Chapter Two
If Jill hoped to shock Meggie, it wasn’t going to work. “Heavens, no!” Meggie said with an amused smile. “I don’t even kiss
until the third date.”
Jill glanced up, her blue eyes wide with feigned shock. “Oh, swell.” She flopped down on the couch. “Mind if I watch TV?”
“Go ahead, I’m washing walls. When I’m finished I need to do some shopping. You can come along if you like.”
The girl shrugged indifferently. “Why not? There’s nothing else to do.”
As she worked, Meggie glanced into the living room several times. Quinn said his daughter was thirteen; she looked and behaved
more like sixteen. She wore a snug-fitting T-shirt and tight jeans. Nothing seemed to interest the girl for long. Meggie heard
the television remote switched several times. One channel would be on for ten minutes and then abruptly changed to another.
Every time Meggie looked into the room, Jill was sitting on a different piece of furniture, watching a different show.
Meggie finished cleaning the walls and began feeling guilty for not being a better hostess.
“Are you hungry?” Meggie asked.
“Naw,” Jill shouted back, her eyes not leaving the figures moving on the television screen. “I never eat breakfast.”
Meggie stopped herself just in time before commenting on how important breakfast is to a growing teenager. With Jill’s attitude,
advice would only harm any friendship that could develop between them.
“I’m going to fix myself an omelette so let me know if you want something.”
She was whipping up the eggs when Jill entered the kitchen. One of the chairs was twisted around and she straddled it horse-style.
Her arms crossed over the top of the seat, her chin resting on her forearm.
“What’s that?” Her eyes were focused on the cheese and green onions on the countertop.
“Stuff for the omelette,” Meggie replied, beginning to grate the cheese.
“Looks gross. I bet it tastes that way too.”
Smiling softly to herself, Meggie continued to work. “Surprisingly it doesn’t. My dad taught me how to cook lots of stuff
with eggs. Every Saturday morning we emptied the refrigerator, putting leftovers in omelettes. You wouldn’t believe some of
the combinations we came up with.”
“Didn’t your mother mind the two of you in her kitchen?”
Meggie stopped and turned around. “My mother died when I was about your age.”
A short silence followed. “My mother’s dead.”
“I’m sorry, Jill, I didn’t know.”
“My dad has never gotten over her death. I live with my grandmother now because of dad’s job and all.”
“That must make it hard for you?”
The small shoulders shrugged expressively. “Not really, my grandma’s all right. She wants me to be a movie star like my mother.”
“Your mother was a movie star?”
Jill appeared pleased at Meggie’s interest. “Yeah, she made hundreds of movies. She was real famous.”
Hundreds of movies, real famous? Things were beginning to ring untrue. “What was her name, maybe I’ve heard of her?”
A peculiar look flickered across Jill’s expression. “I can’t tell you that. My dad doesn’t like me to let anyone know about
my mother. I probably shouldn’t have told you.” She lifted her chin in a gesture of pride, as if the daughter of a famous
actress should sit up properly.
“Don’t worry,” Meggie assured her with a smile. “I won’t say a word.”
Placing a pat of butter into the pan, Meggie waited until it had melted and was bubbling before pouring the whipped eggs inside.
Jill stood and was watching as Meggie added cheese, diced onion, chopped tomato and olives to the mixture before folding it
with an expert hand. The aroma of melting cheese and eggs filled the tiny kitchen.
“Sure you won’t try some?” Meggie questioned again.
Jill hesitated, then nodded. “Maybe just a little.”
Pleased, Meggie brought down an extra plate and evenly divided the meal. Of her own initiative, Jill placed forks and two
short glasses on the table while Meggie got orange juice from the refrigerator. Jill had already taken her first bite when
Meggie sat down. She paused, bowed her head and murmured her own silent grace. The prayer was one of gratitude for the meal
she was about to eat, but there was also a short prayer for wisdom in being a friend to Jill.
When she glanced up, Jill had stopped eating and was staring at her. “What was that?”
“I was saying grace.”
“Grace?” Jill laughed sarcastically. “Don’t tell me you’re a Jesus freak too?”
“I’m a Christian, if that’s what you mean.”
Jill raised both eyebrows mockingly. “Oh?”
Determined not to let this child goad her, Meggie ignored the comment and began eating. She glanced out the window and noted
unhappily the change in the weather. Gray clouds were rolling in, darkening the sky.
“Damn, it looks like it’s going to rain after all. I’d better hurry if I want to finish my errands before the downpour.”
“Can I come with you?” Jill looked up expectantly.
Meggie was both pleased and surprised at the eagerness in the young girl’s face. “Of course, but I’m going to have to take
a shower before we go. I’m a mess.”
