Just Smile and Look Cute

"Hello?" I stretched across my bed to pick up the ringing phone.

"Maggie?" A voice asked me quickly. At least I recognized it.

"Hey Sarah," I greeted her with a smile, pulling myself up into a sitting position. "What's up?"

"Can I borrow those pearl earrings of yours tonight?" She got straight to the point.

"My pearl earrings?" I frowned and bit my lower lip, not having a clue what she was asking me about.

"You know, the ones you got last Christmas from Taylor?" She informed me with impatience. "You were making out under the mistletoe after he'd given them to you."

"Oh- those earrings." I snapped to my senses before realizing she was picking on me. "And we were not making out!"

"Can I borrow them or not?"

"Well, let's see." Standing up, I walked over to my dresser and started rummaging through my one and only jewelry box for them. To put it mildly, I'm not much of a fashion diva. While it took phenomenal occasions for me to wear makeup (and have it that I didn't look like a runaway clown or displaced member of Kiss, mind you), jewelry was another issue. I was only glad that Taylor hadn't bought me a ring for our anniversary - it would have lasted about two days on my finger before I'd have found some way of loosing it.

I'm amazed that I still have these, I picked up the earrings and turned them over in the palm of my hand. The tiny stud pearls dully shined underneath my bedroom light.

"Since you asked so nicely.." I teased her.

"Maggie, may I please borrow your pearl earrings for tonight?" With her slow, frustrated words, I could picture her gritting her teeth.

"Of course you can," I replied lightly. "They're in my hand right now. You want me to bring them over before I go to work tonight?"

"That would be lovely." As she sighed loudly into the phone, I used my sharp powers of deduction to determine that whatever she needed my earrings for, she certainly wasn't looking forward to. Now something like that I couldn't help but be curious about.

"You don't sound very excited.." I informed her of the obvious. "These are the infamous make-out earrings; I'd expect a little more from you, Sarah Jacobs dash Hanson."

"Very funny." She sighed again. "Isaac's got a welcoming party at his new branch chief's house tonight. Unfortunately, his division can't wait to meet his new 'little wife..' (she sounded particularly bitter on those words)"

".. so that's where I come in," she finished.

"Ahh.. I see." I replied sarcastically. "Does this mean you're supposed to walk three steps behind me, curtsey the whole evening as he introduces you, and not to mention wipe his chin after he's done eating, then burp him?"

"Of course not, you dork." At least she laughed a little. Laughter is my cure to the jitters. Doesn't work all the time though, like now: Sarah's voice held it's hesitant nature.

"There are going to be some executives there though, along with their snooty, I'm-too-good-to-even-think-about-lifting-a- finger-at-work-so-my-Daddy / Boyfriend-made-me-a-secretary, excuse me, Administrative Assistant, here at the company."

"Sounds like heaps of fun." I laughed at her lack of enthusiasm. Not that I blamed her reaction; I was glad Taylor's choice into drafting and architecture guaranteed he'd spend his days in ripped jeans and t-shirts, not suits. At least that was his goal. A very attainable one, given his talent, but I was more than happy to accept second-rate societal status. Leave the high class for the snobs, that's my opinion.

"You should be used to hanging around rich people, shouldn't you?" I frowned, recalling all the lavish parties her father had thrown that Sarah had made her usual appearances at. This didn't sound too different.

"Key word is should." She replied. "But then I was 'Daddy's little girl.' All I had to do was smile and look cute."

"Well, then go, smile, and look cute tonight."

"It's not that simple." She laughed again. "Now I'm in a room filled with professionals, who are all going to judge me for.. well, more than appearance."

"Ok.." I replied slowly, not understanding where she was going with this.

"You've got the appearance part down, at least." That much was true: with her soft, silky blonde hair so light people often thought she highlighted it and crystal clear blue eyes, not to mention her naturally slim figure, she could pull off any outfit and look like a knockout. Others of us, particularly those of us who've been guilty of stuffing Kleenex in their bras before, weren't as lucky.

"Oh, well thank you. I meant I'm going to be judged on a more.. " She searched for the right word. "Professional level. I just know questions about my job will come up, then with Ike there it's going to be ten times more fun."

"At least he knows how you feel on the subject- Uh-oh.. " I nearly dropped the phone with the realization I still hadn't talked to Taylor since he'd thought I'd hung up on him. I also realized how more uncomfortable it'd make her feel.

"What did you do now?"

"Umm.. I need to call Taylor." I mumbled into the phone, more to myself than to Sarah.

