Beauty at Any Price
At this product party from Hell, there are no limits
Maura didn’t normally go to stuff like this. She hated sitting on someone’s sofa in their Pinterest-y living room making nice and drinking wine while the host tried to sell her clothes, or jewelry, or Bundt cake pans.
But this time the host was Iris Lowry who had not given Maura the time of day since their girls were in kindergarten. Iris was recently divorced, as Maura had been a year ago. She wondered if the invite was Iris’ way of finally making nice with a kindred spirit.
Also, Iris was loaded. And Maura wanted to see how the other half lived.
So Maura sat on a sofa in a living room that was way more Architectural Digest than Pinterest while she drank champagne. There were a few moms from school — Sara Berryman and Kiki Watson were the only two who had ever been pseudo friendly — along a number of women she didn’t know.
Divorce agreed with Iris. She was luminous in a peachy silk caftan and skinny dark jeans. The product rep was even more sleek and stylish in a tuxedo of sorts. The heels on her black stilettos could have doubled as needles.
It was still unclear to Maura what was being sold — she’d been told it was a beauty line called Iuvenis — but there were no jars or bottles. Instead, the tuxedoed woman pulled iPads from a black suitcase.
“Alright ladies, let’s get going.” Iris lightly clapped her hands. “Lucy has to catch a flight to New York. I begged her to fit us in because I heard from so many of you after last time. We have a lot of new Iuvenis devotees it seems.”
“Absolutely,” said Kiki, taking the tablet that Lucy offered her. The other guests all seemed to know what to do, except for one woman by the piano who appeared equally confused.
When Maura got her iPad the screen showed a red “I” on a black background and a timer of sorts — a countdown. Maura did not imagine the excitement or the anticipation from this previously nonplussed crowd.
She wished she was comfortable enough to ask someone for help. It felt a bit like cheating, but she edged closer to the auburn-haired woman next to her to hopefully glean some pointers.
“For those of you who didn’t register your credit card number ahead of time please do so now,” Lucy chirped. Maura couldn’t remember if she had. “We go live in one minute.” The woman beside Maura inhaled sharply.
Maura’s screen morphed to show some kind of e-commerce site. There were photos — no, live videos — of girls sitting in rooms. Each was identified by a number. Many of them looked frightened and dirty.
Everyone except for Maura and the woman at the piano tapped furiously on their screens. They made eye contact and telegraphed the same question. Just what in the hell is going on?
Sara Berryman let out a little yelp of pleasure. Maura couldn’t help but stare at her. Sara looked like she’d just had a facelift, minus the pull around the mouth and eyes. It was incredible.
Maura scanned the room. The fountain of youth had found them all. She was so shell-shocked she’d forgotten the iPad. When Maura looked down again she almost couldn’t process what was in front of her.
Girl after girl was desiccated, eyes going from fearful to listless. Some lay down on the floor. Others looked at their hands and legs. Some cried.
“What is this?” The woman at the piano was brave enough to ask the question out loud. “Who are these girls?”
“They are your salvation,” Lucy told her, cheerily. “They are your life. Collagen on demand.”
“What’s happening to them?” The woman was angry and scared, just like Maura.
“What it looks like.” There was an edge now to Lucy’s voice. “What you came here for.”
“Those are somebody’s babies.” The woman’s voice trembled. “Human beings.”
“No one will miss them.”
Lucy smiled and for the first time, Maura saw the forbidding glint in her eye. “Not the poor, desperate parents who sold or lost track of them. Not the authorities. Not even their roommates. They are made from dust and to dust they will return.”
“This is madness.” She threw down the iPad and stalked toward the foyer. “What is wrong with you?” She glared at Maura. “With all of you?”
“I’m so sorry.” Iris turned to Lucy in a sweetly conciliatory tone. “I vetted Alex. This is a surprise.”
“This is an abomination.” Alex was almost to the door when she stopped as if jerked by a string. She whirled around in impotent rage as Lucy tapped at her own iPad.
They watched Alex shrivel up like a winter leaf. Her skeletal frame teetered for a few steps before she collapsed on the marble floor. Two men in gray suits emerged to scoop the remains into a burlap bag.
“Well, that was unfortunate,” Iris said, but a self-satisfied smirk tugged at her mouth. “I’m assuming there won’t be any more issues?”
All eyes fastened on Maura. She quickly looked back down at the iPad to see a girl a few years younger than her daughter. The girl rocked back and forth on the floor. Then she was still.
After it ended, Maura stood behind Kiki, chattering away with her group. She gazed at her hands, turning them this way and that.
“I hope Iris does another one before the holidays. We’re going to St. Barts you know.”
At the door Iris took Maura’s hand and drew her in for a dry kiss.
“I saw how tired you’ve been,” she said. “It must be so hard on your own. I bought you a little something. Maybe next time, you’ll treat yourself.”
In the car mirror, Maura looked at her neck — now free from creases. There was an empty fast food bag on the floorboard. She threw up in it.
Betsy Denson, 2021
Thanks for the prompt Zane!
