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Beautiful
if I was beautiful like you, oh the things I would do
if I was beautiful like you, I would never be at fault
if I was beautiful like you, I'd be quick to assume
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Somehow we made it through the mass of humanity in the parking lot, all three guys waved and smiled at the crowd of girls (I sat there scowling at Taylor, I was definitely not living this one down for a long, long time), found the appropriate entrance to the parking terrace (after almost pulling through the exit lane with the tire puncture guards) and found our way to the service elevator (which I might add was very well hidden in the very back corner of the parking lot, we drove around about 7 times (okay, maybe only 2, but it was really early and I wanted to be as far away from Taylor as I possibly could) before any of us noticed it).
A woman of about 28 was waiting for us. As Isaac, Taylor and Zac stepped out of the van she smiled an amazingly white and toothy smile, as I stepped out of the van, she looked at me with an air of disapproval. She stood there in her business suit and high heels with her hair done in a perfect French twist (you know the kind, with the wispy curls all around her face, definitely a high maintenance hair style) and the most amazing and intricate makeup job I’d ever seen (she even had on at least two different shades of lipstick graduating from a pale pink to a deep red, I don’t think I even own two lipsticks). I, on the other hand, was dressed in boxers and a wifebeater with a soon-to-be-too-hot cashmere sweater (which I couldn’t take off, ‘cause the wifebeater was a little bit sheer being stretched over my chest and well, my lime green bra was sheer, so, unless I wanted my nipples to make a return appearance, the sweater was staying on) and an old pair of Doc Martens, my hair was curly and wild from going to sleep straight from a shower after our midnight swim and I don’t think I’ve put on makeup since we hit the road. She was beautiful and glamorous, almost supermodel gorgeous and I was just cute and homespun, literally the girl next door.
All three of the guys stood looking at her with an almost reverent look on their faces, boys are such suckers for fussy high maintenance girls. Did they honestly think she rolled out of bed looking like that? Well, she probably did, but in my fantasy, she looks a lot like me when she first gets up. “Hello, my name’s Cassandra Beauregard and I’m the promotions director for 102.7, the largest market radio station in Dallas.” She said in a flawless southern accent shaking each of the boy’s hands. Man! Even her manicure was relentlessly perfect. How in the world did she get anything else done besides constant primping? “We’d better head up to the studio so you can make sure all the arrangements are alright. Where is your Father? I thought you boys always traveled with your family.”
“Well, usually we do, but our mom had pretty extensive knee surgery right before we left on tour, which pretty much precluded her traveling with us.” Tay said surreptitiously taking in her knock out body. I could tell by how pink his cheeks were, he was enjoying the sight. Taylor had turned on his charm to full blast; this woman didn’t stand a chance. He smiled his most amazing (and very expensive) dimple laden smile. “Crutches on a tour bus would be wholly unworkable.”
“And, our dad stayed behind to help with the younger kids.” Ike said slinging his arm around my shoulders. “So, instead of our parents, we have the next best thing. Cleo is our assistant, but mostly she keeps us occupied so we don’t get into too much trouble.”
“Hmm.” Cassandra said looking down her nose at me. The truth was I would have gone on tour anyway. As soon as I finished my masters’ degrees a year and a half ago, Diana had hired me to tutor Zac and the younger kids. When I first graduated, I dreamt of going far, far away from Tulsa, someplace wild and exotic like New York or Los Angeles or high up in the mountains like Salt Lake City, but I had gotten a job in the house next door to mine. I have seen all of those places (and many, many others) thanks to my job, but I still lived in Tulsa. Now, that is what I call an unplanned irony. Well, I guess teaching the Hanson family was better than being abused by a bunch of students who don’t know me. Now, I get to be abused by a bunch of kids I know fairly well. Actually, they were really well behaved and all very excited at the prospect of having a new teacher. I adored the four youngest Hanson’s they were sweet and rambunctious. Zac told me I was not as strict as his mom. Even Ike and Tay listened in on various history and English sessions. They’re smart boys and would have done extremely well in a higher education setting. But Zac, he was a genius. I was constantly amazed at his insight and ability to learn.
“You look familiar.” Zac said as we all got on the service elevator. Ms. Beauregard had yet to address me directly although I had spoken to her on the phone not even 10 minutes earlier, it was all she could do to acknowledge my presence. “I mean, eerily like someone I should know.”
“I was Miss Texas seven years ago, but that’s before your time. Do you boys watch football?” She asked. They all nodded. “Well, I spent the last 4 football seasons as a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader.”
