Ledge Walkers Read Online Free PDF Page B

“light and natural."

    My fidgeting finally brought my eyes to Maggie, who sat far removed from the group. She purposefully distracted herself with busy tasks: she fixed her hair, pulled her socks up, tied her shoelaces into perfectly taut bows. But all the while, she oozed extreme discomfort.

    "Hey, humdinger!” I yelled, “Get over here and be someone's guinea pig."

    "No,” she said. “I'm not really into the makeup stuff."

    "That's because you don't need to beyet," Holly remarked. “I mean really! Look at her skin. It's beautiful.
    Perfectly flawless."

    "I agree. Flawless,” Charles said from the stool next to Holly's. “Stay out of the sun, girl! You've been blessed by a different light."

    Okay, they had successfully let her off the hook, but something wasn't right. She had an attitude that did not match simple disinterest. “Come on, humdinger. Nobody's trying to convert you. It's just an opportunity to try something new. I bet Charles will let you use the makeup remover after you get all gussied up,” I said and received vigorous nodding from Charles. Then I added, “Look at me. I'm at Claudia's mercy. She could be making me look like Bozo's whore."

    "Yeah, come on, Maggie. Give it a try. It's really fun,” Alison said, and a few others joined in with encouragement.

    I looked at Susan, who I now realized was as removed from Maggie as Maggie was from the group. Then I instinctively looked to Kris, hoping for her to jump into her St. Mike's sheet and offer a little clinical perspective. At the moment, however, she was more concerned with which shade of peach eyeshadow went better with her lipstick.

    "Humdinger!” I tired once more.

    An angry look swept across her face, and very curtly she said, “It's dishonest."

    "Dishonest?” I asked. I had an idea of what she meant, and I think I asked more to stall as my mind raced to wrap itself around the situation. Push-up bras, three-inch heels, and even sunglasses: there were a million things that were dishonest—and a necessity to the sisterhood. “What do you mean, dishonest?"

    "It's a lie. It's making yourself into someone you're not."

    The room fell completely silent and motionless.

    The same angry look swept over Susan's face, and she asked, “Are you calling us a bunch of liars?"

    "You, Susan, want me to wear makeup for one reason only,” Maggie accused. “And that's because if I wear makeup, people won't be so quick to assume I'm lesbian. You can hide me better then."

    Uh oh!

    In my mind, I imagined shoving worms back into a can.

    "I don't hide you! And I have never once said anything about you wearing makeup!” Susan defended, and I tried to stay on that sacred middle ground, shoving worms instead of stepping on them.

    "Well, I think you do. I've never worn makeup, and I never will. Like I said, I think it's dishonest."

    Here was another one of those moments that perpetually confounded me: I had gotten what I asked for, but now I didn't want it. At the same time, though, there was a part of me that couldn't leave well enough alone. I opened my lips to speak, and immediately Claudia mouthed, “Don't!” and forcefully pushed her makeup brush over my lips.

    Alison jumped in and inadvertently saved me. “I think there are degrees of honesty, Maggie,” she said. “To me it's the inside honesty that's more important than how somebody looks."

    Ginny added, after apparently running honesty lectures through her head, “I don't think any of us could survive in this world being totally honest one hundred percent of the time. Sometimes not even with ourselves. As for me, I started going gray before I hit forty. Now I'm in my fifties without a gray hair on my head. Is that dishonesty or a harmless illusion?"

    "Actually, it's a darn nice color on you!” Charles offered.

    Most of us chuckled. I knew he'd get along with everyone; I did not know he'd be ‘one of the girls’ in so short a time.

    "Maggie,” Holly dared, “if you wore