Free Facelift by Leanna Ellis Page B

neighborhood as Jack Franklin, in her Tara-esque mansion. It wouldn’t be but a ten-minute walk. I’m sure Cousin It is up for it. But I’m not sure I am. Besides my hair is matted with sweat. What would I say anyway? Maybe, “Do you ever feel like running away?” But I know her answer. Why would she run from her perfect life, husband, daughter, and house? She’d also tell me I brought my ex -mother-in-law on myself. So would my best friend, Annie, which causes me to nurse my misery in private.
    For a long while I study this place I now call home. All I see are things that need fixing, kind of like staring into a mirror and seeing only the threadlike wrinkles appearing between my eyebrows and at the corners of my eyes, sun blotches, freckles, a gray hair sneaking into my brown. My house needs a fresh coat of paint and some of the bushes replaced. I need moisturizer, hair dye, and tweezers.
    Let’s face it, we both need a facelift.
    The irony strikes me as funny, but I’m too tired to laugh.
    The sound of laughter leaps out from down the darkened street and grabs me. Cousin It jumps to her feet, barks and lunges toward the noise. My skin contracts.
    “Kaye? Is that you?” A familiar voice reaches out to me from across the street. I feel guilty for my instinct to duck and run. But it’s too late.
    “Terry!” I yank back on the leash as It lunges and barks. “What a coincidence, I was just thinking about you.” I jerk the leash hard. “Sit.” She doesn’t.
    “Did you get a dog?” Terry slows, her hand clasped in her husband’s, and stands across the street from me. Miles shifts from one foot to the other as if anxious to move on.
    “Oh, it’s a temporary situation. How are you?”
    Terry glances at her husband. “We’re okay. Just enjoying a few minutes together.”
    “It’s good to see you.” Suddenly, I feel like a third wheel . . . with a furry sidekick.
    “Call me!” She and Miles move past. Over her shoulder she adds, “We need to catch up.”
    I nod and watch them move into the darkness. Cousin It’s barking rings out into the night. I sit down on the curb, the oversized tennis shoes in the street, and Cousin It butts up against my hip. I place an arm around her narrow but furry shoulders. “Well, at least I have you. Temporarily.”

    The flash of headlights alerts me to a car coming down the street. I wrap Cousin It’s leash tighter around my hand. Already she’s on her feet, her furry body quivering with the feral urge to give chase. Surprisingly the headlights slow, blinding me for a moment. I scramble to my feet as the truck pulls in front of my house. Cousin It carries on as if I’m going to be dragged off. Her eagerness to defend me would be semisweet, that is, if her raucous bark and jerking on the leash wasn’t so annoying. If only Cliff had defended our marriage so nobly.
    The driver’s door opens and out steps Jack. Instinctively I step behind the mailbox and wish it were larger instead of just a cantankerous pole that leans slightly toward the street. “Hi!”
    “Sorry to bother you so late.” He walks toward me, bending at the waist to greet Cousin It. “Hey, big girl, how are you?”
    Behind them, the passenger door opens, and Gabe emerges. He waves at us but heads toward the front door.
    “Gabe needed to borrow a book from your daughter. And I thought I’d bring this contract by.”
    “Oh! Sure. No problem. Isabel didn’t tell me you were coming.” Or I would have put my suit back on instead of leaving on jeans and Izzie’s oversized tennis shoes. Thank the Lord good sense prevailed and I didn’t take her up on her offer and wear her shorts around the neighborhood, which seems to have turned into Grand Central Station tonight. I jerk back on the leash as Cousin It strains forward.
    But Jack leans over, producing a hand for the dog to sniff and then lick. He smiles and rubs the furry head. “Thanks for taking care of Cousin It for us.”
    “No problem. I