Step Ladders

by Lydia Daffenberg

This is a short story I wrote a few years ago. Although "image" is the overall theme of Step Ladders, I've recently heard some real-life stories of financial hardship that remind me of other aspects of this story. Step Ladders seems an appropriate contemporary social commentary.

Priscilla pulled her Berreta up to the curb. She wished she would have been able to keep the Grand Prix after Harold’s death, but the payments were out of the question without his paycheck. She could barely hang on to the house at this point. Her car looked out of place alongside Suzie’s Cadillac, Betty’s Lexus and April’s BMW. Priscilla was glad she had decided to wash the car on her way here. That helped appearances, at least a bit. She stepped out, smoothed her skirt and picked off several cat hairs from her top. She reached into the back seat and grabbed her canvas bag, which held a notebook, several different colored pens and her weekly planner. Hearing the low rumble of a car approaching, Priscilla peered out the back window. Sharon parked her Taurus behind Priscilla and stepped out.

“Hey, Priscilla! You ready for some party planning?”

Priscilla straightened and pushed the car door shut. “Sure. How are you doing? What happened to your bug?”

“Those Volkswagens! They usually have to special order parts. They gave me this clunker to drive until next Wednesday! I hardly handled the trip here from the dealer, let alone having to use this car all week. I think the muffler’s going.”

Priscilla forced a smile. They both headed toward the door while Sharon continued complaining about the Taurus. Priscilla pressed the doorbell and smoothed her skirt again.

April opened the door and squealed. “Sharon!" She set 3 year old Brittany on the white tile floor and grabbed Sharon, vigorously hugging her. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you! April turned toward Priscilla. “And how are you doing?” she asked in a plastic sympathetic tone, her head cocked to one side.

“I’m fine, April.”

“How are the kids doing?”

“They’re fine also--we’re all getting along just fine.”

“Well, if you ever need anything, don’t you dare hesitate to call--OK?”

“Thanks, April, that’s very kind of you.” It seemed that after Harold died, April got even more enjoyment out of asking how things were going. She had always treated Priscilla that way--knowing that Harold’s chosen career as a body mechanic didn’t quite measure up to her Howie’s position at the bank. Of course, it didn’t help that Howie happened to be their mortgage broker, and had obviously filled April in on their financial history--including the bankruptcy and remortgage. Howie certainly didn’t have any patron/broker privacy oath to follow, and it showed in how April treated her. “You look great, April,” Priscilla said, and she meant it. She always did--spotless outfits with matching earrings, hairband, lipstick and nailpolish, a Stepford wife.

“Thanks, Priscilla. Come on in, gals!” April guided Brittany to the living room where Suzie and Betty’s girls were playing. She paused at the doorway. "Now, Brittany, you be nice and share your toys--okay?" April continued into the dining room where Suzie and Betty sat at the table cutting out felt shapes of pumpkins and black cats.

“Look who’s here!” April gestured toward Sharon and Pricilla, announcing their arrival. She cleared felt from two more spots at the table. "Ladies, come--sit down." Sharon and Pricilla sat down at the table. Priscilla took a notebook and pen out of her bag. April sat at the head of the table and began the meeting.

“I’m glad we all know each other from last year--that way I can avoid formalities. We need to do some planning for all the parties this year, but especially for the Halloween party coming up. What Suzie and Betty are working on is our first craft item of the year.” April reached across the table and picked up a felt pumpkin and cat cutout. She pinched them between her french-tipped fingernails displaying them to everyone. “I had this great idea of having the kids decorate picture frames during the party, then one of us takes a picture of them in their costume. They can bring it home as a gift for their parents. Suzie and Betty will cut out the shapes. What we still need is an instant camera and picture frames. Any ideas?”

“I have a Polaroid at home.” Sharon directed her words toward April. “Lots of film for it too--my uncle used to work for them.”

“Wonderful! That just leaves us with the frames. That’s going to be the most expensive part. I was thinking of sturdy cardboard ones.”

“I can get those,” Priscilla said. Everyone looked at her.

“You have some at home?” April asked.

“No. I’ll pick them up.” Suzie and Betty busied themselves with their shapes and Sharon raised her eybrows at April.

“Um, they’re probably going to be pretty expensive--we need 29 of them,” April said, looking uncomfortable.

“Maybe we should all pitch in.”

“No, that’s OK. I can handle it. Really.” Priscilla jotted down “frames” in her notebook.

“OK, well, if you find out they’re too much, let me know and I’ll collect a few dollars from everyone. No need to spend all your money on third graders!”

“Don’t worry, I won’t be spending all my money.”

“OK. Well, great! That’s taken care of. Do you all want to go into the sunroom? I have cucumber sandwiches and iced tea for everyone. Then we can plan the games and discuss ideas for the other parties.”

