Chapter 24

Dressed to Depress

"Hey there, sugar baby

Saw you twice at the pop show

You taste just like glitter mixed with rock 'n' roll

I like you a lot, lot

Think you're really hot, hot…"

Muffy was trying to cheer herself up with music as she gave her appearance a once-over in her bedroom mirror. It was almost time to leave for the ball, and there would be little means or opportunity to fix anything once she left the Crosswire estate. She gingerly touched her updo, a twisting mass of cascading curls, making sure that everything was properly held in place, even though she figured it was unnecessary. Flossie had made a house call this morning, and her work was always flawless. She batted her lashes, admiring how long they seemed, their texture almost feather-like. Though she was no stranger to doing her own makeup, she had been tempted to go the extra mile and pamper herself by hiring a professional makeup artist as well, but her mother had sounded so sweet and hopeful when she requested to do it for her that Muffy could not turn her down. Her mother had a makeup style much like hers, understated and elegant, reminiscent of classic Hollywood starlets and the European makeup scene, and Muffy knew she would be in good hands.

"You have such excellent taste, dear," her mother had said fondly as she cupped Muffy's chin in her hand, deftly tightlining her lids with a medium-brown liner. "Nothing wrong with getting a little flashy every now and then, but it's always better to enhance the features you have rather than painting on ones that don't exist. You want people to still recognize you once the makeup comes off, after all… By the way, have you spoken with Chip lately?"

"Chip?" Muffy mused, trying to stay still and not disrupt her mother's hand. She had last texted her brother Thursday afternoon before her tutoring session, a quick "hi" before he went into work and nothing more. It had been some time since she had spoken with him over the phone, so long that it was hard to pinpoint the exact date. She supposed she had been too preoccupied in her plight, hoping for a date to the Autumn Ball. "Not in a few days. Why?"

"Oh, just curious… The last time you spoke, did he seem happy? Living in Belmont and all?"

From the sound of it, her mother had not spoken with him either. Her voice was uncertain, almost nervous, and Muffy made a mental note to text Chip after the ball and tell him to give their mother a call and ease her mind. In the meantime, Muffy would do her best to assuage her fears.

"Oh, I'm sure he's happy. He's just busy with work and his social life."

There was no harm in telling her that much. Muffy was confident her brother's love life would not stay a secret for much longer, no matter how stubborn and weird Catherine was. There was no way she would find a more loving and devoted boyfriend than Chip.

"Social life? Oh… Good."

Thanks to her mother, Muffy's makeup looked perfect. Everything looked perfect, and that included her dress, stitch by stitch the reflection of Lola's dress from chapter twenty of Deadlight. Aubergine in color, the gown draped over Muffy's left shoulder, its skirt reaching toward the floor in layers of languid and gauzy pleats. Just as Lola had described in that unforgettable chapter, she, Muffy, looked youthful and majestic, like an ethereal goddess. The only thing she lacked was an equally-majestic date like Richard, someone to sweep her off her feet and show her the time of her life. Instead, Muffy had purchased her date, and she tried to forget that he would not even be accompanying her this afternoon had his girlfriend been in town. In other words, Buster was just another accessory, and she desperately wanted to ignore just how hollow the fact made this day feel, how hollow it made her feel. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Bailey approaching the open door, and she turned off Lady Gaga as he raised a hand to knock on the frame.

"Master Baxter has arrived, Miss Muffy, but…he requested I announce him as…ahem…'Deuce Bigalow'."

Muffy rolled her eyes. Of course he did. "Thanks, Bailey. Prepare to leave in five minutes?"

Bailey gave a single stiff nod and turned to leave. As he did, Muffy caught a curious flash in her butler's expression, something that seemed as if he wanted to say more but declined to. She checked the time on her Infinity before sliding it into one of the hidden pockets of her dress, another detail the dressmaker had included in the design. It was a quarter till three, just enough time to arrive at the ball fashionably late. Muffy had to hand it to Buster. He was not a punctual person by anyone's standards, and that he had shown up precisely when she had told him to was utterly impressive.

"Maybe today won't be so bad," she said to herself, closing her bedroom door behind her.

Muffy caught sight of her parents when she reached the landing, locking eyes with her father first, who watched her, awestruck. He closed his jaw and beamed proudly at her, then inclined his head toward her mother to whisper something. Her mother nodded and clutched his shoulder affectionately, though there was something tight and strained in her smile that gave Muffy the urge to pause her descent as soon as she had begun it, but she kept going. Since it was far different from the affectionate way her mother had regarded her a mere hour ago in her room, Muffy doubted the odd expression was directed at her. A-class BS-ers who had taught her so much, she knew when her parents were putting up fronts for others, her mother especially. They had done it all too frequently over the past few years, performed a cool and superlative show for the outside world amidst a storm of personal chaos, that it had become easy for her to detect. Her mother's smile was more like the one she sometimes wore when she was displeased with someone or something but was trying desperately to remain hospitable. No question that was what it was, and the realization gave Muffy an instant pit of dread. She did not have to search hard to find the source of her mother's displeasure, however. There it was, the person accompanying the family in the foyer. Muffy heard him before getting a good look at him.

