Ann Martin: Baby-Sitters Club 060

Dad shrugged. "Why not?" And that was how I, the New Mary Anne, found myself at the makeup counter of About Face, being fussed over by two women who could have been models themselves.

One of them thought my complexion was a "winter," another was convinced it was a "late spring." They kept holding patches of color against my cheek and nodding or shaking their heads. I had no idea what they were doing.

But I felt great.

By the time I was ready to look in a mirror, they were both grinning widely.

When I turned to see myself, I nearly gasped. I looked about seventeen years old. My cheekbones seemed higher, my eyes seemed wider, and my lips were absolutely luscious. The makeup was exactly right with my new hair.

"Darling, you look like you stepped off the cover of Vogue," one of the women said.

"Thanks," I replied, watching my face turn bright red.

"It's true," said the other. She turned to Dad and said, "What do you think of your daughter?" This time Dad didn't hesitate. "Gorgeous!" he said proudly. "Why don't you write down the . . er, recipe you used." Recipe? I tried not to giggle. With a straight face, one of the women took a pen and a printed Sheet from the countertop. "I'll circle each of the products we used. If you wish to purchase any of them, show the salesperson this sheet and you'll get a twenty percent discount." "Thanks," I said, taking the sheet. I gave Dad a hopeful look.

With a chuckle he said, "Oh, we've gone this far. Why not go all the way?" We bought some blush, eyeliner, and lipstick. I could tell Dad was adding the prices up in his head, but he didn't protest one bit (and, thank goodness; he didn't take out his calculator).

On our way out we heard some jazz from the center court of the mall. "That's a Charlie Parker tune," Dad said.

One thing about Dad. He can be very conservative, but he knows jazz. We took the elevator down and joined a crowd of people watching a five-person group - drummer, bass player, pianist, saxophonist, and a singer.

During a fast tune, I could hear this strange, muffled noise. "Eh eh eh-eh-eh-eh ... eh eh . . ."It was starting to become annoying, until I realized it was coming from the drummer. He was playing with his eyes closed and . . . grunting to the music.

I caught Dad's eye, and we smiled. "Should we tell him?" he whispered.

"Dad!" I put my hand to my mouth, trying not to giggle. What if he heard us?

"Hey, are you as hungry as I am?" Dad suddenly asked.

"Yes," I said.

"For Mexican food?" "Yes!" We went to the Casa Grande and ordered heaping portions of burritos, enchiladas, and other yummy fattening stuff. Then we found a table near the jazz group, so we sat, ate, told jokes, and listened for "Eh-eh." After lunch and jazz we both felt very mellow and slowmoving. We sauntered through the mall, window-shopping and chatting. Dad actually suggested we go into Steven E, but I felt a little guilty because he'd already spent so much money.

"Well, let's just take a look," he insisted.

When we reached the store and saw some of the price tags, Dad's eyebrows arched way up.

A young, well-dressed guy with moussed hair and a flashy smile was walking toward us. "Hi, I'm Steven," he said. "Don't forget, this is our post-season sale. Everything is thirty to sixty percent off the marked price. Browse around, take a look, and .if you need any help, just ask." "Thanks," Dad said.

As Steven walked away, I whispered to Dad, "It's okay, the haircut and the makeup are enough." But I couldn't take my eyes off this outfit. It was a fiery red, off-the-shoulder crepe dress, with shirred sleeves, a fitted bodice, and a skirt that flared to mid-calf. It was the kind of dress the old me would never have dreamed of wearing.

But the New Mary Anne would look great in it for the January Jamboree! Dad, as usual, was reading my mind. "What if we strike a deal," he said. "I'll charge whatever clothes and accessories you need, but you will be responsible for paying me back half, whenever you can." "Really?" "Really." "Okay, it's a deal!" I felt like a kid who'd gone to sleep in June and awakened on Christmas Day. Since half of it was my money, I didn't get everything I wanted. But it was "quite a haul," as my dad said: the dress; some stockings and a pair of shoes to go with it; an oversized, indigo cable-knit sweater; and a pair of floral paisley print Lycra leggings with a French terry top.

