"Asher!" His shouted name was accompanied by frenzied knocking on his bedroom door.
Asher scowled from where he sat at his desk. His sister needed something. Again. He hauled himself up from his chair with a groan, and crossed the room.
On the other side of the door, his sister Chava stood. Her right arm was wrapped in plaster, folded against her body. The usual conservative clothes she preferred were replaced with a modest gown in light blue. Her dark hair was curled meticulously, pinned up elegantly and falling just over her shoulders. And she was crying.
"What's going on, Chava?" Asher prodded in confusion.
She let out a shaky breath, holding back an onslaught of tears. "I can't get my makeup right." She held out a makeup brush in her left hand, bottom lip quivering.
He groaned, glancing over his shoulder at the stack of papers on his desk. His final paper was due in the morning, and there was still a lot of work to be done. With a resigned sigh, he nodded to her. "How can I help?"
Her face cracked into a wide smile, her eyes lighting up immediately. She threw her arms around his torso, squeezing as hard as her thin frame could manage. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She grabbed his wrist and dragged him into her room, nearly pulling him off his feet in the process.
Chava's room was slightly smaller than his, which meant it barely had room for her bed, a desk, and a dresser. The desk had a mirror mounted behind it, just big enough to get a look at both siblings. She sat down in the rolling chair in front of the desk, fixing the delicate curls on her shoulders with her available hand. Asher watched her examine her reflection. She sighed, and it broke his heart.
Asher followed her across the room and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "What can I do, Chava?"
She snatched a few products off the counter and shoved them into Asher's hands. "You have to do my makeup for me."
Asher paled as he took the cosmetics from her. Their mother didn't wear makeup, so she would be no help. He was hardly the natural choice either, but he understood why she came to him.
Asher was three when Chava was born. One of the first memories he could recall was the day she came home. He told their mother that she looked like one of the California Raisins, but he had never loved a little raisin more. It had never been a decision he made, not an active thought, but he knew from that day that he would do anything to keep her safe and happy. And it seemed that involved doing her makeup.
With a heaving and dramatic sigh, he nodded. "Alright, what's first?"
Chava was a poor teacher. She barely knew how to do makeup for herself, let alone how to explain the process to her ungainly brother. His hands were too big and indelicate for such a finessed process. But after nearly an hour of effort, the final effect was finally starting to take shape.
"So, you gonna ask anyone special to dance?" Asher smirked at her as he brushed the shimmery blue powder over her eyelids.
Chava's cheeks flushed a dark red under the light pink blush. She laughed nervously. "I don't think I'll be dancing with anyone. It just doesn't feel... appropriate."
Asher's hand paused for just a moment. He knew what she was referring to. Chava took to religion like a fish to water. He felt bad often, mostly for his parents. They tried so hard to steer their children in the right direction, and most days it felt like Chava was the only one who listened. She was a good student, an active participant at temple, and a respectful child. Asher was none of these.
Asher flicked the brush experimentally, pulling the eyeshadow to the corner of her eye. "You're a good kid, Chaveleh." His brows pinched together in focus as he swapped the brush for a mascara wand. His free hand adjusted the angle of her face by grabbing her chin while he brushed the product gently through her long eyelashes.
Chava frowned. "You're good too, Asher."
Asher bit back the retort that sprang to his lips immediately. Normally he would snap back at her, but tonight was her night. She only got one sophomore dance, and he wouldn't be the one to ruin it. "Thanks," he mumbled.
He closed the pink and green tube, and set it back on the desk. Leaning left and right, checking her makeup from different angles, he grinned at his sister. "I think we're done, Little Raisin."
Chava spun in the chair to look in the mirror for the first time since they began. She gasped softly, bringing a hand up to her cheek. "Asher, you did amazing!"
Truthfully, it was mediocre at best. Asher was hardly practiced with makeup, and it showed. But Chava was too kind, too fond of her brother to let him think he did anything less than perfect. Asher knew the truth, but she didn't need to know that. He stood and held out an arm to her, bent at the elbow. "Come on, kid. Let's go show Ma."
