wasn't quite sure how to take her. "He lets me find out some things for myself."
"That Ian. He's something else."
"You guys should work together."
"Yeah. Well. He's the ACT-or. I'm the rom com lightweight. What can you do? Where's the kiddo?"
"She's at school. She'll be home soon."
"Don't worry, kids like me. They're in my demographic."
"I have no qualms about you."
Evelyn pushed her sunglasses back on her head and looked around, as if seeing the room for the first time. “This is kind of plain. I mean, if you’re into that aesthetic I get where you’re coming from, but you could really use some accent colors for contrast. It would brighten up the place like you wouldn’t believe. I know an artist out of Santa Fe who could do a mural on that wall—it would blow you away, I’m telling you. I could get you his number.”
Jane smiled. Her lips stuck to her teeth. She ran her tongue between her upper lip and her front teeth. “Um, that would be great.”
With Evelyn as a guest, by the second morning the days already began to have a familiar pattern. In the morning, Evelyn liked to come down and eat, in silence, a meal of granola cereal and soy milk. Tam, who watched Evelyn like a movie, was preternaturally well-behaved. The difficulty was dragging her away from the Evelyn movie long enough for her to go to school. Jane succeeded when she got her to start pretending she was Evelyn going to school when Evelyn was a little girl. Pretending helped Tam a lot with the whole going-to-school ordeal in general. Once Jane had figured that out both of their lives had become much easier. Just saying, “Today, what if you were Laura Ingalls?” could get Tam’s imagination working and her whole day on the right track. They were reading the series. Then when she got home they could read some Little House in the Big Woods and have a feeling of completion to the day. But now it was the all-Evelyn show, twenty-four seven.
After breakfast and Jane's trip to the bus with Tam, Evelyn wanted to go for a walk. The first morning Jane had shown her a walk she herself liked, and today Evelyn suggested they take it again together. Jane wondered if Evelyn would be in a better mood. It was pretty clear she was not a morning person. She looked different today.
“I never saw you with curly hair like that before.”
“Oh, yeah.” Evelyn touched her head. “I washed it. I didn’t feel like blowing it out.”
They were taking the same route along a very old fence line, dating from a couple generations earlier, cross-fencing that now reached out to nowhere special. It was a there-and-back kind of walk. Or you could do a triangle. Jane hadn’t shown her the lake yet.
“You mean your hair is naturally curly? All your movies, everything…”
“Straightened.”
“Why? I like it curly.”
“I don’t. It doesn’t work for me.”
They walked on in silence for a while, Jane running her hand along the smooth wooden rails, feeling the knots and indentations, skipping over the posts and sliding along the next rail.
“What’s wrong with curly hair?”
“Oh, nothing’s wrong with it, per se. It projects a different image. Straight hair is more me. It’s grown up, elegant. Comedians have curly hair. I want to be taken seriously.” Evelyn ran her hand through her red spiraling curls.
"You do comedy."
“I may do comedy, but I want to be taken seriously as an actress. I don’t want be pigeon-holed.” Evelyn ran her fingers up to the hair at the nape of her neck, twisting it out. “And I’m in all the hair magazines, so I must be doing something right. People want to look like me. Not that I care about that. I’d rather they paid attention to my acting and not my hair, so much. But when you’re a redhead, what can you do? They’re always going to notice your hair.”
"Your hair is beautiful." Jane paused. "I used to do makeup."
Evelyn made an approving noise. "That's how you met, isn't it?"
Jane nodded.
"It was a
"That Ian. He's something else."
"You guys should work together."
"Yeah. Well. He's the ACT-or. I'm the rom com lightweight. What can you do? Where's the kiddo?"
"She's at school. She'll be home soon."
"Don't worry, kids like me. They're in my demographic."
"I have no qualms about you."
Evelyn pushed her sunglasses back on her head and looked around, as if seeing the room for the first time. “This is kind of plain. I mean, if you’re into that aesthetic I get where you’re coming from, but you could really use some accent colors for contrast. It would brighten up the place like you wouldn’t believe. I know an artist out of Santa Fe who could do a mural on that wall—it would blow you away, I’m telling you. I could get you his number.”
Jane smiled. Her lips stuck to her teeth. She ran her tongue between her upper lip and her front teeth. “Um, that would be great.”
With Evelyn as a guest, by the second morning the days already began to have a familiar pattern. In the morning, Evelyn liked to come down and eat, in silence, a meal of granola cereal and soy milk. Tam, who watched Evelyn like a movie, was preternaturally well-behaved. The difficulty was dragging her away from the Evelyn movie long enough for her to go to school. Jane succeeded when she got her to start pretending she was Evelyn going to school when Evelyn was a little girl. Pretending helped Tam a lot with the whole going-to-school ordeal in general. Once Jane had figured that out both of their lives had become much easier. Just saying, “Today, what if you were Laura Ingalls?” could get Tam’s imagination working and her whole day on the right track. They were reading the series. Then when she got home they could read some Little House in the Big Woods and have a feeling of completion to the day. But now it was the all-Evelyn show, twenty-four seven.
After breakfast and Jane's trip to the bus with Tam, Evelyn wanted to go for a walk. The first morning Jane had shown her a walk she herself liked, and today Evelyn suggested they take it again together. Jane wondered if Evelyn would be in a better mood. It was pretty clear she was not a morning person. She looked different today.
“I never saw you with curly hair like that before.”
“Oh, yeah.” Evelyn touched her head. “I washed it. I didn’t feel like blowing it out.”
They were taking the same route along a very old fence line, dating from a couple generations earlier, cross-fencing that now reached out to nowhere special. It was a there-and-back kind of walk. Or you could do a triangle. Jane hadn’t shown her the lake yet.
“You mean your hair is naturally curly? All your movies, everything…”
“Straightened.”
“Why? I like it curly.”
“I don’t. It doesn’t work for me.”
They walked on in silence for a while, Jane running her hand along the smooth wooden rails, feeling the knots and indentations, skipping over the posts and sliding along the next rail.
“What’s wrong with curly hair?”
“Oh, nothing’s wrong with it, per se. It projects a different image. Straight hair is more me. It’s grown up, elegant. Comedians have curly hair. I want to be taken seriously.” Evelyn ran her hand through her red spiraling curls.
"You do comedy."
“I may do comedy, but I want to be taken seriously as an actress. I don’t want be pigeon-holed.” Evelyn ran her fingers up to the hair at the nape of her neck, twisting it out. “And I’m in all the hair magazines, so I must be doing something right. People want to look like me. Not that I care about that. I’d rather they paid attention to my acting and not my hair, so much. But when you’re a redhead, what can you do? They’re always going to notice your hair.”
"Your hair is beautiful." Jane paused. "I used to do makeup."
Evelyn made an approving noise. "That's how you met, isn't it?"
Jane nodded.
"It was a
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