LANA MASON
Yesterday
For the first time in months, I sat down at the vanity in my penthouse bedroom and opened the drawer to reveal all the makeup I hadn't touched since I organized it all in there. I'd used my essentials like concealer and blush, but this day called for a mostly full face. I needed to create the illusion that I wasn't quite as broken as I actually was.
When Allison texted me the night before and asked if I could meet her for coffee in the morning, I had to check the message and contact so many times to make sure I was reading it all correctly. I thought maybe it was a different Allison in my phone, despite her last name following her first name. I just couldn't believe it, but I said yes and I was beyond intrigued to hear what she had to say to me after all the time that had passed.
Rather than in its usual bun, my hair was neatly waved and my lashes were coated in a light layer of dark brown mascara. My lips were a natural shade of raspberry to match my cheeks, and I felt pretty for the first time in a long time. It's not that I need makeup to be pretty, but I think it's the ritual of taking the time to enhance my natural features and be present with myself that I missed so much.
Maya wasn't home, so I couldn't exactly use her for moral support as I left the apartment to head to SoHo, but I wasn't all that nervous to begin with. I couldn't imagine Allison would ask me to coffee just to yell at me again, so I assumed our meeting would have a positive purpose. Maybe I was just hoping.
It took me about a half hour to get from the Upper East Side to the coffee shop Allison picked, which naturally wasn't too far from her apartment or where she works. I've passed by it when running errands or shopping in the area, but it was never on the way from the subway station I came out of when I was heading to her place to watch Jane. It was a very Instagrammable shop, which is why I'm sure she likes it so much. Anyone with an eye for decorating and design could appreciate the plethora of natural light and regal aesthetic.
The scent of espresso was comforting in contrast to the way I felt as I made eye contact with Allison from across the small shop. She smiled ever so slightly and lifted her fingers from the salmon-pink round table to wave. I breathed in and walked toward her, matching her small half-smile as she stood from her velvet stool.
"Hey," she started.
"Hi," I adjusted my bag over my shoulder.
"Do you want to order first and then we can sit and talk?"
I nodded and removed my coat to drape over the padded chair on my side of the table, awkwardly trailing behind her to get in the short line to order our drinks. She got a hot chai latte with oat milk and I opted for my usual iced vanilla latte. We waited off to the side and stood like strangers beside each other, watching the baristas concoct each caffeinated drink until we were given ours. Then we retreat to our table toward the back of the cafe and I braced myself for whatever was about to come.
"So...how are you?" She began first again as we sat and got comfortable. Well, as comfortable as we could under those circumstances.
"I'm okay," I nodded. "How are you?"
She also nodded and shrugged one bony shoulder in her burgundy off-the-shoulder top. Her skin was so beautifully golden and made me consider getting natural spray tans for the winter the way she does.
"I'm alright," she raised her teal mug to her pink lips. "I'm sure you're wondering why I asked you to coffee."
"Yes."
