Perfect Girl - Weebly

Lilah impatiently asks, “What size?”
Frankie laughs. “Yeah, Ruthie. What size is your ass?”
“Ruthie?” I hear a voice behind me.
Like the Red Sea parting, the racks of underwear seem
to float aside to make room for Aunt Marty. She smiles
serenely, even after Frankie bursts into hysterical giggling.
Celeste, acting all mature, holds her hand out and says,
“You must be Martine.”
“I’m Ruthie’s aunt Marty,” Aunt Marty says, shaking
Celeste’s hand.
Celeste adds, “You look so much better than your picture
in Fabrique.”
“Thank you,” Aunt Marty replies. “I think.”
Lilah says, “Oh my God. It’s you. I read you every
month! I can’t believe you’re in Dover!”
“Sometimes I can’t believe it, either.”
Frankie, still tittering, elbows me.
“Oh yeah,” I say, “this is Frankie.”
Blushing, Frankie over-shakes Aunt Marty’s hand. With
the four of us chest deep in underwear, I say, “I’m almost
done here. We can go soon.”
“Go?” Aunt Marty asks.
Like ducklings imprinted on her, Celeste and Frankie
echo, “Go?”
Even Lilah says, “Go? You just got here!”
“Well . . . I—”
What can I say? That I came for delicious-secret
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