All the ladies followed April into the sunroom. Dainty mini-cucumber sandwiches dotted a doily-covered glass tray which, of course, complemented the crystal pitcher. Fresh sprigs of mint from April’s herb garden decorated each sandwhich. The ladies chatted about teachers, husbands and recipes. They periodically paused to redirect wandering toddlers back to the toys in the living room. The next expected topic was somewhat delayed--at least it seemed to be to Priscilla.

“Your Halloween vest is sooo adorable, April,” Suzie said. Priscilla sat back in her chair, smiling to herself, more about her correct premonition than for any other reason.

“And, I don’t know how you do it,” Betty added, “your accessories always match! You’re like a Barbie doll!” April just grinned. The fact that she didn’t blush led Priscilla to believe it was because such comments had become commonplace to her by now.

“You should try shopping with this girl!” Sharon said. “She’s been a godsend to my wardrobe--always points out the perfect outfit.”

“Your nail color and lipstick are great,” Betty said, “they really pull out the orangey color in your vest.”

“Thanks,” said April, “It’s one of the new colors in Estee Lauder’s fall line. It’s called Burnt Autumn. I liked the name almost more than the color--I had to get it. Everything’s in dark earth tones this fall--have you noticed?”

“Now April,” said Suzie, “you know that most of us don’t notice those types of things--not like you do.” Suzie looked toward Brittany peeking around the edge of the door. “I bet little Brittany here is going to be a real fashion diva when she gets older.” Brittany ran over to her mom and buried her face in her lap. April patted her on the back and smiled.

Priscilla spoke up, “I’ve been watching several fashion shows on the entertainment channel lately. I did notice that there's a lot of subdued color in this fall’s line up. Really weird greens, too. I just bought Meagan a great outfit with dark forest green flares. She loves it. I’ve been thinking of getting a few new pieces myself to add to my basic wardrobe.” Priscilla noticed her chipped red nail polish as she tapped her glass, and placed her hands on her lap under the table. She looked over at Brittany, who was looking at her, and smiled. “Excuse me, I need to use the washroom.”

Priscilla walked down the hall and into the bathroom. Even in the bathroom everything was in its place, just as she had expected. Pricilla looked into the mirror and noticed that the third button of her shirt was missing. Her faced blushed and she pulled open the drawer under the sink. She dug around through bobby pins and combs, finding a small gold safety pin. Reaching into her shirt, she pinned the gap from the inside as best she could. She checked the rest of her outfit, double checked it and pulled some lint off from her skirt. She heard a noise and looked up. There was Brittany, looking at her through an open crack of the door. She stared at Priscilla with wide eyes. Priscilla’s smile returned. “Hello, sweety.”

“Are you an actress?” Brittany asked.

“No, dear, I don’t like to pretend.” Priscilla walked by Brittany and back into the sunroom. The ladies continued to laugh and gossip until April redirected the group back into the dining room to finish up their meeting.

***

Priscilla walked into the mall and looked over the floor map that stood near the entrance. She tapped her fingers on the hard plastic floor plan and smiled. Her freshly polished red nails traced hallway C to store 23B--Frank’s Nursery and Crafts’ location. She tugged down on her blazer that was riding up just high enough to see that it was a bit snug-fitting, with buttons and button-holes pulled taught so that the buttons threatened to pop off at any moment. Switching her purse to her other hand, she headed in the store's direction.

She entered the store smiling at the checkout clerks. Walking by them, she continued into the craft section of the store. She began at the first aisle and looked down each one as she walked. She stopped and turned down aisle 5, where her friend Pam was working at straightening items on a shelf. “Pam! Hi there!” Pam looked up at her.

“Oh my gosh, Priscilla, what are you doing here? You’ve never been in here before, have you? I can’t imagine you in a craft store. I haven’t talked with you in a few months--since the funeral. How are you and the kids doing?”

“Oh, I’m managing. I was out looking for cardboard picture frames for a craft item we’re making for Sam’s Halloween party. I’m one of the room moms.”

“Glad to see you’re keeping busy. We have some, let me show you.” Priscilla followed Pam into the third aisle. “There's several types but here’s the cardboard ones we carry. We have 4x6’s and 3x5’s. They’re white--is that OK?”

“Oh sure. The kids are going to decorate them, so it doesn’t matter much what color they are. I think I’ll need the 3x5’s. I don’t see a price, do you know how much they are?”

“Let’s see, I was just stocking these earlier and didn’t price them yet.” Pam paged through a thick book filled with abbreviations and numbers. “They’re $2.50 each.”

“Oh my, I didn’t think they’d be that much--I need 29 of them!" Priscilla paused, shifting her weight to her other foot. "Do you remember how you got your sister a twenty-percent discount that one time? I was kinda hoping you’d be able to help me out, too.”

