Page 9 of Witchy Chick

I took a long shower then got out and went to bed on the couch and turned the TV on to cartoons too manic for my perfect darlings. Perfect husband. Perfect house. Perfect wife. So many lies. Lies were a burden I couldn’t carry anymore.

I pulled the throw over my head and slept with wet hair that would be a disaster when I got up.

I woke up when my phone buzzed. I blinked, fought my way to the surface of awareness, and fumbled around until I found it.

“Hello?” I asked, raspy. I’d definitely slept with a dead bird in my mouth.

“This is Principal Stokes. Mrs. Cooper, you need to come to school to pick up your daughter.”

That woke me all the way up. “Sage? Is she sick?”

“She got in a fight. She smashed a garbage can over someone’s head.”

I gripped my phone, and my stomach roiled. I took a break from being a responsible adult for less than a day and this happened? I swallowed and cleared my throat. “Of course. I’ll be right there.”

“I called your husband, but I wasn’t able to get through.”

“He’s in a meeting,” I said automatically. My husband was always in a meeting if I tried calling and he didn’t answer. I’d gotten out of the habit of calling off schedule so I wouldn’t have to hear the recording. Sure. He was in a ‘meeting’ with someone. I felt nauseous again. “But I’ll be there.” I’d need to get my car first. Which was on the other side of town.

His voice was short. “Good. She’ll be in the office until you do.”

“Thank you. I’m so sorry. I’ll be quick, but I’m across town so it will be a few minutes.”

“I understand. See you soon.” He hung up on me.

I found a well-ranked driver’s app and asked for a pickup. Hopefully I got a different driver who didn’t remember me almost throwing up in her back seat. And hopefully no one had seen me with the bird. I must’ve propped it up on my hand before I passed out. Creepy. I made it a point not to be creepy as an adult. When I was little, it had seemed normal to have a fascination with dead things…but no. I didn’t need to revert to the person I’d been as a kid. I was respectable. Appropriate. Pulled-together.

I went to the kitchen and ate cold pizza while I tried not to notice the pulse beating behind my eyes. Hungover. Of course I was. Honestly, the cold pizza tasted ridiculously good. I ate like I hadn’t eaten in days, and when I was finished, the beeping horn alerted me to the car being there. I hadn’t noticed my messages.

She dropped me in front of the barber’s shop, and by the time I climbed into my immaculate SUV, I felt almost like I was in control. I drove to the school, found a parking space in the visitor’s parking, then smoothed down my navy pantsuit, adjusted my purse, and walked into the school.

The secretary was on the phone when I got to the office. She smiled, blinked, and pointed at the beige chair where I should wait. I sat down next to Jenna Mack, a redhead whose daughter had played soccer with mine in third grade. On her other side was a pale woman with dyed black hair, a cheap dye job, who looked too young to have a child in high school.

“Hi, Jenna. How’s Milly? I hope she’s not sick,” I said, giving the redhead the appropriate amount of sympathy and concern.

She blinked at me. “Oh. I almost didn’t recognize you, Mary. It’s a good look. Very natural. No, Milly’s fine, I’m just taking her to the dentist.” She faced forward, obligatory conversation finished.

What natural look? I pulled out my compact and stared at my reflection in absolute horror. No makeup. How had I forgotten makeup? I’d dressed perfectly from my navy pantsuit to nude pump, but nude face? You could have the no-makeup look, but actually having no makeup to cover up the lines and dark circles? I had such dark circles. And my hair. At least it had a textured wave that looked like it might be intentional.

I hadn’t gone out in public without a full face in as long as I could remember. What was wrong with me? Oh, right. My life was broken. My heart shattered, my mind clearly not far behind.

I sighed heavily then gave her a sad smile. “I know. It’s terrible, but Sage wants to wear more makeup than I like, and she said I was a hypocrite, not letting her wear makeup when I wear so much. So here I am.” See? We could all lie together. In a cemetery.

“That’s amazing. You’re such a good example of someone who practices what they preach. You have high standards, but you hold yourself to that same level.” She nodded like that was a good thing.

Did I hold Clark to such a high standard that he couldn’t live up to it and so he’d decided not to try? Just lie?

“I sell natural products,” the sallow girl with the bad dye job said, leaning forward to give me a smile that was a little too bright, a little too friendly. “Healthy for your skin and for the earth. Do you want a card?” She held out a white piece of paper across Jenn, and I took it, not wanting to be rude.

“Thanks.” I offered her a cool smile.

She beamed back at me like I’d been genuinely grateful. “I have a whole sample kit with me. Do you want me to fix you up right now?”

I looked at Jenna, who gave me a slight shrug. I checked out my reflection, and yes, I did look like death warmed over. I didn’t like to accept help from a complete stranger, but she seemed eager, and I looked desperate.

“I guess I could buy your makeup samples.”

“No way. You can buy anything you like, but samples are free. That’s why they’re called samples.” She laughed like that was so funny then switched chairs to sit next to me. She opened her enormous bag, pulled brushes and jars out, and started dabbing under my eyes.