"What!?" She giggled loudly. "You still haven't called the poor guy back?"

"No," I replied sheepishly. "On top of the usual business, I had to make that tape with Alex and then freak out about Mia."

"Why were you freaking out about Mia?" Sarah asked curiously.

"Oh.." I suddenly wasn't sure if it was my place to tell Sarah or not.

She is my best friend and I tell her everything, so I guess it wouldn't hurt. I could at least get someone else's reaction.

"She, umm.." I started.

"Is she hurt?" Sarah asked, starting a guessing game.

"No."

"Is she in trouble?"

"No."

"Hmm.. Did she finally get a date?"

"Not that I know of."

"Did she finally stop wearing sports bras so tight that her cleavage is showing?"

"Actually, no." I laughed into the phone.

"Then what?" She asked. "I'm running out of options here."

"She's gay."

".. Like a lesbian?"

"No, like a monkey," I rolled my eyes. "Of course like a lesbian! What else?"

"I wanted to make sure I heard you correctly." Sarah frowned with confusion and voiced her thoughts, "Wait, didn't she used to date Taylor before you?"

"Well, she's not technically a hundred percent gay."

"So she's a bisexual, right?"

"Exactly."

"Then why the hell didn't you just say that in the first place?" She groaned at me. "And while you're at it, tell me something I didn't already know."

"You knew!?" I squeaked. "And didn't tell me?"

"It was just a guess." She explained.

"You just guessed that.." I repeated slowly. "Based on what?"

"Her personality, that's all."

"There's a typical bisexual personality?"

"Well, it's kind of obvious, Maggie."

"It is?"

"Yeah. She never told me, but I'm not surprised to hear that."

"No shit.." I shook my head. "I had no clue."

"That doesn't surprise me either." Sarah smirked.

"Hey, be nice to me." I reminded her, balling my hand into a fist. "I still have the make-out earrings in my hand."

"Speaking of which, shouldn't you be getting your ass over here in a few minutes?" She asked. As I glanced at the time on my alarm clock, I groaned loudly.

"One of these days I'll be on time for something. I'm leaving in three minutes."

"Now that would be a surprise. What's so special about three minutes?"

"It takes less than one for me to get to my car, but I have to go to the bathroom." I explained through gritted teeth. "I'm sure something will interrupt me on the way, so I'm guessing three."

"Spare me the details." She replied. "See you when you get here."

"Good deal. Later." I turned off my phone and threw in on my bed. As I scrambled onto the floor and slipped on my shoes, I couldn't but wonder what I'd missed in Mia's personality.

How could I miss completely obvious?

"Because you're completely oblivious to things like that," Sarah answered me at her front door. "Thanks for the earrings."

"No problem," I handed them over to her. "Tell me something."

"Sure, come on in while we chat." She moved aside to let me in. One of these days I'll get over the shock of her moving from a humungous mansion to the tiny one-bedroom apartment she now shared with Ike. It held only one small bedroom, where their queen-sized bed took up most of the space, a kitchen, half a living room, bathroom, and two closets. However, it was right in the heart of downtown Tulsa, hence it's expensive rent. What they spent on rent I can imagine they saved on gas for transportation. Me, on the other hand, had a thirty-five minute drive to work and school and home. While I appreciated the quiet, well-kept neighborhood Gerald and Karen's house rested in, the drive was a royal pain in the ass.

"What do you want me to tell you?" Sarah asked, slipping the earrings on her lobes.

"Be careful with the right one." I pointed to her ear. "The clasp has a habit of coming loose."

"I'll remember that, thanks." She smiled nervously. I glanced around the kitchen, noticing several dirty pots and dishes piled over the countertop.

"What happened to your counter?" I asked. "Looks like it got swallowed."

"The joys of working overtime." Sarah explained with a sigh. "One of the regular girls at Hair Flair quit last week and they haven't replaced her yet, so I've had a nice set of fifteen hours overtime this week."

"That bitch." I smiled widely, carefully leaning my hand against a bare spot on the counter. "Why did she have to do and do that?"

"She went back to high school." She replied through narrowed eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry then." I apologized, sincerely feeling bad about my comment. "I take back the bitch comment."

"Thank God you aren't going with me." Sarah giggled. "That'd only make it worse."

"Hey, if I go with you," I pointed out. "It would make you look all that better."

"That's true..." She pretended to consider the option. "Not a risk I'm willing to take though."

