Free Nothing But Trouble by Bettye Griffin Page B

freshly cut, and she wore lipstick and blush. Hearing Micheline’s innocent exclamation bruised Cécile’s ego, but there wasn’t a damn thing she could say, because her sister was right. She’d let herself go, going months between haircuts and messing up her diet with those addictive gummi bears.
    She became uncomfortably aware of the difference between her appearance and her sister’s. Micheline’s side-parted hair had been styled in a shoulder-length blunt cut that looked like it required little maintenance, her eyebrows had been professionally waxed, her nails were perfect ovals painted in a French manicure, and she wore carefully applied blush and rose-colored lipstick. The ring fingers of both her hands were adorned with rings, and she wore a delicate-looking gold-banded watch on her right wrist and a series of gold bangles on her left.
    Cécile, on the other hand, wore her “work uniform” of T-shirt and sweatpants, which only made her more conscious of the twenty-five extra pounds she still carried. She wore simple gold ball earrings, the kind babies and very little girls wore when their ears were first pierced, and she had a plain Timex with a brown leather band. The only good thing that could be said about her nails was that no dirt lodged under them. She wore her curly jet-black hair short, but the flattering style she’d originally had it cut in had long since grown out into a shapeless mass. Seeing Micheline made her realize how badly she needed to get to the salon for a cut.
    â€œI think that’s so sweet that you two met when waiting to have your pictures taken,” Micheline went on, not noticing Cécile’s lack of reaction to her previous remark.
    â€œYes,” Cécile said, brightening at the memory. “I had just left Louis maybe three months before. I wanted to get a portrait done of the girls and me while they were still small and so adorable, so I bought all of us those beautiful velvet dresses. The photographer was on schedule, so Michael and I didn’t really get a chance to talk, other than telling each other how nice we looked. Michael told me afterward that he asked the receptionist to schedule him to see his kids’ proofs at the same time I was coming in to see mine. He got there early so he’d be sure to see me. That was when we started to talk, and one thing led to another.”
    â€œIt just goes to show, you can meet the man of your dreams anywhere.”
    Cécile looked at Micheline curiously. Had she imagined it, or had she caught a note of wistfulness in her sister’s voice? She was closer to thirty than twenty. Had she begun to have urges to settle down?
    Micheline carefully placed the photographs back on the top of Cécile’s desk. “You’ve got a nice family, Sis.”
    Together they walked toward the front door. “I’m sure you’ll have the same once you settle down,” Cécile said. She felt generous, now that she sensed she had something Micheline wanted. That definitely beat out the dumpy feeling she’d had just minutes before.
    â€œI’m sure I will, too. But I’m only twenty-seven. I’ve got plenty of time yet to get married. No man is going to saddle me with a bunch of kids. When it’s time there’ll be one child, so I can regain my figure right away with no hassle. No starvation diets or ruthless exercise regimens to get back into shape after the second, thank you.”
    â€œThat’s a myth, Michie. Every woman is different. Some women bounce right back into shape even if they have five or six, while others struggle to lose the weight they’ve gained after having just one. Look at me. I was fine with all three of mine. I didn’t gain weight until after I married Michael.”
    â€œWell, that’s in the future. I’m not ready for a husband and child yet.”
    â€œWhen will you be ready?”
    Micheline smiled