The Invisible Woman

Chapter 1

MY NAME IS ELINOR GILBERT. And I am the Invisible Woman.

No, not the kind that can make a deck of cards look like it’s shuffling itself.

The other kind.

Two years at the same dry cleaner, and he still asks my name when I drop something off.

Five years at the same drugstore, and I doubt the pharmacist could pick me out of a lineup.

My kind of invisible isn’t fantasy or science fiction. It’s real. It happens slowly, over time. And you won’t even know it’s happening.

Then one day you’re in line at Whole Foods, feeling good about yourself and your healthy life choices—a cart full of plant-based ground meat, oat milk, fat-free yogurt, and organic broccoli (and deftly hidden under all that, a chocolate fudge cake that serves four)—when some guy scoots in front of you.

So you say, very nicely, “Excuse me. I think I was next.”

And the jerk says, “Oh, sorry, lady. I didn’t even see you.”

Say what?

That’s when you start to notice how things have changed.

Those annoying wolf whistles from construction workers that you found so demeaning at the time? Gone.

Those makeup ladies in Bloomingdale’s who tried to spritz you with the latest Eau de Something New and Fabulous? History.

Sure, those nice-looking guys on the bus are still there. And they still try to catch your eye. But now, it’s to offer you their seat.

Somehow, when I wasn’t looking, I seem to have passed my sell-by date. And there’s nothing I can do about it.

Well, except for that chocolate fudge cake.