The mirror never lies. Every line and wrinkle; each tiny, barely visible fault is mercilessly and exactly reproduced in the reflection. It’s enough to drive a person to insanity.
Janelle never faced the mirror straight on. Rather she approached it from the side, sliding herself into view. She always chose to slide in from the left side; insuring that she saw the right side of her face first. It was her best side. Now, fully facing the mirror, she examined her dusky complexion.
Not bad, considering I had a late night out. Lynnette is fickle when it comes to choosing her companion. I need to look my best. Antoinette thinks that she’ll get the best of me today but she won’t. Janelle scrubbed her face and patted it dry. She surveyed her choices.
I’m going sultry today. Let’s see – a mahogany rouge with pink undertones, burgundy lip gloss, pecan brown eye shadow. Mascara? Not very much. No eyeliner. I need just a touch of foundation, especially near my left eye to cover up that splotch. When I don’t get it right, it messes up everything else. She slowly applied the foundation to the reddened patch of skin, checking her reflection from every angle. Finally satisfied, she applied the rest of her makeup. A few finishing touches to her lip gloss, and she stepped back; careful to stay within the simulated natural light cast by the bulbs that surrounded the mirror. She checked her face, turning from right to left, then back again.Perfect. I think I’ll wear my red-flowered silk today. I like the way the colors of the flowers catch the light and it’s one of Lynnette’s favorites.
Antoinette entered the bathroom as always; consciously avoiding her reflection until all signs of sleep were scrubbed away. After patting her face dry, she looked into the mirror. Scrutinizing her peach complexion, she was satisfied that there was no indication of fatigue.
Not bad. I can work with this. Janelle will compete with me to be Lynnette’s companion today. Only one of us can win and it’s going to be me. I need to pay close attention to my nose though; minimize the bridge. When I don’t get it right, it messes up everything else. Antoinette chose one of the two bottles of foundation on the counter – the one that exactly matched her skin tone. Using quick, brushing strokes, she applied it to her face. The second bottle contained a slightly darker shade, which she smoothed lightly around her nose. She checked her face, turning from right to left, then back again.
Looks good from that angle, and that, and that. Got the effect I want. Regarding her hazel eyes in the mirror, she hesitated over her choices of eye shadow. I know, I’ll wear the green paisley silk dress today and play up the green in my eyes. She chose mint and jade green eye shadows; expertly applying the darker shade then the lighter one. Again she checked her reflection. It’ll do. A little rouge, barely there lipstick; and…perfect.
Dr. Cranston looked up at the sound of the cane approaching his door; tapping, tapping. As the young woman entered his office he asked, “Well Lynnette, with whom am I visiting today?”
Lynnette regarded herself in the mirror slightly above his head. “It’s Janelle, of course,” she answered. “At least that’s what the mirror says – and mirrors don’t lie.” Turning her sightless eyes down toward where she’d last heard his voice, she beamed him a smile.