Time (Laws of Physics #3)(19)

Stepping completely inside, Lisa’s stare moved over me, as though I were somehow different, or she was searching for visible bruises. She then bent down to open the cabinet beneath the sink and extracted a black rectangular bag.

“Sit down,” she said, motioning to the closed toilet lid and unfastening the gold-toned zipper of the bag.

“Where’s Gabby?” I asked once I was seated.

“She left.”

I nodded faintly, watching as she pulled a brush from the black case. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to do your makeup.”

“Why?”

“Because you don’t want to cry.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “And makeup will stop me from crying?”

“It’s a great deterrent. If you have makeup on, crying will ruin it. It’s helped me keep my shit together.” She lowered her eyes, took a deep breath, and finally finished, “It’s helped me a few times.”

I stared at my typically prickly sister, sensing that she considered this statement a secret, a valuable weapon that might be used against her. It was a window—albeit, a closed window—into a softer, gentler core than she showed the world.

Nodding, I uncrossed my arms and said, “Okay.”

Lisa’s gaze cut back to mine, her eyebrows jumping. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Are you serious right now?”

“Yes.”

“You’re actually okay with me doing your makeup?”

“Sure.” I shrugged, admitting the truth, “It actually sounds fun.” Compared to talking about the incident, everything sounded fun. Even a colonoscopy. Even a mammogram. Even a root canal. Even all three occurring at the same time.

“Who are you and what did you do with my sister?” Lisa gave me a smile I suspected was supposed to be teasing.

“I wear makeup.”

“But you don’t wear it often.” She shifted her attention to the contents of the bag. “And you don’t wear much.”

“True. But that’s only because it’s not high on my list of priorities. Like, eating zucchini isn’t high on my priority list, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy a good stuffed zucchini every once in a while.”

“Are you pulling my leg?” She scrunched one of her eyes, making a face. “I thought you hated makeup.”

“No. I didn’t—okay, I don’t. I never hated it, but—admittedly—I used to judge people who wore a lot of it all the time as being superfluous. Now I don’t.”

“Why not? Here, close your eyes.” She approached me holding a brush she’d dabbed in eyeshadow. “What changed?”

“I guess.” I did as instructed and closed my eyes, feeling the gentle swiping over my closed lid. “I guess it happened when I was pretending to be you. I had to wear eye makeup, and then I began looking up tutorials because I wanted to make sure I was doing it right. And then I found I actually liked it.”

“And yet you still don’t wear makeup.”

“It’s an expensive habit.”

She snorted. “Yes. Very.”

“Plus,” I debated whether or not to continue. Ultimately, I decided on honesty. It had served me well recently and I fully committed to it. “If you want to know the truth, there have been a few times where I get one eye done and then I get distracted, forget, and show up to work with makeup on just one eye.”

“No, you don’t.” I heard the smile in Lisa’s voice as she switched to my other lid.

“I do. At least four times that I know about.”

“Oh my God, Mona! You crack me up!” The eyeshadow brush stopped moving, so I opened my eyes, watching my sister hold her stomach as she laughed. “You are so cute sometimes, I can’t stand it.”

I felt a smile tug at my lips. “And the worst part is, no one says anything to me except my friend Poe. Everyone just lets me walk around with one eye done. It’s infuriating.”

“Maybe they think you’re making a fashion statement?” She dabbed at the corners of her eyes with the back of her hand, sniffling.

“No. They’re just cowards.”

“Ha! Cowards. I love it.”

“Think about it. If you see someone with spinach in their teeth, you tell them. If you see someone with yogurt on their face, you tell them. If you see a person with eye makeup just on one eye, you tell them.”

“See, now, I would tell someone if they had yogurt or spinach, but not the eye makeup. I would assume it was purposeful and move on.”

“Coward.”

“No.” She grinned at me. “Not a coward. Shut your eyes again so I can finish the other side.”

I did, and she continued thoughtfully, “I’m giving people the space to be themselves. When is the last time you asked someone about their makeup? I mean, if you noticed something strange.”

“I’ve never noticed something strange, but if I did, I would tell them.”

Lisa was quiet for a few seconds, and then asked, “Don’t you think that’s because you never notice people?”

“What? That’s not true.”

“It is true. You never recognize people, even if you’ve met them a hundred times.”