"He-eeere's Johnny!" Buster Baxter called out with an overabundance of mirth, his loud voice reverberating off the high ceiling.

Buster stood at the foot of the staircase, tall and lanky, splayed fingers stretched out toward Muffy as if he were presenting her as a game show prize. He wore a broad, toothy smile as he clutched a small orange box in his other hand. What he was not wearing, to Muffy's shock, to her horror, was a suit. She would have even settled for a nice shirt and tie. Instead, what she had gotten was the elected class clown of MCM in full effect, dressed in black Chucks, black jeans, and a black t-shirt featuring a cartoonish drawing of a tuxedo's lapels, bowtie, and boutonnière printed on the front.

"Buster…" Muffy whimpered, stopping halfway down the stairs, then louder, angrier, "What is wrong with you?"

"Muffy!" her mother said with a gasp, even though Muffy sensed she had been wondering the same thing. "Apologize."

"Sorry," she said automatically. "But seriously, what is wrong with you? Why this?"

Nonplussed by Muffy's reaction, Buster shrugged. "Hey, the dress code calls for semi-formal attire, but no one specifically stated which parts had to be semi and which parts had to be formal." He put both hands on his hips and struck a pose with one knee popped. "I got this little number from Teed Off. Très chic, non?"

"This is a joke," Muffy said. "This is some horrible, horrible joke…"

"I don't think it's all that bad," Buster said defensively. "I put weeks of thought into it before I came up with this visual gag."

"This isn't a prank on me? You mean to tell me you were going to take Ladonna to the ball wearing that?"

At this, Buster looked uncertain. He glanced down at his shirt, stretching out the hem as if he were taking it all in for the first time. His eyes shifted around the room. "I…thought she'd find it funny…"

Her father chuckled at Buster. He leaned toward him and said in a voice that was low and conspiratorial yet still loud enough to hear, "You've got a lot to learn about women, sport."

"Darling?" her mother warned, and he gave an embarrassed flinch.

"Sorry, honey," he told her jovially, but he turned back to Buster and gave him a wink and a smile. "Say, can I interest you kids in a donut before you leave?"

"Yes," said Buster.

"No. We're leaving right now," said Muffy, racing down the remaining stairs. She took Buster by the wrist, spinning him in a half circle as she dragged him toward the front door, calling to her parents over her shoulder, "Love you! Mean it! I'll be back soon! Don't worry," she added through gritted teeth before slamming the door.

"We'll run by your house, and you'll change," she told Buster as soon as they were out of the mansion. "That will cause us to be later than planned, but it'll be worth it."

"I'm not gonna be able to change, Muffy." Buster's voice sounded sincere this time, apologetic.

"Oh, yes, you will, into a tuxedo, a suit—something more appropriate than this. You must have something."

"I outgrew all my nice clothes."

"And you haven't bought new ones? Why?"

"Mainly because I'm lazy and I hate shopping for stuff like that."

Buster took a step back when Muffy growled.

"Perfect," she said. "This is just perfect."

"I brought you a corsage," he offered. "Made it myself. Do you want it?"

Buster held out the box. At this point, Muffy was almost afraid to take it. It would be easy to believe that a small and lovely cluster of miniature roses adorned with ribbon sat inside, waiting to be unveiled, but this was Buster Baxter's doing. She would be a fool if she had not taken a lesson from what had just transpired in the foyer, a complete idiot if she did not expect anything better than ghastly. She opened the lid and peered inside with squinty eyes. It was like trying to soften the blow of a horror movie jump scare. She had been right to do it. The thing inside was almost pitifully ugly.

"What the hell? Leaves and acorns? You strung a bunch of dead leaves and acorns together for me?"

"I strung them together for Ladonna," said Buster. "She loves fall, and I thought she might want to wear something that represents the season, you know, since we were going to the Autumn Ball? I couldn't find something like that at the florist, so I made one for her. Sorry it's not dipped in gold."

Dipping it in gold might have actually made it worse.

"I…can…not…wear leaves and acorns with this dress." She shoved the box back into Buster's hands.

"Suit yourself, Johnny, but do you want everyone to think your date was too cheap to get you a corsage? What if you're the only girl at the ball without one?"

Muffy eyed the box again for a few long seconds before finally giving in. "Give it to me," she grumbled. She snatched the corsage out of the box and fumbled to slide its band onto her wrist. She hoped people would understand that this was Buster's taste and not hers when they looked upon the monstrosity, hoped they would realize this entire disaster of a date was his fault.

Is this really worth it? was her fleeting thought. Is it worth looking like a loser to avoid looking like a loser?

"You really do look nice, by the way," Buster said kindly.

"Oh, shut up and get in the limo."

To be continued…