Beauty tip: If you're out of blush or
too young to wear it, pinch your cheeks a
few times to bring color to your face.
owning a pharmacy is having all the products to play with. No doubt about it. The cosmetics companies we order from send us samples of their new products to get us all excited about ordering them when the products are ready. That's how we found the Earth Beauty line. They sent us this whole box of samples, and I loved them, so Grandma stocks a bunch of their stuff now.
I always volunteer to be the official Old Mill Pharmacy tester of these sample products. To be honest, it's not like I have competition for the tester job. I'm the only one who wants to do it.
Yesterday, a whole box of makeup samples came in. And not old-lady makeup like sticky, smelly lipstick and blush that looks like it's made for a clown. Young people's makeup, and the best stuff too: shimmery silver eye shadow, summer-glow bronzer, and a million different shades of lip-glosses, just waiting in the brown box for me to try them.
As soon as I get to the pharmacy, I run and grab the box off the desk in the back office. Then I go into the bathroom, lock the door, and start testing.
The key is not to put on too much. You need to put on just enough to see how the product looks, but not so much that it overwhelms you.
The shimmery silver eye shadow is perfect. It's not so thick that if you accidentally rub your eye it all comes off in a clump on your finger. It's smooth and even on the eyelids, and it shimmers in just the right spots.
The bronzer's good too, but bronzer is bronzer, really. The most important thing to remember is not to use too much. Make it look natural. I'm brushing it on softly with the special bronzer brush we have, making sure to highlight my cheeks.
And finally, the best part: testing the lip-glosses. The ones that came yesterday are from the Extra Glossy line, and they're all candy names: Red Candy Cane, Beige Butterscotch, Burgundy Gumdrop, and lots more.
I put each one on lightly. They're the kind of lip-glosses that come in a skinny tube with a mini-brush to paint them on. I put on a little of each one, check it out in the mirror, and then wipe it off carefully with a tissue. It's hard to see the new color if there's a little bit of the one before peeking out from underneath.
The last color I try is my favorite: Pink Lollipop. It looks soft and colorful without being too much. And it smells delicious. Like a summer carnival.
People don't always realize this, but doing makeup is a real art form. It's just as hard to master and just as satisfying as making art when you do it well. The face is your canvas, and that's why I figure taking art lessons is important-it can only make my makeup skills stronger.
There's a knock on the bathroom door. "Go put together a package for Claudia," Grandma says.
"Um, Grams, Claudia's birthday is today, so it's obviously not going to get to Chicago on time," I say, talking back through the closed door, still admiring the Pink Lollipop lip-gloss in the mirror. She doesn't respond. "And besides, why are we going to send stuff to Claudia for free when it's actual stuff that we, like, need to sell?"
I meant to say that politely, but even I think I sounded rude. I'm just annoyed that Claudia's not here. I know she had to go to college and everything, but Claudia's the person who taught me to do makeup and who got me into it. I've been practicing on her since I was seven. We started doing it mostly because we were bored, and then it became my favorite thing to do.
"Lucy, please, just do it. We ordered her birthday gift online. This is just some extra stuff," Grandma says as soon as I leave the bathroom. I slump down the pharmacy aisles, taking random stuff for Claudia and throwing it into a box: hair mousse, wintergreen toothpaste, a beaded hair band, and three bags of Tootsie Pops.
There, that wasn't so hard.
And I know Claudia will appreciate the hair mousse. She goes through that stuff like it's water. Her hair is pretty much the opposite of mine, except for the color. We both have brown hair, but hers is tight, spirally curly, like Mom's. And when I look in the mirror and see my boring, brown, straight-as-a-ruler hair, I sort of wish I had hair like Claudia's. But there's nothing I can do about it. Grandma says people always want what they can't have. I think she's right, especially when it comes to hair.
My best friend, Sunny, was supposed to come with me to the pharmacy today, but at the last minute she couldn't. She forgot she had to go to her cousin Asha's dance recital. Asha doesn't do just any kind of dance, like ballet or tap-she does Indian dance. She's really good at it, graceful and calm. She looks like a goddess when she dances.
Sunny does Indian dancing too, but she's not as into it as Asha is. I think Sunny just gets nervous, plus Asha's three years older than we are. And Asha takes that age difference really seriously. She acts like she's so much older, like we're really immature. And she calls Sunny by her real name-Sunita. Nobody calls her that, except her parents, sometimes.
