Page 3 of Game Plan
I gave her a quick hug. "I know you don't mind watching romcoms and eating double choc-chip ice cream with a side of tequila."
"Oh, hell no, I don't mind that," she said. "I mind seeing you cry because some jerk didn't treat you right. You deserve better."
She smiled and started to pack up the bags of makeup she brought with her for this occasion. Some day, I'd have to take her shopping with me to buy my own. If I went alone, I'd come back with three trays of blue eyeshadow, to match my blue eyes, andseveral bottles of bright purple nail polish. What? I have a thing for purple, okay? That and red.
The point was, I was clueless when it came to makeup, and Grace was the queen. She could have gone into professional makeup for movies and the like, but she chose public relations instead. Something about helping people not fall on their faces appealed to her, I guess.
I suppose I can consider myself her test subject.
I, on the other hand, went into journalism, where people falling on their faces was big money.
I hated that side of it, and avoided it where possible. I preferred the kind of stories which inspired people to help make the world a better place. I guess, in spite of everything, I'm still an idealist. I still want to see the good in people. Even Conrad fucking Florence.
I also knew not to put certain shades of red together with purple. I'm clueless, not colourblind.
I pushed my glasses onto my face and grabbed up my phone, bag and keys, in order of importance.
I opened the door and let Grace out first.
"Tell me how it goes, okay?" she said. “If you don’t, I’ll sprinkle white cat fur all over your favourite black skirt.”
She wouldn't actually do that, but as threats went, it was effective. I would never get all that fur out. The stuff was like glitter. Cute as her cats were, I didn't need to wear their hair for the rest of my life.
"I will," I assured her. "You'll be the first to hear all the juicy details."
"What are friends for if you can't live vicariously through them?" Grace said with a sigh, then she grinned so wide I saw her back teeth.
"I really need to set you up with that guy from work," I said.
"The guy with the boxes of condoms in plain view?" Grace asked.
"At least he's safe," I argued.
"At least they're not used," Grace said, mouth twisted in disgust.
"Ewww." I matched her expression. "Yeah, that would be horrible."
I pressed the button for the elevator and nodded at one of my neighbours as she shuffled past.
"Are we still on for dinner on Wednesday?" I asked as cheerfully as I could. Gladys lived alone and no family ever checked up on her, so I'd taken to inviting her to eat with me every couple of weeks.
"I'll be there with bells on, Becca dear." Gladys smiled, showing a couple of missing teeth, but with so much warmth it made my heart hurt that she was alone in the world.
"Great." The elevator pinged and Grace and I stepped inside.
"She's lucky to have you," Grace said when the door closed.
I made a face. "If she was really lucky, she'd have dinner with people who cared about her, not some stranger in her building."
"You do care about her," Grace insisted. "You wouldn't invite her in if you didn't."
"I guess so. But I mean the people who aresupposedto care about her, not a stranger." I shrugged. It seemed like the decent thing to do. Who in the world couldn't use more kindness? "You should come too. Gladys tells the most amazing stories about growing up and seeing the world change. She even remembers when phones were attached to the wall."
Grace's eyes widened. "I thought that was a myth?" she joked.
I laughed. "It's true." My smile faded. I wasn't sure if technology made things better, worse or just different. We couldreach people easier, but people like Gladys were still alone. It didn't seem right to me.
"I'd love to come to dinner," Grace said. "I'll bring the ice cream."
