eternity, but which could have been only a few seconds, the guard put his phone down. “Thanks,” he said to me, with a friendly little punch on my shoulder. He added, “Princess.”
“You’re welcome,” I stammered, and fled into the car.
Maggie started driving again, following the guard’s prior instructions. “You’re going to give that kid nightmares, scowling at the camera like that.”
“Oh, god,” I moaned, burying my face in my hands. “Was it that bad?”
Maggie lifted a hand to one of the other guards outside the window and followed his waves, turning down to another section of parking lot. The outlines of the spots had been marked in glow-in-the-dark paint, striping the concrete with eerie green scars. “I’m only teasing you, sweetie. You looked gorgeous. I could just tell you were dying inside, is all.”
“Let’s hope that’s only because you know me well.”
“Mmm,” she hummed, and parked. “Okay! Now I get to show off my costume.”
I followed her around to the trunk of her car. “Why is it such a secret?”
“Huh? Oh, it’s not a secret. I just didn’t feel like wearing it. And it’s so easy to put on.”
I folded my arms and watched her pull things out of the trunk. “You know me well, but I also know you. That’s a lie. You just wanted to make me sit and wonder.”
“Well, that would be a reason why I didn’t feel like putting it on.”
“Why did you bother going to art school? You should have been a lawyer.”
Maggie ignored me and donned the pieces of her costume. She pulled on a leather jacket and looped a red scarf around her neck. Next, she secured a ginger wig on top of her head. By that point, I couldn’t have been more confused. Her costume was… a red-head?
Maggie reached into her trunk and pulled out the last piece of her costume, a little camera with a long strap attached, so she could wear it around her neck. “Ta-da!”
“You’re a journalist,” I guessed. “A photographer? You’re… yourself, but from an alternate reality, so your hair is red and awful.”
She laughed. “Maybe in some alternate reality, I would be Mary Jane, sure.”
“Mary Jane?” I only knew of one Mary Jane and it meant something that definitely was not a person.
“From Spider-Man? Come on, Megyn! You have to have at least some knowledge of pop culture.”
“Oh,” I exclaimed, finally getting it.
Maggie rolled her eyes at me and draped her arm over my shoulders. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“In my defense, Mary Jane isn’t nearly as iconic as a Disney princess.”
Maggie tugged me along with her, leading the way toward the foreboding warehouse and its many occupants. I tried to drag my steps, to delay arrival as long as possible, but she was stronger than me and my efforts made no discernable difference.
We stepped through the vast open doors in the wake of a loud group of friends all pushing and shoving at each other.
And my first view of the actual party confirmed for me, beyond any doubt, that I didn’t belong.