A Tale of Two Pretties Read online

  It was heaven.

  Downstairs, Judi was directing the movers as they carried in the few pieces of furniture that the Lyonses had kept in storage while they lived in the Blocks’ guesthouse. Even from inside her new bedroom, Claire could hear her mother exclaiming that she had forgotten how much she loved, just loved, that end table or that chest of drawers and how she couldn’t wait to see them being used again. Then Jay would add his chorus, Claire would laugh, Todd would get yelled at for breaking something or other, and the whole thing would start all over again.

  It was one of the best days of Claire’s life.

  Once the clothes were hanging in the closet, alphabetized from American Eagle to Zappos, she and Massie turned their attention to the furniture.

  “To be hawnest, you don’t have a lot to work with when it comes to feng shui–ing your room,” Massie said matter-of-factly. She strode over to the single window that faced the backyard and pulled up the white blinds. “You won’t get to see the sunrise or the sunset, which can really upset your inner body clock. And—oh, ew!”

  “What?” Claire, alarmed, ran to join her at the window. She peered outside and squinted against the bright winter sun.

  “There’s some old man standing in his kitchen in a bathrobe!” Massie pointed. Then she quickly closed the blinds. “You know what, on second thawt, forget about the view. We’ll get those sheer curtains I saw in Anthropologie and then we’ll just blow up some photos of the beach in the Hamptons and hang them on the window. Then it’ll feel like summer all year long!”

  Claire furrowed her brow, trying to imagine her mother’s reaction if she hung a poster over the entire window.

  “Well, we can talk about that later,” Massie said, changing the subject, clearly noticing Claire’s expression. “Let’s figure out where to put your bed.”

  “I was thinking here,” Claire said, stepping back against the wall and marking the space next to her closet doors.

  “Perf! Your bed should always face the door,” Massie confirmed, beaming. “That’s what the interior designer who remodeled my room the fourth and seventh times told me.”

  “Great! And what do you think about my desk being right there, below the window?”

  Massie nodded slowly, studying the small space. She and Claire sipped the hot white chocolate Massie had just had delivered for the Lyonses. When Claire pulled the cup away from her mouth, she felt a mustache of white foam covering her lips. Massie burst out laughing, her guffaw echoing through the empty room and down the hallway.

  “What? What is it?” Claire asked, pretending not to notice her face-foam. She mock-patted her face. “Do I have something in my teeth? Am I out of lip gloss?” She stuck her tongue out at Massie, giggling.

  Massie scooped up some of the foam from her own cup and dabbed it onto Claire’s chin. “There, that’s better. Now you look like just like your new neighbor back there!”

  “Gross!” Claire wiped the foam off her face, grinning. She was thrilled to see Massie acting like her old self again. And if it took her wiping 2 percent milk on her face now and then, so be it. She was willing to make the sacrifice. Besides, Massie had once told her that milk cleansers could help clear up the problem spots on her chin.

  Just then the chorus from Katy Perry’s “Teenage Dream” rang out, interrupting their revelry. “Landon!” Massie squealed, lunging toward her bright pink Rebecca Minkoff tote. She pulled out her iPhone and read the incoming text out loud. “ ‘Wish I was in Westchester to be with you for the big party tonight. Happy New Year!’ ” She tossed her phone back into her bag and sighed. “You’re so lucky that Cam doesn’t take the types of vacation that Landon does, Kuh-laire. Being in a relationship with him makes me really appreciate how Brad and Angie stay together. It’s hard being so international. I wonder if it’s holding me back.”

  Claire nodded like she understood. But the most “international” Claire and Cam had ever come was when they biked to IHOP for breakfast.

  “Yooo-hooo!” Layne’s voice floated up the stairs and into Claire’s room. Claire side-eyed Massie, expecting her to roll her eyes or suddenly decide she had something more important to do than hang around with Claire. But Massie stayed where she was, blocking out where the rest of Claire’s furniture should go and taking notes with her new uMove iPhone app.