“That’s all right,” Jill agreed. “I need to put on my makeup first anyhow.”
Meggie stayed longer in the shower than usual. Some people would think it was ridiculous to pray with hot water pouring over
her, but Meggie was concerned about handling Jill.
There was a hurt in that child’s life that was impossible not to recognize. Just watching Jill brought an ache to Meggie’s
heart. Standing under the spray of the water, she called upon the promise of God’s word, seeking wisdom.
Toweling herself dry, Meggie dressed in brown cords and a light pink pullover sweater. Seeing how long she’d left Jill alone,
she hurried into the living room. One glance at the younger girl and Meggie had to restrain a shocked gasp.
Jill wore so much makeup that she looked like a gaudy vaudeville actress. A bright shade of blue eye shadow reached from the
tips of her lashes to the arch of her brow. The blush on her cheeks resembled bold circles of a circus clown. Her lips were
painted a brilliant shade of ruby red. The fragrance she was wearing was so overpowering it was difficult to breathe. Meggie
speculated that she must have used half the bottle.
She swallowed tightly. Should she say anything to Jill, she wondered. And if so, what could she say without offending her?
“I’m sorry I was so long,” she murmured. “I still need to put on my face. Want to talk to me while I do?” The words were out
even before Meggie was aware of what she was going to say.
Jill followed Meggie into the bathroom and sat on the toilet seat and watched as Meggie tugged a brush through the thick auburn
curls, tying them away from her face with a maroon-colored ribbon.
“My hair gets in the way. That’s why I tie it back, otherwise my bangs get eye shadow on them.”
One corner of Jill’s mouth lifted in a half-smile. “I know, mine’s the same way.”
First Meggie added a light layer of moisturizer to her face, gently rubbing it into the soft, pliant skin. She had to steady
her hand as she applied the liner and eye shadow. Who would have believed a thirteen-year-old could make her so nervous? When
her eyes were done to her satisfaction, she added blush, blending it into her skin in a circling outward motion.
“Why are you doing that?” Jill questioned, her round eyes keen with interest.
“This is the best way to keep the facial tissues in tone and prevent wrinkling. You don’t need to worry about that.”
“Not yet,” Jill laughed, but she continued to study Meggie’s every move.
Once Meggie caught a movement from the corner of her eye in the reflection of the mirror and noticed that Jill was imitating
the movements with her hands, as if practicing.
Meggie finished by applying a soft cherry-cream color stick to her lips, then added a touch of cologne to her pulse points
behind her ears and wrists.
“I’m done,” she announced.
“That’s all?” Jill looked amazed.
Meggie nodded.
“But you hardly put anything on,” she challenged. “I can barely tell you’re wearing makeup at all.”
“That’s the way it’s supposed to be,” Meggie explained. “Cosmetics are made to enhance a woman’s face, not overshadow and
dominate. If you look at the models’ pictures in magazines you’ll see what I mean. Here, I’ll show you.” Several publications
were sitting on the end table beside the couch and Meggie grabbed one and brought it in to Jill. She handed her the latest
issue of Vogue.
Jill flipped through the pages, stopping and examining the models and advertisement pictures.
“You’re right,” she acknowledged, barely above a whisper. “I’m wearing too much, aren’t I?”
Meggie nodded, almost afraid that if she agreed it would trigger a negative response from Jill.
“Will you show me how?” Jill asked shyly.
Meggie couldn’t have been more pleased. They removed all of the younger girl’s makeup and started fresh. She had prayed, asked
for God’s wisdom. Why was she so surprised when He answered?
“Meggie, catch!”
Meggie straightened from behind the refrigerator door just in time to capture a flying orange. “Watch it, kid, or I’ll toss
you a ripe tomato.”
Jill giggled, the sound of her laughter ringing through the small kitchen as she withdrew Meggie’s groceries from the bags.
“Where does this go?” She held up a roll of aluminum foil.
“Over there.” Meggie pointed to the middle drawer and watched as Jill placed the roll inside.
“It’s fun shopping with you.”
“I enjoyed having you along. We’ll do it again sometime.”
The deep blue eyes sparkled and Meggie mused at how pretty Jill was when she smiled. “I’d like that. Dad hardly shops, all
he eats is TV dinners. You wouldn’t believe his freezer, it’s jammed full of frozen boxes.”
“Why don’t you cook?” Meggie suggested, closing the refrigerator door and studying Jill.
The girl looked surprised. “I don’t know how,” she gestured helplessly. “Besides Hariette doesn’t like me fiddling in her
kitchen.”
“Hariette?”
“My grandmother. She likes me to call her by her first name.”