“Gosh, Priscilla, I wish I could. That’s only applicable to family members. But, you did say that this is for Sam’s school, right? You should be able to waive the tax if you tell the girl at the register what it’s for.”

“Don’t you work the register sometimes?”

“Yes, sometimes.”

“Is there any possibility of you checking me out and slipping me that twenty-percent discount? I just don’t have that much cash on me and I’m not sure how much I have left on my card.”

“I’m really sorry. I can’t do that. I’m working on being promoted to assistant manager and I really don’t want to take any risks. You understand, don’t you?”

“Oh, of course! Don’t be silly. I’m sorry I mentioned it.”

“You know, we should get together for dinner soon! You could bring Sam and Meagan over. The kids can play and you can play poker with Bob and me. It’d be fun.”

“Sure, give me a call.”

“Well, I better get back to work, I’ll call you soon. It was great seeing you. If I get that position, don’t be shy about coming in and applying. I’ll hire you, guaranteed! It’s a good part-time job.”

“Thanks, Pam. I’ll keep that in mind. Talk to you soon.” Priscilla walked up to the register. She smiled at the checkout girl. "Hi. This purchase is for the school--I was told I could get the tax waived?"

"Sure. Just fill this out." The clerk pushed a form toward Pricilla. "Sign on the bottom." The total came to $72.50. Priscilla sighed, dug her visa out from her purse and handed it over, hoping the purchase would fit on the card. She breathed another sigh, this time out of relief, when she heard the machine begin to click and print out the receipt. She signed for it, took the large bag from the girl and left the store, headed in the direction she had come from.

Once she reached the floor map, she paused. She turned and looked at the map again and tapped her red nails on the plastic. She headed in the opposite direction of where Frank’s was located. Her pace quickened when she spotted the Lord & Taylor sign.

Priscilla entered the department store and looked around. She walked up to the makeup counter and selected a tube of lipstick from the display case. “Estee Lauder!” she exclaimed, louder than her normal tone. She scanned the floor for attention. A lady nearby looked over at her and smiled, returning her attention to her purchase. “I just love Estee Lauder, it’s simply the best cosmetic line around--don’t you agree?” She directed the last of her statement toward the counter girl approaching her.

“Oh, yes, ma’am, it is a nice line. Can I show you something?”

“I’m in the mood for a change in my usual lip color. Could you show me some shades from the new fall collection?” None of them would suit her, and she knew it. She placed her shopping bag on the floor.

“Let’s try Pale Champagne,” the girl behind the counter chimed, clearly excited to have a customer to wait on. Priscilla took the tube from the girl, drew a line of color on the back of her hand, considered it for a moment, then pushed the tube back at the girl.

“No, that’s definitely not for me.”

“Okay, um, how about this one? Spiced Rum.”

“Ooo, well it sounds good now, doesn’t it,” she hesitated slightly noting the gold name tag pinned to the girl’s smock, “Penny?” She smiled at her, and Penny, in turn, smiled back. Priscilla pulled a tissue from the box sitting on the counter and, after wiping off the lipstick, applied the new shade, again musing about the tone not being quite right. “Nnno, I don’t think this one’s right, either.”

“This one’s called Burnt Autumn--it’s one of our most popular new colors.” They exchanged tubes and Priscilla repeated the wiping and applying of lipstick colors.

"No, this is much too dark for my porcelain skintone. Now, what are those?” Priscilla pointed to an array of tubes behind the girl.

“Um, they’re not Estee Lauder--”

“That’s okay, I’ll look at some of those,” came Priscilla’s quick reply.

“Okay, let me see . . .” Penny turned and bent down to where the tubes were lined up on a shelf. The tissue Priscilla held in her hand became camouflage for the tube that remained beneath it, and she reached for another tissue using it to wipe off the third color from the slightly stained blotch that now remained on her test hand. Penny straightened and turned back toward Priscilla, carrying several tubes of lipstick. She selected one and opened it, handing it to Priscilla while telling her all about the highlights of this particular line of cosmetics and something-or-other about animal testing--or the lack thereof, but Priscilla was no longer interested in the particulars of lipstick.

“You know? I think I’ve changed my mind. I think I should stick to my usual color after all. I forgot how difficult it is to find just the right one.”

“Well, ma’am, perhaps it’s that red blazer of yours. It’s hard to match any color other than red with red.”

“Perhaps you’re right. Maybe I should try again when I’m wearing a different color. But thanks for all of your help, Penny.” She smiled at the girl and, with her palm down, handed her the decoy tissue. “Can you get rid of that for me?”

“Sure. I’m sorry you couldn’t find the right shade.”

“Don’t you think twice about it, dear.” Priscilla was flashing her biggest smile yet as she, in one swift move, dropped the wrapped tube into the bag, grabbed its handles, and turned and strode toward the store’s automatic doors.