Bridesmaid Lotto (11 page)

“Sure. Fine. But Jake Hall? What do I have to offer Jake Hall?”

“Well, your magnificent breasts for one,” he said.

I gave him a little punch on the shoulder.

“You think I’m joking, but I’m not,” he said with a wink.

“Well, I do hope I can bring something to the table other than my magnificent breasts.”

“Ah, you won’t need to. The breasts will do the trick.”

“Yeah, okay, okay, let’s get serious. What kind of fabulous jacket are you going to find for me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we should hit a couple thrift stores.”

“Ew. Second hand?”

He sighed. “It’s all been cleaned. And it’s just a jacket.”

“Fine.”

Mattie pulled on my arm nearly the whole way to his favorite thrift shop a couple of blocks away. “Come. You’ll see.”

Inside the little shop it was bright and cheery, not at all what I had been expecting for a second hand store.

“Holy,” I said, amazed by the sheer size of the store. And then by the amount of clothes they had.

“Over here,” Mattie called, apparently on his way to the jackets.

He quickly flipped through the racks, whipping hanger after hanger past until he finally found something he liked.

“Ah ha! I knew we’d find something,” he said.

He had to wiggle it to get it untangled from the rest of the jackets stuffed on the rack, but pulled out a very regal, almost formal looking deep purple fitted velvet blazer. It looked like it should have been worn with a white blouse with a tall lace collar and a broach at the neck.

“But my busier is red,” I reminded him.

“Exactly. It’s all going to be very jewel-tone and fantastically unmatched!”

“Okay?” I said, but I wasn’t quite as convinced as he apparently was.

“It’s all in how it fits,” he said and shoved the jacket at me.

I pulled it over my T-shirt right there, not feeling the need for a change room.

It fit snugly, but had a little stretch to it and was still comfortable.

“Perfect!” Mattie said and clapped his hands together. “Oh, you are going to look so good.”

He started looking around the rest of the store. “I just want to check something,” he said.

I rolled my eyes. We were running out of valuable shopping time.

“Yes!”

He had grabbed a pair of old worn out army type boots.

“Are you sure those are in style?” I asked.

“No, they’re totally not. That’s why they’re so perfect.”

“Oh, so I’m going to be the completely not in style date of Jake Hall? Fantastic.”

“Have a little faith my dear,” he said. “You are going to be an eclectic Goddess.”

I snorted.

He pushed me towards the till. I was pleasantly surprised at the price and happily paid for the jacket and boots right out of my checking account.

“Wow, that is certainly one perk about the thrift shop thing,” I said to Mattie.

He nodded with his eyebrows raised. He looked like he was about to say ‘yeah, duh’ but he kept on his mission.

“Jeans time,” he said. “And we can’t skimp on these. If you’re wearing second hand items you must, must, must put it together with something fabulous and outrageously expensive.”

“Oh great. So much for my savings account.”

“I thought we had already established that you don’t need it anymore,” Mattie said.

“Well, I need some of it! I will have to have savings at some point in my life.”

“Fine, we won’t go too overboard,” he said with a huff.

We found some great dark skinny jeans that fit amazingly well in the first store we went to.

“Thank God,” I said, so sick of shopping. And spending.

“Amateur,” Mattie said. “Just wait ‘til tomorrow, you’ll be able to rejuvenate at the spa. You’ll be a brand new woman by the time they are done with you.”

“And you’re done with me.”

“Well, obviously,” he said.

I headed back to my apartment alone. Mattie promised he would ‘be there with bells on’ tomorrow for my new do, and the pulling together of the outfit.

When I got home, Calla pulled everything out of my shopping bags. She raised an eyebrow when she saw the boots.

“These are pretty,” she said sarcastically.

“I know, right. I thought I was the only one who thought they were old and ugly. Mattie seems to adore them.”

“Really? What’s to like?”

I shrugged. “Well, he hasn’t steered me wrong yet,” I said. “I guess we’ll see how they look when the outfit’s all put together. If they’re horrible, I can always just wear the black boots I wear all the time.”

“Yeah. If Mattie well let you leave the apartment in them that is,” she said.

# # #

I went straight to the spa when I woke up Saturday morning. I didn’t even bother doing my hair or make up. What was the point? I was getting a facial and Mattie was doing my hair later. I pretty much just brushed my teeth and walked out the door. I put on a cap and huge sunglasses, just in case the paparazzi had taken to staking out my apartment.

Luckily, no one looked suspicious.

Le Look was the spa that Mattie absolutely swore by. He said that they give the best massages and bikini waxing was the best in the city. I didn’t bother asking him why he knew. I didn’t think men got bikini waxes, though Mattie was definitely not your average male.

The first hour was not the calm experience I had been anticipating. I was being poked, prodded, squeezed, tweezed, and waxed. Nothing about it was relaxing or rejuvenating at all. But when they finally got to the part where I got to lie down with soft music and a warm mud wrap around me, things started to look up. They finished off my day long treatments with an hour-long relaxation massage and a mani-pedi.

I had never felt so amazing in my life.

At the apartment, Calla had let Mattie in and he’d already gotten the outfit laid out exactly as he wanted me to wear it. It was set out like someone had worn it and then just melted away, leaving only the clothes.

“Oh my gosh Josie,” Calla said as I walked back out of my bedroom. “Wait until you see what Mattie has done to the boots. They look awesome!”

“Really?” I said, scrunching my nose.

Mattie came out from the kitchen in his usual flamboyant way. “Ta da!” he yelled.