"Good, because I wouldn't be caught dead at one of those functions. Now, go put on your dress so I can see it."

"Ok, Mother." Sarah called over her shoulder as she disappeared. As my eyes shifted around the kitchen, I genuinely felt bad for Sarah.

Where's Ike to help out a little around here? My hand bumped against a plate, knocking it loudly into the sink.

"I'm gone for five seconds - what did you break?" Sarah called from the bedroom.

"Nothing! Just a plate, that's all." I mumbled in response. Glancing at the sink full of dirty dishes, I turned on the sink and grabbed a bottle of soap from underneath the sink.

At least I can be of some help while I'm waiting, I rationalized. I couldn't help but notice a lot of "instant foods" were stuck on these plates as I scraped them off with the sponge I'd also found under the sink. Again, I wondered where Mr. Jacobs dash Hanson was.

"Hey Sarah?" I called over my shoulder to her as I set a clean plate on a towel next to the sink. "Where's Ike?"

"He had another meeting tonight, and- Oh, you don't have to do that." Sarah replied as she returned in the kitchen.

"Dishes I don't mind." I offered. "I just don't do windows."

"Well, it's your dish-pan hands funeral." She giggled. "What do you think?"

"I think- wow!" I glanced at her over my shoulder. "I think all those snooty people don't know what's coming."

"You don't think it's too plain, do you?" Sarah smoothed her fingertips over the dark red dress I recognized from high school. It still looked just as fantastic on her now as it did back then.

Back then.. listen to how old I sound, I mused in my head. Oh great, now I'm musing.. give me five seconds and I suppose I'll loose my false teeth.

"Are you meeting Ike there?"

"Yes, unfortunately." She replied, grabbing her purse off the counter and rummaging through it. "I've never heard of the suburb before, but it's only supposed to be a few miles north of Tulsa. I'm just glad we still have two cars."

"Yeah, that's convenient." I agreed. "But that sucks you have to go by yourself."

"That's all right." Sarah grinned. "I have a broccoli casserole to escort me inside."

"This is a snooty potluck dinner?" I raised an eyebrow. That's new.

"Yeah, I guess." She shrugged and walked over to the refrigerator, removing an aluminum-foiled covered pan and nudging the door shut with her toe. "That's what Ike told me yesterday."

"Well, you make a lovely couple." I pointed to the casserole. "Ike has some serious competition."

"Aren't you going to be late for work?" Sarah raised an eyebrow pointedly at me. I glanced down at my watch and groaned.

"Damn."

"Ok.." Sarah exhaled nervously, her hand poised above a tailored glass door. She'd never seen such an exquisite stain glass pattern before; she was almost unsure to knock on it but didn't see any signs of a doorbell. Fortunately, the directions Ike had given her were perfect - she'd actually arrived fifteen minutes earlier than she told him she'd be there. She only hoped he had gotten there earlier as well, but would soon find her hopes shattered.

"May I help you, dear?" An elderly woman peered curiously at Sarah through the door.

"Is this the Thomas residence?" She asked tentatively, a little surprised at the frail, stooped woman that had answer the door.

"No." The woman replied. "The Thomas's live next door.. Is that broccoli casserole?"

"Oh goodness." Sarah's cheeks immediately flushed pink. Yet she couldn't help but also feel a little confused.

"And yes.. it is broccoli casserole."

"That's my favorite. Would you mind giving a bite to a hungry, old woman?"

"These are for the guests at a party I'm going to, m-Ma'am." Sarah stammered. "I'm terribly sorry to bother you. Thanks."

"Not a problem." The woman quickly closed the door in her face.

I can only hope no one saw that, Sarah thought to herself as she tiptoed over the woman's various lawn ornaments. I should've figured anyone with a lawn that resembles Disneyland wasn't the right house.

"Hello?" A gruff voice answered the next door. Sarah's eyes widened at the sight of his bulging beer belly beneath a once white but now randomly stained t-shirt.

"Umm.. Could you tell me how to get to the Thomas household?" She tentatively asked. This was definitely not the correct house.

"Two doors down on the right." He pointed a stubby finger to the house on the other side of the elderly, and obviously senile, woman's.

"Thank you, sir." Sarah quickly bounded down his front stairs. After shuddering at the lawn ornaments, particularly the gnomes with high pointed hats, she made a third attempt.

"Goodness! We were wondering when you'd get it straight." A perky voice called to Sarah from a nearby open window. She was greeted at the doorway by a tall, slender woman dressed completely in black. Even a strand of black onyx hung across her chest. She extended a pale hand with spidery fingers to Sarah.

