Between Octobers

October 7th

October 7th

Santa Monica was beautiful in the fall. The sky overhead was clear and blue, despite the biting cold that drifted in from the ocean. As I sat on the frigid patio chair, wrapped tightly in my robe, I could see through the slats of the wooden fence into the field behind the house. The hillside was covered in a blanket of purple blooming weeds. I finished my coffee and headed back inside for my morning run.

I was motivated. Begging for real change. It felt like a red letter day, as Mom used to say.

When my heart rate hit the target range, I let my mind go blank and ran to the rhythm of my music. Fifteen minutes in, inspiration struck. I hopped off the treadmill and into my Jeep, heading for the pharmacy down the road.

When I returned, the house was still silent. I looked in on the boys before setting up in the master bathroom. After yanking on a pair of latex gloves, I started mixing. My naturally blond hair wasn’t a pretty gold or bright yellow, it was the dirty-looking, dishwater tone. I always hated it and Sol didn’t. But he wasn’t here anymore. He’d died and left me all alone. I had to start over. I brushed out my hair and began applying the dark goo. When my head was thoroughly saturated, I used an old mascara brush to add a coat to my eyebrows. 

The day slipped away. I kept busy washing, scrubbing, and in most places disinfecting, the entire house. After, I finished the grocery shopping and made chicken parmesan for an early dinner. The kids noticed my dark red locks as soon as they got up, but hadn’t said much about the dramatic change. I’m not sure if they liked it.   

True to form, Lily showed up an hour early to dress me. She was decked in a tight, coral mini dress that beautifully accentuated her caramel skin. She’d straightened the natural curls from her hair. It was hanging silkily down her back. Her makeup was flawless as always—smoky eyes and nearly nude lips. The most envious part, aside from her effortless hourglass shape, was her thigh-high boots.

I complimented them, leaning against the door frame, pathetically posing, begging her to say something about my hair.

She gasped, “It looks so good!”

“You think so?” I loved the new color, but knowing Lily approved made me love it even more. 

She rushed in, quickly kissing the boys hello on her way to the master closet. I sat at my vanity, watching as she combed through the racks for at least twenty minutes, searching for the perfect outfit.

“What do you think of this?” She held a very short red dress.

“I could wear some slacks and a cute top,” I pleaded. “I don’t like that shade of red. It makes me look green.” 

“Your hair is red.”

“It’s burgundy.”

“Maybe you’re right. Overkill . . . hmm . . . Where’s your LBD?”

“My what?” I ask, picking at my chipped nail polish.

 “Little Black Dress. You have one, don’t you?”

“I have black dresses. I never gave any a title, though. Check in the back corner.” I pointed in the general direction, suppressing a yawn and wondering how many I’d have to try on before she decided.

“I don’t see any.” She grunted, pushing and pressing between bulges. “You need to move more stuff over. This is ridiculous.” Murmuring a complaint, she lifted several hangers full of dresses and sweaters, too heavy for Southern California, and shifted them to the scantily clad opposite side of my closet. 

“There.” She sighed the word, exaggerating a wipe of imaginary sweat from her brow.

“There’s one, right there.” I pointed behind her at the newly placed collection of hangers.