Maybe I'd have to baby-sit every day till college to pay him back, but I didn't care. As Dad and I left the mall, we were actually singing songs aloud. What a perfect day. I felt very close to my father.

On the way home we stopped at Uncle Ed's, a Chinese restaurant, and ordered some takeout food for dinner. Even though I could practically still taste my enchiladas, the smell from our takeout bags was making me hungry again.

As we pulled up the driveway, I yanked down the passenger-seat visor to look in the mirror. I saw a tiny smudge of eyeliner by my left eye, which I wiped away. Otherwise, everything was perfect.

"Ready to introduce yourself?" Dad said with a grin.

"Ready!" My heart was beating as fast as Eh-eh's drums. I couldn't wait for Sharon and Dawn to see me.

Dad parked the car in the driveway. I grabbed the Steven E bags, ran across the lawn, and rang the bell.

Dad stepped up behind me. Sharon opened the door and looked me blankly in the face. Dawn stood next to her.

I yelled out the only word that came to mind. "Surprise!" Chapter 6.

Dead silence.

Dead, stunned silence.

And then a whispered, "Mary Anne?" from Dawn.

My stomach was fluttering like crazy. Dawn and Sharon were just staring at me. I wanted to shrink into the ground. Why didn't they say something - anything? Even if they screamed and ran away in terror, at least I'd know how they felt.

The staring probably lasted for all of two seconds, but it felt like two hours. Finally Sharon began to smile. She looked me up and down and said, "Who on earth is this gorgeous movie star?" Oh! She liked it! My flutters fluttered away. I spun around. My new hair whipped gently across my face, then bounced back into place. "What do you think?" I asked.

"You look . . . you look sensational." Sharon said, laughing. "Now, come in! It's freezing out here and you have nothing on your neck!" As we walked inside, I glanced over my shoulder at Dad. He was smiling from ear to ear, and he gave me a wink. Tigger scampered up to me and wound himself around my ankles.

"I'm ... speechless!" Sharon exclaimed. "Why - what made you do this?" "I don't know," I said with a smile. "New Year, new look ... I figured it was time to experiment. I've been thinking about this for awhile, but I wanted to keep it a secret." "And you were in on it, Richard?" Sharon asked.

"Sure," he said. "I was the principal source of funding." We were in the kitchen now, and Dad put the bags of Chinese food on the table. "Anybody hungry?" he asked.

"I am," Dawn said, helping Dad take out the food containers. "What did you get?" "Moo shu vegetables, sesame bean curd, lo mein - and some shelled lobster in oyster sauce, for the carnivores," Dad said, throwing me another smile. "To celebrate." "Ew," Dawn said under her breath, as she opened the round aluminum tin that contained the lobster. With each tin she uncovered, a new, warm, drool-making smell flooded the kitchen. My burrito instantly became a distant memory.

"Help me set the table," Sharon said, "so we can eat before it gets cold. Then I want to hear all about your trip." "Okay," I answered.

I noticed that Dawn was paying a lot of attention to the food. I also noticed she hadn't said a word about my haircut and makeover.

As I started putting plates down, Dad said to Dawn, "So, what do you think of your new stepsister?" "I can't believe you got your hair cut, Mary Anne," she said. "Where'd you go? Gloriana's?" "No," I replied. "You know that place Stacey went to? At the mall?" "You went there? That fancy salon?" Dad chuckled. Ladling food onto our plates, he said, "That fancy salon smelled like rotten eggs and had an equally rotten selection of magazines - but the stylists sure do nice work." ^ We sat down, as Sharon put chopsticks next to three of the plates (and a fork next to Dad's). "I used Stacey's hairstylist," I said. "Then I got a free makeover at this great new cosmetics store, and Dad bought me some of the makeup they used." "They did a wonderful job," Sharon said, studying my face. "Let's see. I'm trying to figure out what they did." I spread out a moo-shu pancake and spooned a little plum sauce on it.