  “Hi, Layne!” Claire couldn’t stop herself from jumping up and down a few times when she saw her other best friend. How lucky am I? she wondered, glancing between Layne and Massie. One best friend is living with me, and the other lives down the street!

  “Happy move-in day! I brought you a welcome basket!” Layne dumped the basket into the center of the floor and plopped down behind it, pulling out each item one by one. “To begin: a spare key to my house. You can give me yours once you’re settled.”

  “Oh,” Massie said, “I’ll need one of those, too.”

  Layne jangled the key on its keychain and then tossed it to Claire, who caught it in surprise.

  “And of course, some decorations to mark the occasion,” Layne continued, unrolling a roll of purple crepe paper and tossing it across the room. Within seconds, a banner of purple lined the floor. Then she pulled out a big, sparkly, homemade WELCOME TO MY STREET! sign and began taping it to the closet doors.

  Massie golf-clapped before Layne got to the next item in her basket. “That was toe-dally nice of you to drop by, Layne. Thanks for coming!” She pushed her toward the door. “We’ll have you by once everything is more organized.”

  “But—”

  Massie slammed the door behind her.

  “I’ll call you later, Layne,” Claire shouted, eager to get back to the decorating.

  “What kind of budget are we looking at?” Massie asked.

  “Um,” Claire stalled. Somehow, she didn’t think the fifty-dollar Target gift card she’d gotten for Christmas was what Massie had in mind when it came to decorating her—their—new room. She was about to mumble something about how much she liked her old stuff and didn’t need anything new when Todd poked his head inside her door.

  “What, Todd?” she huffed. He took that as a sign to come in.

  “Oh, nothing,” he said, mock-casually. Claire narrowed her eyes. Her brother was up to something.

  He strolled over to Massie. “So I hear you’ll be living with us for a while.”

  Massie didn’t look up as she examined the gold-coated nails she’d had manicured for the Marvils’ party. Todd didn’t wait for an answer before continuing.

  “I just wanted to warn you about how things will work around here in our new house, now that you’ll be sharing a bathroom with me.”

  Claire’s heart starting beating in triple time like it did whenever her brother was about to embarrass her. Massie kept her eyes on her hands.

  “The thing is, I’m a man—”

  Claire snorted.

  “—who likes to take his time in the mornings. The showering, the combing of the hair, the shaving and the aftershave… it all takes time to look this good.” Todd gestured to his Umbro shorts and Yankees tee. Claire snorted again. She could see the hint of a smile curl up on Massie’s mouth.

  “So if you ever have to really go, and I’m in there, just knock on the door, sweetheart,” Todd concluded.

  “Get out, Todd!” Claire ushered her brother out of the room and then turned back to Massie, an apology for being related to him already forming in her throat. But Massie was chuckling softly.

  “Kuh-laire, we are going to have some fun with him while I’m here,” she said mischievously, her eyes flashing.

  Claire grinned, flooded with relief and excitement. She couldn’t believe how well Massie was handling all this—her small bedroom, her non-gourmet snacks, her annoying brother. Living with Massie was going to be even more fun than living in her guesthouse!

  With Massie in such a good mood, Claire decided it was time to mention her Friday night photography class. But “I’m taking pictures of Cam’s band tomorrow. Wanna
come?” came out instead.

  “Sure,” Massie said. “Sounds fun.”

  Claire felt like she could burst, she was so thrilled with how everything was going. Besides, they’d had enough truth-telling for one week, more than they’d had all year. It was time to step off the serious pedal and floor the fun.

  Massie checked her cell phone. “Where is everyone? We only have a few hours to get ready for the party!”

  Claire brushed her bangs away from her eyes and shrugged. Boxes and clothes were everywhere. Why did she ever agree to host the prep-party? She couldn’t even see her floor, let alone her mirror.

  “We’re here!” Dylan burped. Todd thrust one of the two LV suitcases he had wheeled up the steps into the chaos. After he dropped off the other one Dylan smacked a five-dollar bill in his hand and Alicia reluctantly kissed his cheek.

  Kristen came up behind him carrying a stack of garment bags. “Ah-mazing house, Claire! Massie, Old New Isaac just dropped these off for you downstairs.”

