Face Time with a Gemini

There was a post that inspired this story.  It was called: “I have tried to talk to her so many times that I’m sick of hearing my voice.”  You may find it with this link.

Beach at Humboldt Bay – January 14, 2015 Late Afternoon in Winter

 

“You’re looking fine today, June.”

“Thanks, May. You look pretty good yourself. I like the way you did your hair. And that new eyebrow pencil color is a much better match. What’s on for today?”

“Gotta return that book to the library. Then we’re off to the bookstore. You wanted a copy of Dreama’s book. The library didn’t have it, but we might be able to find it at the bookstore. Maybe a quick stop at the mall, then we’ll make a final stop at Safeway. After that, home again.”

“Want to go out for lunch? I could go for some sweet potato fries.”

“You know I can’t tolerate the grease. Butter hurts my stomach a little, fries hurt it a lot, and if I ate a doughnut, it’d probably kill me. I gotta eat at home. That way, I can control what goes down so it doesn’t come up.”

“Bummer. I wanted to go out to lunch. You’re no fun anymore.”

“You can always stay home, June.”

“Well, hell, I think I will, then. But, May, if I don’t go will you get the book for me?”

“Of course, June, Dear. If they have it, you know I will.”

*  *  *  *  *

“Is that you, May?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec. Gotta take the dog out.”

“Jesus! Whatever did you do with your hair?”

“Oh, I went to the mall chop shop. I thought they’d do it better than the beauty college.”

“Well, now you know. What a disaster!”

“Oh-my-God! I didn’t think it was this bad!”

“Well, May, get the scissors and I’ll help you fix it. If you insist on going the cheap way, you might as well cut it yourself from the get-go rather than be forced to straighten out a mess like this.”

“Damn it, June! Take it easy on me. I do my best. It’s getting hard for me to stand for a long time, and cutting it myself takes at least an hour. The arthritis in my shoulders will act up something awful for days afterward.”

“Why don’t you go to a decent salon? You’d think you’d have learned your lesson by now.”

“Well, June, Dear, I have no budget for a salon. I don’t even have a budget for the damned mall people who cannot get it right and then I have to come home and do their job all over again. But, you know how long hair is on me. It was great when I was young and beautiful, but not so any more. I’m stuck doing it this way every five or six weeks. Now, shut up so I can concentrate. If I can get the back right, the rest will be easy.”

“The back looks fairly good, Dear. Maybe it won’t be too difficult to save.”

*  *  *  *  *

“Another shot with the curling iron above your right ear. There, May, that’s a fine job.”

“And a very good haircut, if I do say so myself.”

“Good thing you had so many sisters. Lots of practice.”

“Yeah, I can remember some very short bangs, and some very crooked ones, too. The crooked bangs were the ones I always wore.”

“I remember them well. The way you do them now is far better.”

“Thanks, June, for the nice compliment.

*  *  *  *  *

“What’s the matter, May, nothing good on TV?”

“Nope. I took the dog out and now I’m going to bed.”

“Okay, let’s go through the list. Wash face. Check. Eye meds. Check. Stomach meds. Check. Floss teeth. Check. Brush teeth …

“Where’s the toothpaste, June?”

“It’s where it always is, Dear. Right where you left it.”

“Oh, there it is.”

“See. Didn’t I tell you?”

“See you tomorrow?”

“Of course, May, I’ll be here for you always. Right here in your mirror.”

“Good night, then.”

*  *  *  *  *