Okay, it wasn’t actually Whoopie, but she looked enough like her that we fully expected Robin Williams to come walking in the door next. In any case, whoever she was, she certainly was not pleased with the ruckus she perceived that we were making. “Why are all of you screaming like you don’t have any sense? I’m trying to teach these boys over here how to pull up their pants and they can’t hear me with all the hollerin’.”
Dr. Brian smiled benignly at the intruder. “Valene, I’m sure it wasn’t that loud. After all, nothing can top the barnyard noises we can all hear when you have a group session with those unfortunate people who think they are cows. I’ve never complained about THAT, even when you are doing the ‘stampede’ therapy. Besides, we were just about to have a breakthrough in my session. It’s understandable if there is screaming. Nothing gets resolved without yelling and tears.”
Valene suddenly seemed intrigued. “Really? What session is this?”
Dr. Brian puffed his chest out proudly. “These are the Clampitt children. I am conducting impromptu emergency psychotherapy in order to possibly save them from eternal neurotica. Aren’t they cute? Especially the one with the stick.” He winked at Little Sahara, who waved Jenna in the air in a manner that completely irritated me.
9. Lip Gloss can help you make friends.
Valene gasped. “The Clampitt children? You lucky son of a gun. I’ve read all about them in the local medical journals, like Missouri Madness and Kirksville After Dark. Is the mother here, too?”
Dr. Brian allowed a look of sadness to pass over his face, acting heart-broken even though he had only known us for thirty minutes. “I’m afraid it’s too late for her. The damage is irreversible. The only thing we can do is ensure that the medication never stops.”
Valene sighed. “I knew it was coming to that. Poor dysfunctional thing, all those years trying to manage destructive children who have no boundaries, concept of reality, or understanding of the metric system.” Then she perked up again. “Which one is Patient X?”
Mellie Jo made an exasperated noise. “We have actual NAMES, you trollop. Can you leave now so I can finish explaining why my sisters should be removed from society and locked in some place dark? I’m really getting tired of waiting for that to happen, and I need to expedite.”
Valene studied Mellie Jo closely. “So YOU must be Patient Y. I can already sense the tendency toward violence and the disregard for societal regulations. How exciting! Tell me, that time when you mailed Little Sahara to Alaska, did you really intend for-”
Dr. Brian cut her off. “Valene! We are supposed to be professionals here. My patients and our discourse are entirely private matters, especially since you haven’t slipped my usual fee under the table.”
Valene studied Dr. Brian for a moment, then reached down and opened a leather bag that I hadn’t noticed before, probably because it wasn’t mine and therefore promised little interest. But hey, that purse was very stylish and made a nice statement. Perhaps we would need to speak privately after all this mess was over, exchanging fashion tips and learning how to be even more captivating.
Valene finally retrieved a ten-dollar bill from the rattling depths of her leather accessory, then marched over to Dr. Brian’s desk and slapped the money on his blotter. “There. For five minutes you can pretend like I’m not here, just like my husband does for free.”
Then she marched back toward out little group, allowing her exquisite clutch to lead the way without detracting from her statuesque beauty that followed. This amazing woman was really getting my attention, possibly to the point of slight obsession. Which was a new sensation for me, since usually I’m the object of my own affection.
Valene increased my infatuation when she bypassed my horrid sisters and squatted down in front of me, taking one of my manicured hands into her own. “How could I have had any doubt that YOU must be Patient X? You have the most luxurious naturally curly hair that I have ever seen.”
That was it. I loved her. Deeply.
Mellie Jo was not impressed. “Well, I think her hair is ugly, even if she does brush it for three hours every night while she sings songs to herself about flowers. The dogs sure don’t like it, because they bark every time she walks by a window, and Janie Dilson said people in the seventh grade shouldn’t color their hair and-”
There was a sudden whistling sound as Jenna the Stick swung through the air, smacking Mellie Jo in the forehead and sending her toppling off the back of her chair. Mellie lay there for a moment, making sure she wasn’t bleeding or dead, then shared her thoughts without getting up. “I can’t stand you, Little Sahara. One of these days I won’t be able to stop myself and I swear I’m gonna-”
Little Sahara leaped to her feet, towering over the sprawled form of Mellie Jo and shoving Jenna in her face. “Talk to the STICK!”
This was boring me. I didn’t care if they killed each other. More apple juice for me. I gently turned Valene’s head back in my direction. “Was there anything else that you wanted to compliment? I have lots of things to admire. In fact, I have some brochures back in my room.”
Valene smiled. “You are just the cutest thing. I think I need you for my next group session. It starts in twenty minutes. Want to go?”
Possibly, if it meant continued attention of any kind. “What are you going to talk about?”
Valene’s grip on my hand tightened in a pleasant rather than serial-killer manner. “It’s my CA group. Cosmetics Anonymous. We talk about what makeup means in our lives.”
I think I had my very first orgasm right then. “That sounds wonderful. Can we go now?”