I actually gasped. They were like the ruby slippers of the biker world. Mattie had gone over all the scuffs and cracks in the leather with a bright red shoe polish. The end result was still a worn, crackled look, but now the rough spots were dark red and the black parts had been polished to look perfectly distressed. They totally looked custom made, just for me, which I guess they kind of were.

“You like?” Mattie asked.

“They’re fantastic Mattie! You are a genius.”

“I’ve been trying to tell you this for years.” He smoothed his hair back. “Finally, the recognition I deserve,” he said and flung his head back dramatically.

“You are going to look even better than Jake,” Calla said.

“Now hold the phone there missy,” Mattie said. “Let’s not get crazy here. You will definitely look like you belong with him though.”

Calla gave him a little swat.

“Now, off with your hat. It’s magic time,” Mattie practically sung.

I went to my room to change into a button up shirt. I didn’t want to risk pulling something over my head after Mattie was done with me.

Calla rinsed my hair in the sink and Mattie frantically stirred some sort of dye concoction.

“Now rip that into pieces,” he instructed pointing to a roll of tin foil. Calla and I got to work.

He finally finished mixing three different colors, and yanked my head into the spot that he wanted it.

“Ouch.”

“Oh shush, I already told you, it will all be worth it.”

“It better be. He better fall madly in love with me and whisk me off to some secluded island where we can have sex for days on end.”

“You do live in quite a little dream world there, don’t you?” Mattie said, shaking his head.

“Whatever gets me through this torture,” I said.

“Well in that case, dream on girl, dream on.”

Calla started giggling while Mattie and I were having our little tiff. “You guys are priceless. I can’t imagine why neither of you has a boyfriend.”

I turned to glare at her, assuming Mattie would be doing the same. But a second later he reefed my head back to the position it was in before and kept brushing on the glop that was supposed to make me gorgeous.

“As if you should talk,” I said.

Calla just kept giggling and went to the kitchen.

A few minutes later, I could hear the whirr of the blender through the closed door.

She came out carrying a tray and yelled “Makeover Margaritas!”

“Oh my God, you totally read my mind,” Mattie said.

“Am I allowed to drink while you’re doing this?” I asked, afraid to move my head again.

“Of course,” he said, “as long as you don’t move.”

I grabbed a glass off the tray. “These aren’t too strong are they? I don’t want to be drunk for my date tonight.”

“No, they’re just baby margaritas,” she said.

But I thought I saw her wink at Mattie. Maybe a drink or two wouldn’t be such a bad thing though. God knows I was completely nervous. Maybe I could do with a little liquid courage before Jake Hall arrived.

“Is it weird that I still call him by his full name? I mean I am going out on a date with him.”

“Yeah, you probably shouldn’t call him Jake Hall to his face,” Calla said.

“Oh man, I just know I’m going to do something stupid, like call him sir or something.”

Mattie snorted. “I can just see it now. Would you like to kiss me goodnight, sir?”

Calla and I started laughing. “Well, I see you’ve found your sense of humor again, oh royal stylist.”

“Oh quit,” he said. “I had to be serious. I have to concentrate to do such brilliant work you know.”

“Thank you Mattie. You are the King of everything.”

He began to smile.

“Or should I say queen?”

Calla burst out laughing, nearly getting margarita all over me. Mattie did not find it quite as amusing.

“Very funny. I may be gay, but I am no queen. I am very down to earth.”

“Oh yes, very,” I said. “You’re not at all flamboyant or dramatic.”

Calla was pretty much uncontrollable now. The margarita splashing around in her glass was dangerously close to going overboard.

“Watch out girl,” Mattie said, forgetting that we had been making fun of him. “Good God, you can’t just go around spilling perfectly good alcohol!”

“Nope,” I said, giggling. “You’re not dramatic at all.”

“Oh shut up,” Mattie said.

I looked at Calla and sent her diving into the kitchen. I assume so that she could spit out her mouthful of margarita.

“Good Lord, it’s like you’ve each already had five of these,” Mattie said, sipping his margarita. “Mmmm. Makeover Margaritas. It’ll almost be worth giving Calla a makeover just to get more of these.”

I was still giggling, and trying my best not to move.

“There,” Mattie said, folding the last foil over. “Done.”

“Now what?” I asked.

“Now, obviously we wait. And of course we drink.”

“Yup, this is the life. A spa, a makeover, and liquor. Who could ask for anything more?” I said.

“You know, this could be just the start of a charmed life for you,” Calla said, catching the tail end of our conversation.

We sipped our margaritas in relative silence for the next several minutes. I couldn’t stop thinking about miracles. What a miracle it was that I was even in this contest, let alone about to head out on a date with Jake Hall. I mean, I hadn’t even cared enough to enter the damned lotto. Maybe I didn’t deserve this.

Then again, maybe it was fate. I mean it was a four in a hundred thousand chance.

The timer dinged. Mattie stood up and clapped, signaling me to get a move on.

“Glass down Josie, time for the fun part.”

He rinsed out my hair and got to work with the scissors. The way his hands flew so fast reminded me of Edward Scissorhands. I had to admit, he was freaking me out a little. Both by the shear speed that he was chopping into my hair with, and the danger of the scissors themselves. They were so pointy. I closed my eyes for most of the haircut, just to make sure I wouldn’t lose one.

But when he was finished, the results, like he said, were well worth all the pain and horror. I didn’t really understand the whole process of the three colors and the highlights and the lowlights that Mattie had been going on and on about, but whatever it meant, it was beautiful. He definitely knew what he was doing.

It looked so good that we decided to forego the hat we’d bought at the accessory shop.