Kate did as she was told. A few minutes later, she got out of the shower, dried off, and got dressed again.

Tully immediately grabbed her hand and led her back to the chair. “Is your hair falling out?”

“Some is,” she admitted.

“If you’re bald, I’ll shave my head. Promise.” Tully combed and dried Kate’s hair.

Kate couldn’t look. She closed her eyes and let Tully’s voice meld into the whine of the dryer.

“Open your eyes.”

Kate looked up slowly. At this distance, she didn’t need her glasses, but force of habit made her lean forward. The girl in the mirror had straight streaked blond hair, parted with precision and dried perfectly. For once it looked soft and pretty instead of thin and lank. The white highlights showed off her leaf-green eyes and the hint of pink on her lips. She looked almost pretty. “Wow,” she said, too choked up with gratitude to say more.

“Wait till you see what mascara and blush can do,” Tully said, “and concealer for those zits on your forehead.”

“I’ll always be your friend,” Kate said, thinking she’d whispered the promise, but when Tully grinned, she knew she’d been heard.

“Good. Now let’s go on the makeup. Have you seen my razor?”

“What do you need a razor for?”

“Your eyebrows, silly. Oh, there it is. Close your eyes.”

Kate didn’t think twice. “Okay.”

Kate didn’t even bother to hide her face when she came into the house. That was how confident she felt. For the first time ever, she knew she was beautiful.

Her dad was in the living room, sitting in his La-Z-Boy. At Kate’s entrance, he looked up. “Good Lord,” he said, clanking his drink down on the French provincial end table. “Margie!”

Mom came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. She wore her school-day uniform: striped rust and olive polyester blouse, brown corduroy bell-bottoms, and a wrinkled apron that read: A WOMAN’S PLACE IS IN THE HOUSE . . . AND THE SENATE. When she saw Kate, she stopped. Slowly, she untied her apron and tossed it on the table.

The sudden quiet brought Sean and the dog running into the room, tripping over each other. “Katie looks like a skunk,” Sean said. “Pee-ew.”

“Go wash your hands for dinner,” Mom said sharply. “Now,” she added when he didn’t leave.

Sean grumbled and went upstairs.

“Did you give her permission to do that to her hair, Margie?” Dad said from the living room.

“I’ll handle this, Bud,” Mom said, frowning at Kate as she crossed the room. “The girl across the street do this to you?”

Kate nodded, trying to hold on to the memory of feeling pretty.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

“Well. Me, too, then. I remember when your Aunt Georgia dyed my hair red. Grandma Peet was livid.” She smiled. “But you should have asked. You’re still young, Kathleen, no matter what you girls want to be true. Now, what have you done to your eyebrows?”