Dr. Brian cleared his throat. “Valene, this is MY patient. You can’t just whisk her away to one of your pathetic, self-involved gatherings of spoiled children.”
Valene glared at him. “You can certainly LOAN her out for a few minutes.”
“She’s not a book in a library, Valene.”
“I can be loaned,” I interjected. I’d rather be worshipped, but loaning is good. “I don’t mind.”
Valene smiled lovingly at me. “Of course you don’t mind. You are the sweetest thing ever. Now, we’ll just need you to sign a few waivers. And I’ll need to speak with your agent, if you have one.”
Agent? What talk was this? “I’m not sure. I would KNOW if I had an agent, right?”
“Yes, you would. They are people who call you and tell you where to go be pretty.”
My confusion cleared. “Then I must not have one. I don’t need anybody to tell me that.”
She grinned. “Okay, then. Let’s get started.” She stood, still clutching my hand as I delicately arose from my throne, and then we traipsed toward the door.
Mellie Jo, still lying on the floor and fiddling with a dust bunny, called out. “Are you going to keep her forever? Because I would really like that.”
Valene smile mysteriously. “Well, we’ll just see how it goes.”
My heart leaping with excitement, we exited the counseling room.
10. Lip Gloss can help you find your way home.
Once we were in the hall, Valene began babbling excitedly about the fun we were going to have, and how things worked in her sessions. I was going to be assigned First Chair, which is normally where the most troubled people sit, but it also was the only chair that could be seen from everywhere in the room, and that was more important. Valene wanted me to give a speech about myself, so I loved her even more.
Then I suddenly came to a halt. “But what am I going to wear? I don’t have any of my wardrobe with me.”
Valene waved her hand in dismissal. “You look beautiful just the way you are. And the embroidery on your hemline is beyond words.”
“Yes, I know that, my glow is eternal. But shouldn’t I wear something special for my debut?”
Valene pondered this, then nodded. “You’re right. But we’ve only got a few minutes…” She glanced up and down the hallway, then came to a decision. “Follow me.” She scurried toward a wing of the building that I hadn’t noticed before. The flooring changed to Italian marble, and there was gold leaf on the water fountain. I immediately wanted to live here.
“This is where we keep the rich clients,” whispered Valene. “They have more money than they know what to do with, which is probably why they’re crazy. I mean, why they need special attention. I think this room will work.”
She stopped in front of a hand-carved wooden door with an ornate pewter knob. The name “Mrs. Rustworth” was etched into the detailed surface. Valene slowly pushed the door open, peeked inside for a moment, then shoved the thing all the way open.
My mouth dropped.
The enormous room was crammed with racks and racks of exquisite couture. On the far wall was a massive vanity counter that could probably seat twelve, loaded down with jars and vials and tubs of makeup. I trembled with passion at this stunning sight.
Yet I hesitated. “But where is Mrs. Rustworth?”
Valene waved her hand again. “She’s in hydro-therapy right now. Which, given her condition, means she’s sitting on the edge of the pool, dangling her legs in the water while Vivaldi plays and someone serves her cucumber sandwiches. Now hurry, pick something out, we only have five minutes.”
They were the most divine five minutes of my life up to that point. It was a blur of lust, fabric, and lip liner. THIS was how people really lived. I wanted Mrs. Rustworth to adopt me. Even if she was crazy and couldn’t swim. I wonder if one of those “agent” guys could arrange that for you? I might need to get one after all.
Sadly, the clock was ticking. I eventually made a selection, reapplied, and shot back out the door. I grabbed Valene’s hand. “This is what my life is supposed to be like. I’ve been doing something wrong until now. You’ve got to help me.”
Valene adjusted my feather boa just a slight bit. “We can change your life later. Right now we’ve got to get to the meeting.” And off we went, racing down hallways and around corners, finally arriving at a conference room, with a placard outside where some calligraphy person had scrawled “Welcome to Cosmetics Anonymous! Let’s Glitter Together!” We slipped inside.
The place was filled girls and women of all ages. They had all tried very hard to make themselves beautiful, but I was prettier than any of them and instantly knew that I had the power in this room. I relaxed, taking my royal seat with grace and charitable respect for their lesser beauty. Valene welcomed everyone, discussed a few administrative items, and then introduced me.
As I stood, I waved at them in the Queen Elizabeth manner that I had mastered many years ago. Instantly, they all returned the exact same wave, and I liked them a little more. I scanned the crowd, noting one woman with lip gloss that actually changed color with her moods, and another woman sporting a t-shirt which read “Bonne Bell Lip Smackers 4 Ever”. They were very excited that I was here. I smiled happily. These were my people.
I finally knew what I wanted to do with my life. I wanted to be rich and live in a fancy hospital where people wanted to hear me talk about myself all day long. And I could change outfits every twenty minutes.
I approached the podium and began to tell my story.
“Once upon a time, I had a Charlie’s Angels Christmas stocking…”
The End
