Chapter 1: Happy Birthday, Abigail

Abigail’s POV

I awoke to the familiar “hack! hack!” cough I knew all too well. “Dammit, is that Gus again?” I leaped out of bed and caught the chubby orange cat flexing his entire body in a wave to push his hairball onto the rug underneath my bedroom’s makeup station.

“No, no darlin’, not here!” I wrapped my manicure around his front shoulders to drag him just inches off the pink rug, but it was too late. With his last push, Gus coughed the fattest hairball onto the edge of the rug, leaving a wet stain that would be brutal to clean out of the powder pink fibers.

“I don’t have time for this, Gus!” I poked my diamond earring awkwardly into my ear, winced at the way it pinched the earlobe, but got it in place with my second try. “Anyway, I’m running late, and y’all still need to be fed before I go.”

I rolled up the rug and kicked it toward the neglected dirty towels and washrags mountain that sat outside the bathroom. I could always tell when the towel hamper needed to be washed when I ran out of my makeup rags. My favorite pink lipstick and waterproof mascara stained anything they touched. If I used any more than those same two washrags, Momma would have a fit. I could picture her stepping out of the shower to use kiss-mark-stained towels and screaming "Abigail!" to me across the house. Climbing the laundry mountain would have to wait for after work.

I sat at the now hairball-free dresser and curled my lashes. “Thank God I forgot to wipe away this mascara last night." I thought. The clumpy mascara and the eyelash curler glued my lashes into an impenetrable, delicate curve.

Gus watched me shuffle through my bag to find my favorite lipstick. He was eagerly waiting for me to drop something he could roll around the hardwood floor as a new toy. “Aha, here it is Gus. French Kiss.” Momma hated the name and color of this lipstick, but I loved it. My lips went from boring to bold, luscious pink in minutes. I was careful to follow the middle of my cupid’s bow on my upper lip to create a heart curve fit for a Valentine’s Day card.

I picked up Gus to bring him on my way out of the bedroom. “I don’t have many talents, Gus, but I would bet my whole bank account I could line my lips in the dark if I had to.” Gus blinked at the sight of this crazy woman talking to her overweight cat all morning. “Maybe we should place that bet at triple the amount darlin’. My bank account is barely enough to get y’all your cat food.” I chuckled at my own joke, then set Gus down at the bedroom door to show him his way to breakfast.

Following the bedroom door creaking open, the pitter of twelve paws on wood floors traveled down the hall. Duchess and Peaches were followed by Gus as they skipped behind me during my morning routine. Gus dropped a toy mouse with one of its eyes missing at my feet. “Is this a birthday present or an apology?” I said to him and crouched down to pat his head.

I grabbed my favorite leopard print boots and carried them toward the kitchen, weaving my way through the toy maze the cats made while I was asleep: a plastic ball full of beads that rattled like a maraca as they chased it, a large toy mouse left on the kitchen table after one of them snuck up there when I wasn’t around to scold them to get down, and a rainbow feather boa on a stick with almost none of its feathers left. The cats loved to smack the feathers between their lips and spit them out around the house.

“Mornin’, Momma!” I greeted her as I squeezed past in our tiny kitchen to grab the cat kibble off the highest shelf.

“Mornin’, Abigail,” she grumbled before plopping down on the squeaky kitchen chair.

I poured the cat food too fast, and some pieces of kibble rolled around the kitchen like tiny marbles.

“I’m sorry, Momma! I’m rushing. I’m running a little late!” I leaned on the front door as I pulled one knee-high boot up, then the other.

“Do you have time for an early birthday gift?” Momma handed me a small pink bag with lots of tissue paper sticking out its top. I recognized this gift wrap. It was from the beauty store in the next town over.

“Oh, okay! Real quick, Momma.” I tried to hide my excitement. Did she get me a new eyeshadow palette to try? I hoped it would be nice and pink. The last one I got wasn’t cheap and at the end of its life. I’d have to save a few paychecks before I could replace it.

I pulled a single warm nude lipstick out of the bag. “Wow! You really shouldn’t have.” I reached out to hug her, knowing this would be the easiest way to hide the disappointment in my eyes.

“You’re welcome, Abigail. The nice woman at the store helped me pick a brand that seems popular with the young ladies around your age.”

“That’s lovely, Momma.” I looked past Momma, unable to lie if I faced her straight on. I focused on the cats rolling around the floor behind her in the kitchen and listened to their tails thump on the wood floor. “Is there…is there a reason you liked this color so much?”

“Sweetie, it’s no secret how inappropriate I find that color you’re wearing.” I said nothing, and she continued. “The woman at the store wore all neutral tones on her eyes and lips. It accentuated her natural beauty! You should try that!”

“Yeah, maybe, Momma.” Now more than ever, I was happy to have a late and chaotic morning. I had an excuse she couldn’t dispute. “But I can’t now! I can’t ‘cause… I already did my makeup today. No time to re-do it, I really have to go!”

“Alright, Abigail, maybe tomorrow.”

I gave her a quick hug goodbye. “Thanks, Momma! Love you!” I sprinted out the door and down the driveway. I fished for my keys deeper and deeper into my purse with each step.

She watched me get in my car and from the front door and shouted, “Remember, six tonight is dinner!”

“Yes, Momma!” I answered. She disappeared into the house. I almost forgot my seatbelt but remembered it when I checked my lipstick in the mirror one more time. I puckered my lips and checked that the lines around them were crisp, and then I pulled out of the driveway.