Green Machine

“Can you keep a secret? I swear Laura Xtreme is a wizard with make-up,” I say as I return from the powder room with an entire roll of toilet paper. “You’ve got to start following her Insta.”

Meghan peels off a giant wad of paper and blows out what has to be the entire contents of her head. I lean over and pull the hair off her face that got stuck in her tears. “This was a bad one, huh?” She nods while I look at her eyes. “Be right back.”

I search her freezer and find a bag of freeze-and-steam stir-fried vegetables that I’m sure she believes she’ll eat one day. When I return, Meghan’s nose has given up all it will, and her tears have run out.

I place the bag of veggies on her eye. “Be careful with ice because if it’s too cold, it’ll make the puffiness worse. Did you ever see those old movies where some guy has a raw steak on his face? Probably not. Weird right? My dad loves any movie that’s black and white, and has guys in uniforms.”

She tries to laugh, but it’s just a puff of air. “And submarines,” she adds.

The pause that follows gives Meghan time to reflect, and the tears start again. “I don’t know what happened,” she whimpers. “I shouldn’t have been looking in his phone.”

“Or at least not told him you were looking in his phone.”

“I just got so upset when I saw his Tinder account. Why would he have a Tinder account?”

She knows the answer; this is their relationship. I don’t need to tell her he cheats on her. She’s caught him. I don’t know how to fix it, so instead, I change the subject. “On the Laura Xtreme website, she sells lots of stuff that’ll help. I love, love, love Green Machine. It covers lots of stuff. And if your skin is a little messed up, it won’t get infected. She sells stuff for that too. Yours doesn’t look too bad, though.”

“How much is it?” Her voice is a little more robust, and the tears have stopped.

“I don’t know, but it’s pretty expensive. He’ll pay for it because he doesn’t want anyone to see it either.”

She sighs. “I…I don’t know.”

“Don’t feel bad about making him pay for it. You wouldn’t need it if he could control himself.”

“You’re right,” she sighs.

“Of course, I’m right. And make sure he sees you tomorrow. And make sure he feels like shit.”

She cracks a little smile. She wants to see him. She wants him to feel something—even if it’s just guilt.

“You know that kickboxing class I take at the gym. There’s no actual class. You can join too. It’ll explain away all this,” I say with a wave of my good hand.

Her uncovered eye widens in surprise, “There’s no class?”

“Are you crazy? You think I get up at five in the morning to exercise? No, I made it up,” I laugh.

She manages a giggle and then winces. Her jaw hurts too. “I’m not going to lie for him anymore. If he doesn’t want to deal with the repercussions of what he did, then he shouldn’t have done it.”

“Are you prepared to leave him?”

“What? No. It was just a stupid fight that got a little heated.”

“If you think you’ll get sympathy…think again. Brace yourself for the chorus of Leave the Bastard. And get ready to forget all your feelings and uproot your entire life to follow their flippant advice, because if you don’t, then obviously there’s more to the story.”

“It’s not the first time,” she whispers.

“Really? You didn’t slip on a patch of ice?”

She manages a little laugh. “That was dumb. It wasn’t even cold enough for ice.”

“What about that time you tripped over your…foot, was it?”

She looks embarrassed, not about what happened, but that she couldn’t come up with a better cover. “I guess I’ll be kickboxing at 5 am,” she says with a sigh.

She pauses for a moment while she relives the incident. “Why didn’t you say anything before? Why didn’t anyone say anything?”

“Like what? Leave the Bastard?”

“Yeah, something.”

“I did. I said if you ever need me, I’m a phone call away.”

“Oh, right. And you’re here.”

“Exactly, here I am. So stop with the pity party. It happened. You’re not leaving, so you need to deal with it. Make sure you sit up. No lying down; it makes the bruising worse. Just get busy, stay upright, and keep it cold,” I say as I walk to my purse.

I flop down on the sofa next to her and start scrolling through my phone. “This is her website. Laura Xtreme Green Machine covers purple like magic. Remember my wedding when I thought wearing a strapless gown was a good idea? That shit covered the marks on my arms and neck. No one noticed a thing. Of course, every hug was torture, but I managed.”