They headed to the kitchen and Kelsey opened the door to the pantry/dog closet.
“Look! You did such an amazing job. Mr. Cuddles loves it, don’t you, Mr. Cuddles?”
Kelsey bent over to pick up Mr. Cuddles. As she did, Jane’s eyes locked on the diamond-studded Tiffany cross, liberated from a valley of cleavage, swinging below Kelsey’s breasts like apendulum. How agonizing death by crucifixion must be! Yet this ancient torture device, designed to make a painful death excruciatingly slow, had become a fashion accessory.
What would Jesus think?
Kelsey eyed herself critically in the bathroom mirror.
“The thing is, when you spend, like, most of your life on camera, you become hyperaware of how you look all the time.”
“I feel that way, too—even though I’m not on camera, thank god.... I mean, don’t most women?”
“I guess.”
The large bathroom had his-and-hers sinks, but because there was no “his” around, Kelsey had taken over all the counter space. A large mirrored tray bore her many perfumes. The bottles were a dizzying cacophony of shape and scent.
Kelsey explained, “Every makeup artist has some product they’re obsessed with, and they’d give me tons of stuff whenever I wrapped a show. Then there’s usually a lipstick or primer in a swag bag. And, yeah, there’s all the anti-aging shit people are always raving about and, of course, I have to get it and see if it’s for real, and every dermatologist has their own line of products, so—that’s why my bathroom is a disaster.”
“May I open the drawers?”
“Sure. I have jewelry in many of them. Like, junk jewelry. The good stuff I keep somewhere else. Which probably really needs to be organized, too.”
The drawers overflowed with lipsticks, eye shadows, mascaras, face creams, blushes, brushes, blow driers, curling irons, and a small dildo. Travel-size?
“May I look in the medicine cabinets?”
It was necessary to ask for permission, because cabinets oftenharbored secrets about illnesses, addictions, and sexual predilections.
“Of course! Nothing fun in there, just the usual Ambien and Xanax and Soma and my Fiorinal and birth control which I forget to take and all the prescription diet pills that don’t work, I mean, they give you cramps or make you nauseous or give you the shits really bad, but I never lose the weight.” Kelsey sighed. “It’s so hard after you’ve had kids, it really changes your metabolism. Before kids, I never had to diet. I guess it’s because you turn into something like a dairy.”
The words sprang from Jane’s lips. “One of the many reasons I am terrified of having children.”
Wait, was she confiding in Kelsey again? Could this mean her heart-opening yoga asanas had worked? Jane was realizing that one of the things she liked about Kelsey was how open she was. Her chronic oversharing, while alien, had become oddly endearing.
“Having kids is scary,” Kelsey said with a dramatic exhale. “I am not going to lie, like scary in so many ways, but also so worth it. I say do it if you can. Does your boyfriend want kids?”
“It’s not a topic of conversation at the moment. We’re taking a little break.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Kelsey made a pouty face.
“No, it’s good, very mutual and friendly,” Jane replied brightly, maybe too brightly. “We have a lot to figure out before we think about kids.”
“Hmm.” Kelsey didn’t appear to be convinced.
Realizing that not only was she opening her heart, but risked putting it on obscene display, Jane reverted to all-business mode and scanned the overstuffed medicine cabinets.
“I’ll need you once I’m done sorting all the meds in here.People have different rules about how strict to be about expiration dates—”
Kelsey made a dismissive motion. “I don’t worry about those. I have Dexedrine from the aughts and you’ll probably find some Fen-Phen from the nineties! That’s my mother’s drug of choice. I think she still gets it on the black market. Fortunately, she doesn’t have to worry about it damaging her heart because she doesn’t have one.”
“Ha. Something must pump her blood.”
“No, she’s bloodless and heartless. Basically a zombie. And just so you know, today I’m the one paying your fee, not my mother. I booked a couple of guest-starring roles—as a mom! Which sort of bugs me, but then I remember I actually am a mom.” Kelsey giggled. “So there you go.”
“Good for you. The business can be soul-crushing.”
“Did you work in showbiz?”