  “Sorry we’re late,” Alicia said. She moved out of the way as two movers came in and deposited Claire’s new bed as Massie directed them. When they left, she flung herself onto it and stretched her arms. “Practice took for-ev today.”

  Massie snapped her fingers to get everyone’s attention. “Bring the bags and follow me.”

  Huh?

  The girls did what they were told without question. They had spent years following Massie. And never once had they been disappointed.

  “Where are we going?” Alicia whispered.

  “I have no idea, and it’s my house,” Claire whispered back.

  She led them down the hall, and into the furniture-free office. Inside, the hardwood floors had been Swiffered to a shine, vanilla-scented candles flickered along the window ledge, a floor-length mirror was propped up against the wall, an iPod was loaded, and open cases of makeup, hair accessories, and styling tools had been set up in five stations. A couch cushion for each girl was also available in case she needed to sit and do her nails. “Old New Isaac is on his way back with hot chocolate and snacks. Sugary ones.”

  The girls hugged her like Santa. Claire beamed. So that’s what Massie did while Claire had been snapping family move-in pictures.

  “Let’s focus. Tonight is the party to end all parties. And we have gawt to look better than everyone else there. I’ve taken the liberty of using the money we raised to buy some outfits that will work for us all.” She pressed play on the iPod. Rihanna’s “Pon De Replay” burst forth from the speakers. Ancient? Yes. Sick of it? Never. The girls began speed-clapping with the beat as Massie dimmed the lights.

  “And finally…” Massie handed each girl a pink-and-white Intermix garment bag. “One, two, three, unzip!”

  Squeals and gasps echoed off the bare walls. Massie turned up the music and the girls paraded around in their outfits. There was plenty of noise but not a single complaint.

  “I was inspired by Alicia’s sale tent. We all have our own styles, so instead of trying to make us all look the same, I decided to go with what makes us different.”

  Dylan had a red-hot Herve Leger knee-length dress that would hug her curves like it was made by Porsche. Alicia had a sultry black-and-nude lace minidress, Kristen got silver-and-gold metallic shorts to show off her soccer legs and a sheer blouse, Claire got a blue-gray satin babydoll dress, and Massie had a white sequin dress that shimmered like it was made of ice.

  Apart they looked like individuals, but together they were fabulous.

  WESTCHESTER, NY

  MERRI-LEE MARVIL’S NEW YEAR’S YVES PARTY

  Friday, December 31st

  8:21 P.M.

  “Ahhhhh!”

  Massie exhaled in relief and spun around the main dance floor, her nude Prada peeptoes carrying her to the center platform. She glowed under the strobe lights as she shimmied to the heavy, fast beats that Samantha Ronson was delivering from the DJ booth. She knew that standing in the middle of the main dance floor meant she was currently the center of attention—not only was everyone on the first floor watching her, but so were the guests on the second- and third-floor balconies. And it felt like home.

  One by one, the Pretty Committee joined her, circling around her and getting into the groove like they were channeling Madonna. Alicia’s trademark dance moves rocked her mini, while Dylan’s red curls bounced around, complementing her red Herve Leger dress and catching the light. Kristen’s smooth, high ponytail and winged eyeliner made her look like a sleek, sassy cat in her black shorts. Claire’s satin dress twirled happily around her as she grabbed Dylan’s hand and sang along.

  Her friends looked ah-mazing, Massie knew. But she had to admit she felt extra special in her sequin dress and black diamond jewelry, her brown hair pinned up to give her the look of a Grecian goddess. And in the center of the dance floor, being passed hors d’ouevres from waiters wearing black tuxedoes as the Olsen twins and the cast of True Blood mingled next to her, she felt like one, too.

  Every year, Merri-Lee’s parties got more and more extravagant. This year, the theme was “Haute & Cold Couture,” where the concepts of fire, ice, and fashion were reflected everywhere. Out front, an ice-skating pond had been constructed, where professional skaters welcomed guests with triple lutzes and double axels. Out back, a bonfire and rows of tiki torches kept revelers warm as a live band sang oldies, and fireworks lit up the sky at the top of every hour. And inside, catwalks lined the floors as models walked the runways, wearing red-and-silver Herve Leger dresses and tossing confetti into the air. Everywhere Massie looked, there were famous names wearing designer dresses and suits—standing in line for the buffet stations of hot and cold foods, asking the DJ to play a song, and rifling through the swag bags.