"Lucy, oh, Lucy," Grandma sings from across the pharmacy. She's standing next to the counter with Meredith Ganzi. "I'm summoning you."
Meredith Ganzi is from Waterside, and she's probably the pharmacy's best customer, even though she's only nine years old and doesn't have any of her own money to buy things. Her mom works at the movie theater next door, so Meredith usually just hangs around either at the theater or at the pharmacy on the weekends and some days after school. She's really annoying, but every time I tell Grandma that, she gives me a look. "Meredith isn't as fortunate as you are, Lucy," she tells me. "Be nice."
I don't say what I'm thinking. I don't say to Grandma, "I don't think I'm really so fortunate." If I did, she'd kill me. I walk over to them, carrying the brown box filled with stuff for Claudia. "Hi, Meredith," I say.
"You look really nice today, Lucy," Meredith says, looking at my grandmother for agreement. Meredith is one of those girls who think giving people compliments is the only way to get them to like her. I wish she knew that wasn't true.
Besides, I don't really look that nice today. I'm wearing a boring pink pocket T and jeans from two years ago, and they have a tiny hole in the middle of the thigh. And I'm not one of those girls who are into ripped jeans.
"Yes, she does." Grandma smiles like she believes it, but also like she needs me to get back to work. "Your job today is to reorganize the hair-product aisle. Everything is out of place. Gel is with dandruff shampoo. It's a disaster."
"Okay, Grams, I'm on it," I say. When I take a quick glance to the back of the store, I notice that Mom's still on the computer in the back office. She's been writing a letter to the editor of the Old Mill Observer all morning. She's furious that they are planning to get rid of the dog park to make a parking lot. We don't even have a dog, but she's still really angry that such a thing would happen.
As I'm reorganizing the hair section, I overhear Grandma doing what she's almost always doing: giving advice.
"But how can I prove to her that I'm old enough?" Meredith whines. They've been having this same conversation for a week now.
"Merry, listen, I'm telling you. The best way to prove to your mom that you're old enough to get your ears pierced is to show some responsibility," I hear Grandma say, and when I look up, she has her finger up in the air, waving it for emphasis.
"Okay, so what can you do? Well, set the table. Walk the dog. Make sure your room is clean."
Meredith sighs. "My mom's not as nice as you are, though."
"Nonsense." Grandma shakes her head. "Tell your mom to come to the store after her shift. I have her prescriptions ready, and the moisturizer I special-ordered for her."
At two thirty, I feel my cell phone vibrating in my pocket.
I flip it open and Claudia groans, "Thanks for the billion texts, Lucy," before I even get to say hello. "Mom's gonna be thrilled when she sees that bill. And you know we're an hour behind you, right?"
"Yeah, I know. I wanted to make you feel loved on your birthday, being so far away from home," I say. "Sorry if love costs money." She laughs. "Where have you been? It's Saturday. I know you don't have class on Saturday."
"Actually, you know how Amanda and I have the same birthday?" she asks. I'd forgotten that, but I pretend to remember. I wonder if everyone at Northwestern is paired with a roommate who has the same birthday.
"Well, her mom flew in from Atlanta, and she took us to a spa this morning! How amazing is that?"
"Amazing," I grumble. It's hard not to be jealous of Claudia. She's living this awesome life in Chicago, going to spas and everything, while I worry back in Connecticut.
I can hear her slurping her drink over the phone. "Get this: It was an eco-spa!"
"An eco-spa?" I ask.
"Yeah, all the products were earth-friendly. They used special machines for some of the treatments so they didn't waste energy. They used special lighting, had recycled paper to cover the tables. And a billion other things."
"That sounds cool, I guess." Hearing Claudia so excited about this eco-spa makes me depressed. I feel like I don't have anything to be that excited about.
"I know," she says. "Anyway, thanks for all the birthday wishes. I gotta go. These guys down the hall are throwing a party for us, and they want us to check out the decorations."
I roll my eyes, which thankfully Claudia can't see through the phone. I hate when she rushes me off the phone, but I guess she has an excuse today, since it's her birthday. "Have fun," I say.
College sounds like the best place in the world. Too bad I have six years until I can get there.
