At 60 Aunt Marie was a tall, rail thin impeccably dressed woman with close cropped hair and smooth ebony skin. Her features were narrow with the arched eyebrows and sharp cheekbones of a supermodel. She had carefully painted red lips, a brisk manner and the kind of sharp-eyed gaze that dug into you. She certainly looked the part of the successful executive. Nicole had envisioned a warm welcome but the perfunctorily cheek she was offered in greeting dispelled any ideas she had of bonding.
Marie, as she preferred to be called, lived on the second floor of a beautifully appointed two-bedroom brownstone in Prospect Park. Nicole was offered dinner and quizzed about her parents and her flight. The critical way Marie continuously ran her eyes over her as she spoke, gave Nicole the impression that she did not meet with her approval. For the first time in her life she actually cared what someone thought about her. The feeling rankled, she was not used to feeling intimidated by anyone, but somehow that’s exactly how she felt around Marie!
Nicole was shown to a comfortable room with an en-suite bathroom, huge closet and a view of the nearby park. In the following weeks, Nicole submitted her applications and the wait for acceptance began. Nicole felt confident that she would soon be accepted to the program of her choice, she had no doubt about that.
Marie took her shopping for what she called ‘necessities’. She explained that there were certain things she absolutely needed to have in preparation for her new life in New York City. There was a hint of sadness in Marie’s voice as she said “If you want to be successful here Nicole, you have to look the part, and you absolutely have to change how you speak” she said briskly. “You’d be surprised how far up the ladder you can go if you just appear to belong” she said.
Nicole was astounded at the amount of money Marie casually spent on what did not seem like ‘necessities’ at all! Nicole was outfitted with dresses, coats, boots and shoes from some of the very designers that inspired her. Marie then took her to a salon where a chirpy blonde woman worked magic with a pair of scissors and a few products. Nicole was astounded at her own transformation when she saw herself in the mirror. Her once wild copper mane had been tamed into smooth wavy tresses that framed her face and showed off her brown eyes to perfection.
Overtime Nicole began to feel less intimidated by Marie. She realized that Marie was gruff but not unkind and she showed genuine interest in Nicole’s plans for the future. On weekends Marie took her on tours of the city sights, to museums, art galleries, restaurants, and Broadway Shows. She took her to Wall Street, the Flatiron District, Fifth Avenue, and all the other famous places Nicole had always longed to experience.
Nicole especially loved the Garment District, she felt like she belonged there and imagined her own name embedded in the sidewalk among the greats. She fell in love with the city and was fascinated by the old world ambiance of the Broadway Shows. She imagined for a moment that she was involved in the creation of such fantastic productions and she couldn’t wait to see her own visions come to fruition.
Nicole was extremely grateful for Marie’s kindness, she did more than Nicole had expected. Even her parents seemed surprised when Nicole told them about the ridiculous amount of money Marie had spent on her. She imagined that her presence was probably very disruptive to Marie’s usually quiet life. She also wondered if perhaps Marie was secretly happy to have company other than the co-workers she spent so much time with.
Soon Nicole began venturing out on her own while Marie was at work, she would lose track of time in museums or exploring the city. She always made sure she dressed well, Marie’s words became her mantra – If you want to be successful here Nicole, you have to look the part. Of course she felt a little homesick now and then; especially at nights when she missed the comforting croak of the tree frogs. Although a quick call home always helped to dispel the mood, her parents were always happy to hear of her adventures.
Some afternoons she took her sketch pad to the park and spent hours sketching designs or portraits of passersby. One such afternoon while she was lost in concentration, someone suddenly plopped themselves down on the park bench beside her. She looked up in surprise into the eyes of a stranger…
To be continued…
