Culture Shock by Ginger Simpson Page B

mine? You certainly can’t go to my job looking like that."
    "Like what?"
    "Like you just got out bed."
    "I did."
    "I know, and it shows." She looked him up and down. "Although I must say, you did okay picking out a dress."
    "Thanks."
    Cynthia lowered her gaze. "The shoes aren't bad." She looked closer. "Wait! You forgot panty hose."
    "You're kidding, right?"
    "I never go to work with bare legs." She turned and rummaged through a drawer and withdrew a new package of nylons. "Here, put these on."
    Alex groaned and kicked off his shoes. He sat on the bed, tore into the wrapping, and held up the delicate leg coverings. "I don't have a clue how to put these things on."
    Cynthia took them from him and demonstrated how to gather them together. The rough skin of his hands snagged the silky fabric. "Christ, Alex, don't you ever use lotion. Your hands feel like sandpaper." She wrestled with the nylons. "Like this," she said as she handed them to him.
    Not at all used to his new fingernails, Alex did further damage as he mimicked her actions. She grabbed his hands and made him stop. "Take your time, go slow…and about the lotion. Don't let my hands get like these." She rubbed his palms together, creating a grating noise.
    "Yeah, like my biggest worry is hand lotion right now."
    After massive grunts and groans, several attempts and a few more snags, Alex had wriggled his hips enough to get the waist where it belonged. "I never knew what you women go through. I am so glad I was born a male." He dipped his feet back into the shoes. "Satisfied?"
    "Not hardly! Let's do something with that hair."
    He followed her into the bathroom and sat on the commode while she gave him styling instructions. He rolled his eyes and acted like he cared.
    She toyed with one last stray wisp. "Okay, that looks pretty good." She reached for a tall can. "Close your eyes while I spray."
    Alex squeezed his eyes closed.
    Obviously knowing her own hair, she administered a hearty dose of hair spray. "There! It's actually easier to do my hair from this perspective," she said as she stood back and admired the finished product.
    Alex went into a coughing spasm. "Are you trying to asphyxiate me?”
    "Quit complaining. Now, for makeup."
    "Oh, no way!" He tried to stand.
    She used her new-found strength and pushed him down. "There is no way you are leaving this room without at least blush and mascara."
    "Oh Christ ... if I must." He closed his eyes while she worked her magic.
    Cynthia hunched over him as she coated his lashes. "Quit blinking. This isn't as easy as it appears."
    "Why couldn't you be a natural beauty?"
    "Watch it, buddy." She stood back and again surveyed her handiwork. "You look fabulous. A little lipstick and you're good to go."
    "Will that be the last of the torture, or do you have more in mind?"
    "Lipstick and that's it." She handed him a tube. "Pucker up."
    Slump-shouldered, Alex stood before the mirror "What now?" he said through pursed lips.
    "Just apply the color to the lips and then blot them together."
    Alex did as he was instructed. "How's this?"
    "Perfect. Very good for a first attempt."
    "God, I hope it's my last." He turned and looked at her. "Okay, your turn, and take the toilet paper off your face."
    Cynthia sat and let Alex wet and comb his hair. In comparison, it took no time at all. "That's it?" she questioned.
    "Yep. Check it out."
    She peered in the mirror as she peeled the last pieces of tissue from his face. "Okay, so it takes you a lot less time to get ready than me. I'm beginning to think women got the raw end of the deal."
    "It may surprise you, but I think I agree." He followed her into the living room.
    Tension built as the moment of truth drew near. While wringing his hands, Alex gave her a refresher course in what they had already covered.
    "Okay ... remember! Your partner's name is Mike. His wife is Michelle. You're working on the disappearance case. Two dead now, two missing. And don't forget the confidential things I told you