“I will never confess it,” she said to no one in particular as she put the secret ingredient into her famous Texas Candy recipe.
Many had tried to guess what it was; many had pressed her hard to tell.
She knew they’d never figure it out, and with that, she smiled a little self-satisfied smile and set them out to cool.
“Hmmph,” she said to no one in particular as was her proclivity as she looked down at the lipstick mark her lips made after the first sip of her first cup of coffee of the day.
With a little too much force, she wiped away every trace of Eldorado Red from the rim of her cup before taking the next sip.
And thus began her morning routine, sipping, swiping and then sipping again, which oddly gave her a feeling of extreme self-satisfaction every time.
“It’s frigging miraculous,” she said to no one in particular as she spied and then finally recovered the tiny silver backing of her left faux diamond stud earring from under the refrigerator using a straightened wire hanger with a piece of well-chewed gum stuck to its end.
She stuck it back on its post before dusting off the lint that had stuck to the knees of her velour pantsuit during her search.
And with that, she returned to Judge Judy reruns with a renewed sense of hope for the world.
“If it’s not one thing, it is another!” she muttered under her breath to no one in particular, as she walked away after attempting to relate to the newly voted in President of the Women’s League, whose ensuing torrent of complaints just about set off one of her famous migraines.
Fortunately, she had felt it coming on and so had smiled the polite smile she was known for and excused herself, citing a sudden powerful need to powder her nose.
She passed by the door to the Ladies, making a beeline for the tray of drinks that was just a few feet ahead, ever-grateful for her social survival instincts: that one wouldn’t be in office long, the thought to herself, and with that, she smiled a very self-satisfied smile and took a first, very long, sip of mint julep.
“In theory, I have a wonderful life,” she said to no one in particular, pulling the bedcover back over her head, unable to face yet another day.
There was an elegance to the way she poured coffee, a slight turn of her wrist that turned the stream just so as it finished filling the cup.
It was subtle – even she wasn’t aware of this remnant of her former life – and it did not register for most, but a discerning eye such as his now and then caught it.
And for the slightest of instants, the diner was transformed into a four star hotel, and the coffee, a fine Bordeaux.
And just like that, she felt something bubble up from her heart. It took a moment, but with astonishment she realized she actually felt jolly. She felt a laugh escape her that she hadn’t heard in years as a single, tiny tear of joy fell from her left eye.
“Don’t varnish the truth, darling,” she said to no one in particular as she resolutely declined to add more lipstick color to her lips. She could plainly see the little telltale lines above her upper lip and the way the bright red color she had favored in her youth now bled off into the tiny trenches, and with that, she was done with reds. It would be pinks and faint corals from now on, until the day when even those colors would need to be retired.
“And that, I dare say, is that,” she said to no one in particular as she gave the diamond in her newly acquired engagement ring one last look.
Its size and sparkle were inarguable, and it would be absolutely impossible for Bitsy Simons to ignore at tonight’s soiree.
And with that, she went to join her fiancé – a rather dull-witted man who offered social standing and excessive wealth if nothing else – and to finally get payback for Bitsy’s disinviting her from her coming out party the year before.
“Allow me to give you just a snippet of my mind,” she said to no one in particular.
“No,” she said, calmly but with full commitment.
And with that, she felt utterly complete.
Beyond the Skinny Branches 