"Winifred Thomas." The woman parted her lips in a smile, revealing perfectly sparkling teeth.

"Sarah Jac-Hanson." Sarah replied, feeling nervous at the woman's cold touch.

"Lovely to meet you, dear." Winifred placed her hand on the small of Sarah's back and ushered her inside.

"Thank you." She carefully stepped over the small brick stairs in front of the door. The last first impression she wanted to make was one where she'd end up sprawled across their front foyer. "You have a lovely home."

"This old bomb shelter?" Winifred laughed loudly, placing her hand on her chest. "It's ancient, but we like to call it home."

"Very.. cozy." Sarah's voice filtered through the long front hallway as the door shut behind her. The stark white walls hung no family pictures, no artwork, no such signs of life. It felt very strange to her.

"Sally," Mrs. Thomas rested her hands on Sarah's shoulders. "Mind if I ask what the pan is for?"

"Oh!" Sarah shook her gaze away from the house. "A broccoli casserole.. And it's Sarah."

"Why on earth did you bring a casserole?"

"M-my husband said to bring a dish to pass.." Sarah's voice trailed off as she saw the blank look on Winifred's face before her own face fell.

"Obviously he was mistaken.."

"Obviously." Mrs. Thomas chuckled. "We can still serve it."

"No, that's all right." Noticing the porcelain china adorned with various foods on a table in the dining room, she clutched her metal pan to her stomach. "I-I'll just go run and put it out in my car."

"If you insist. I hope you find our house this time."

"Of course." Sarah smiled tightly at the woman and flew to the door. Once outside in her car, she desperately fought the urges to burst into tears and drive as far away from here as her tank of gas would take her. She'd noticed the huddle of women gathered in front of the windows still watching her, sizing her up, 'discussing' her.

Ike, she reminded herself, swallowing her pride and stepping out of the car. Is going to owe me so much for this.

"Umm.. hello." I muttered to my feet.

"Hi, Maggie." A voice that wasn't my boyfriend's replied to me. "Figured you'd be back here to grovel a few days ago."

"Very funny Zac," I lifted my head and smiled. "Is he here?"

"Of course," he rolled his eyes, stepping away from the front door so I could enter. "Moping for a few days longer than expected, so brace yourself for Cranky Tay."

"Thanks for the warning," I smiled. "I guess that means you know what happened."

"We all do. And, on the behalf of the rest of my family, thanks for making the rest of us suffer the last few days from his male PMS."

"He could've called," I mumbled more to myself, making my way to Taylor's room. Seeing that the door was partially open, I rapped my knuckles softly against it and peeked my head inside. I didn't know whether to laugh or sigh at the sight in front of me: it was eight p.m. and the boy was taking a nap. While I hated to disturb whatever had put a pleasant smile on his face, his arms tucked behind his head, it was , as Zac had so eloquently put it, groveling time.

"Taylor.." I sat next to him on the bed, poking him in the side. Fortunately unlike me, who could sleep through a tornado, he was quite a fairly sleeper.

"What?" Point made: his eyes immediately flew open, then squinted at me. "Maggie?"

"Yeah," I smiled sheepishly. "Hi."

"Hi yourself." He sat up slightly, propping himself against his headboard.

"What are you doing sleeping at eight o'clock?" I asked him.

"Relaxing," Taylor smiled. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to apologize," I mumbled. "For the other night.."

"What was that?" He grinned, cupping his hand around his ear, pretending not to have heard me.

"I'm sorry," I looked directly into his eyes. "I didn't mean to get so upset."

"It's ok, I'm sorry too." He returned my smile. "I almost didn't recognize you though, it's been so long."

"Yeah..." I looked away, absently picking at a piece of lint on his comforter. "Sorry about that too."

"Well, it's not like I could ever forget about you." He grinned. "You wouldn't let me, anyways."

"Now that's not very nice," I jabbed him a few times in the sides with my fingers, not that it'd work: between the two of us, I was the only one who was ticklish.

"Seeing as I'm such a forgiving person," Taylor grabbed my hands, pulling me down onto him. "I think you're getting off the hook rather easily."

"Taylor, I-" I breathed, my face mere inches from his. He didn't let me finish though, releasing my hands and placing his behind my neck. I smiled and relented to his gentle tugging, leaning forward and placing my lips softly against his. Apparently what I was going to say didn't matter, but damn did it feel good to have everything back to normal.