  “Food break!” Dylan announced, grabbing Massie’s hand and pulling the PC to the nearest carving station. She grabbed a tray of sushi and brought it over to the cocktail table Alicia had snagged from Hilary Duff.

  “Best. Party. Ever!” Claire said, her mouth full of brown rice.

  Massie nodded in agreement, stabbing her eel roll with her chopstick and pointing it toward Dylan. “Tell your mom that this year’s theme is toe-dally inspired!”

  “Tell her yourself,” Dylan shrugged. “Here she comes.”

  The PC swiveled their heads in unison as Merri-Lee, clad in a long vintage Calvin Klein and more jewels than Massie had ever seen one person wear, sashayed up to them. “Happy New Year’s Yves!” She pointed to the limited-edition Yves Saint Laurent handbag that was positioned at the top of a large contraption that towered up to the third floor. “Don’t you just love it? We’re counting down to the handbag drop instead of the ball drop this year!”

  Massie smiled in response and briefly wondered how far out of reach the bag would be if she climbed over the third-floor balcony. Then she dismissed the idea. Her dress was nawt made for any physical activity besides shimmying her hips to the music, even though the tote was more tempting than Taylor Lautner.

  Merri-Lee air-kissed each of them before wrapping Dylan in a hug while whispering something in her ear. Massie watched as Dylan’s face grew pale, even under all the NARS bronzer she’d applied at Claire’s. Then Merri-Lee kissed her cheek and floated off to the center stage of the dance floor, leaving traces of YSL Opium in her wake.

  Just when Massie was about to ask Dylan what was going on, the strobe lights dimmed and Samantha turned down the sound. A lone spotlight shone down onto Merri-Lee, who was carrying a microphone and waiting for the crowd to grow silent.

  “Can I have everyone’s attention, please?” Merri-Lee called. Slowly, hordes of people began filing in from the backyard, and Massie had to bob her head around until she found the perfect angle from which to see Dylan’s mother. As long as Ellen DeGeneres kept her head still, she’d be set.

  “First of all, I just want to say a giant thank-you to everyone for coming out tonight!” A cheer rose and Merri-Lee tried her best to blush, but Massie knew it was just her Shiseido L
uminizer. “The new year is a time to reflect on what we see for ourselves in the future—who we want to be, how we can improve, and how anything is possible if we put our minds to it!”

  All around her, guests were nodding in agreement. Massie tried not to snicker. Merri-Lee’s thoughts were about as deep as the temporary ice-skating rink out front. She looked at Dylan, who was still pale and now looked a little sweaty, like she’d been out near the fire pit for too long. She leaned in close to her.

  “What’s this all about, Dyl?” she whispered.

  Dylan’s eyes never left her mother, who was now talking about the importance of family. “She’s about to announce the show and reveal the first episode,” she said dully.

  Massie’s stomach heaved and she put down the next sushi roll she had been about to eat and squeezed Dylan’s arm.

  “With all that said,” Merri-Lee continued. “I have an exciting announcement to make! Tonight, for the first time, I’m finally able to tell all of my closest friends the incredible news…”

  Everyone in the Marvil house leaned forward.

  “My daughters and I are the new stars of the next biggest reality show in television history: Marvilous Marvils!” With a flourish, a screen unrolled behind her, lit up with a promotional shot of Merri-Lee, Jaime, Ryan, and Dylan—all wearing matching Marc Jacobs shirtdresses and Sigerson Morrison over-the-knee boots—and the text Marvilous Marvils: Coming this spring! spelled out at the bottom. The crowd burst into applause and Merri-Lee curtsied on stage.

  “Ehmagawd!” Alicia shouted, barely audible over the noise.

  “You’re going to be a star!” Kristen squealed.