We were just going through the day as if nothing had happened? Britney sprayed the latest Chanel perfume into my face. What had I expected? If they were capable of dumping a body, then they were capable of pretending it never happened. I wanted to know if it bothered them at all. If they even cared.
“I want to look at those Gucci shoes I told you about yesterday. I just couldn’t stop thinking about them all night,” Britney said, motioning for us to follow her as if soldiers going into battle.
Gucci shoes? I wanted to scream. Was she kidding me? While I had thought of the dead homeless man all night, she had thought of Gucci shoes?
“What?” Britney asked when she realized I was staring at her.
I would say she was scowling at me, but with her recent visit for Botox injections, it was impossible to know for sure. They marched toward the shoes without another word. While distracted by a pair of Christian Louboutins, I managed to slip away from them. The beauty counter seemed like a good spot to disappear to while they tried on shoes. It would take them a while to catch up to me.
“Do you need something for those dark circles under your eyes?” the middle-aged dark-haired woman asked.
“Thanks for pointing that out,” I said.
She frowned. “Let me know if you need help.”
Thirty minutes later and the nasally voices sounded from somewhere nearby. Echoing like a foghorn and piercing through the thick haze over the choppy waters. I thought about hiding, but it was too late. As Sophie pointed me out the trio marched toward me like soldiers storming into battle.
“We’ve been looking for you. I even sent you a text.” Britney waved her pink incased iPhone like that was her evidence that she’d done it.
Why had I never noticed how her eyes seemed blank, yet could cut right through me at the same time?
I pulled out my phone. “Sorry, I guess I had the sound off.”
Britney eyed me for a moment and then said, “Are you buying lipstick?”
I placed the tube of Chanel back on the counter. “No.”
She picked it up. “This is a great color for me.”
The others started testing shades on the back of their hands. Hadn’t Britney bought that color last week? I couldn’t believe they were going to act as if nothing had happened yesterday. How long could I let this continue? I had to say something before I had a meltdown right there in the middle of the store.
“Are you just going to pretend nothing happened? That this hasn’t changed our lives forever?” I blurted out.
They continued perusing the lipsticks, trying basically the same shade of pink.
Britney flashed the back of her hand in front of my face. “What do you think of this color? Is it too dark?”
“Yes, it’s almost the color of blood.” I waved my hand in front of Britney’s face. “Hello? Did you hear what I said?”
She lowered the tube of lipstick. “I told you we were finished discussing it. Now shut up before you make me lose my temper.”
“I can’t do this anymore. I’m leaving.” I turned toward the doors.
Britney grabbed my arm. “You will do this, and you can do this.”
Sophie and Whitney stared at me. Obviously, they were on Britney’s side. Beneath their calm expressions I sensed an edge of fury. I’d thought they were my friends. Now I was being held in Neiman Marcus against my will. The store seemed smaller and brighter now. The music boomed in my ears. My heart sped up and dizziness took over. They’d successfully triggered a panic attack.
I yanked my arm away from Britney. “How are you going to make me do anything?”
“I’ll tell your husband how you really feel about him. All the money will be gone, and you’ll be back to Georgia living in the trailer park again.”
I froze. She was right. I wasn’t ready to give up the money. The last thing I wanted was to go back to my old life. Britney knew that too. The smile of satisfaction on her face made my stomach turn.
“Now if this nonsense is over we’ll go back to shopping. After that, we’ll grab a salad. I have something important I want to discuss.” Britney selected another lipstick from the display.
I guessed she didn’t want to chat about killing the homeless man. What else could it be? Which Chanel bag to buy next? For another hour I went through the motions of shopping, although I bought nothing. American Express would probably want to know if I was dead.
“You’re buying nothing?” Whitney eyed me up and down as she shifted shopping bags on her arms.
“Nothing,” I answered with a snap to my voice.
I was almost sure I’d heard Britney call me a bitch under her breath. Why bother whispering it? I knew how she felt now. Britney, Whitney, and Sophie weren’t happy with my lack of purchases. They could make me wander around with them, but they couldn’t make me pull out the Amex black card. Or could they? All Britney had to do was mention me being cut off from the money and I’d do anything she said. At least that was the way it appeared.
I never knew I would be so easily influenced. Being poor brought back painful memories though and I never wanted to experience that again. Buying beaten up boxes of mac-n-cheese from the scratch and dent food store for a nickel a piece had made me swear I’d never be in that position again. I’d made that dinner in a box with water and no butter, stirring up the orange colored powder until it faintly resembled cheese. After a while, my taste buds had grown numb to the stuff.
After exiting the store, we preceded to some bougie café around the corner. Britney, Whitney, and Sophie studied the menu board on the wall above the register as if they either couldn’t read or they hadn’t been here every week for over a year. Modern art with scribbled lines of every color in the rainbow decorated the walls. Jazz music floated faintly in the background making the diner wonder if the sound was real or only a figment of their imagination.
We placed orders for kale and quinoa salad. Did they think they’d order something different this time? A few people sat near the front, but Britney choice a table at the back of the restaurant by the restrooms, normally not the spot Britney would have chosen. She liked to see and be seen.
Sunlight streamed in through the large windows at the front of the café. Britney sat across from me. She looked flawless with her lip injections, micro-bladed eyebrows, and lash extensions. I’d seen photos of her before any of the procedures had taken place. She was beautiful before. The only reason any of us allowed our faces to be poked and plucked was because we thought it was expected. It was just another way to fit in.
Sophie sat next to Britney. Whitney tapped her French manicured fingernails against the table as she sat beside me. Sophie kept taking sips of her water. The nervous energy at the table would be evident even to a stranger. I shifted in my seat several times, wishing I was anywhere but here.
Britney pushed the kale around on her plate. “I guess you’re curious about what I want to discuss.”
At this point, I wasn’t sure I cared. I knew she’d soon tell me though. How much worse could it be than what she’d done yesterday? She probably wanted to talk about shopping.
When no one answered, Britney pointed at my plate. “Aren’t you going to eat? We all know how much you love food.”
Britney chortled, and the others followed in the laughter. She was just trying to be cruel. I’d accepted her snark before, but it seemed more vicious now.