“Really?” Zac’s face lit up. “You didn’t happen to be in the layout in Playboy a few years back, did you?”
“Actually, yes I was.” She said thrusting her chest out and standing on her tip toes to make her legs even nicer looking. She had a pleased expression on her face. She loved to be recognized. I suppose being ordinary like me would be the kiss of death to her. Next to her, I felt plain ugly.
“Awesome,” Zac said. I knew he had that issue of Playboy. He had asked me to buy it for him and me, being the major sucker I am, I had bought it. “Do you think I could get your autograph?”
Cassandra laughed a high bell like laugh and all three of the boys joined her. The elevator opened onto a radio station so much like every other radio station we had seen in the last 5 weeks. Every city had a premier radio station with a top rated morning show and they all wanted Hanson. We were quickly ushered into a room where a table was laden with every conceivable form of breakfast food. Taylor and Isaac dove in head first, but Zac seemed undecided about the whole food experience, at first. Pretty soon he was knee deep in bread products.
I hung back ‘cause I’m not the biggest fan of breakfast and if you’ve ever seen them eat, you would be careful too. Seriously, I didn’t want to come up short a finger. I don’t know if it’s because they’re boys or because they come from a huge family (at their house, it’s a fight or starve free-for-all at dinner). Diana and Walker are amazing people who ooze southern hospitality and charm. Their manners make me feel like a country bumpkin, but the three oldest had yet to learn the finer of their refinements.
Another reason I wasn’t eating was Ms. Cassandra Beauregard and all of her perfection. She had me seriously intimidated. She made me feel like a child’s handmade ashtray next to one of Rodin’s ballerinas. Her long, lean and oh-so-coifed body made me feel so short, tubby and tomboyesque.
After about 10 minutes, Ike walked over to me with a cheese Danish and some orange juice. “It took a load of work, but I managed to wrestle this last Danish away from Tay. Cheese Danishes are still your favorite, right?”
“Thanks.” I said taking the offered pastry and glass of orange juice. “Ike, you are the most amazing person in the world. I mean, I dated Jarrod for 5 years and he never knew what my favorite band was let alone, my favorite breakfast food.”
“We were your favorite band, right?”
“Of course! Who else?”
“Yeah, well, Jarrod’s an asshole.” Ike said sitting on the couch next to me. Ike, Jarrod, Thad and I were the same age (Thad and I were born on July 14th, Ike’s birthday is November 17th, and Jarrod’s birthday is February 25th). At one time, we had all been super close friends. That was until Thad had died and Jarrod and I had started dating. It was a really bad and ugly relationship that lasted way too long. Jarrod was never nice to me and spent much of the time humiliating me whenever possible. For example the bra and panty set I wore, Jarrod gave them to me at my birthday party. A party attended by my entire extended family, his family and the Hanson family. As I opened the box and held it up, he loudly bragged to Ike, “screw her, I got myself a present” then laughed in the way only a lover can laugh. I honestly thought I was going to die, Jarrod just wanted to make sure everyone knew I had given in and we were indeed having sex. I had vowed to never, ever wear the underwear, but sometimes the span between laundry days made it absolutely necessary. He was constantly commenting on my body to his friends and would grope me in public. “Jarrod never loved you, he was in love with your body. I, on the other hand, have been in love with you my entire life. Which has led to much heartbreak and pain.”
“Ike, I love you too.” I said leaning my head against his shoulder. “I will always love you.”
“I know, but will you ever be in love with me?” Isaac said, sighing. This was a conversation whose halls we had tread before. In fact, we had worn a hole in the carpeting from pacing around and around this subject. “Don’t answer, I don’t want to know. Hey, if I never know the answer to that question, then I can spend the rest of my life in denial.”
“You are such a pain in my...”
“Language little lady, language.” Ike said in a dead on impression of his father.
“Anyway, how’s Emory?” Emory was Ike’s new girlfriend. Ike had met her in Dublin. She had pretty much followed us for the rest of the European leg of the tour. She was smart and funny, I really liked her. She was cute in wholesome way with short, curly red hair, enormous green eyes and the biggest, straightest, whitest teeth I had ever seen. The only person I knew who could smile as big as her was Ike. I hope she liked him for being Ike and not for being a Hanson. Unfortunately, she’d had to return to her job and well, we continued on to Asia and Australia. She had promised she would come to the United States sometime during this tour, but she hadn’t committed so far. “I mean, you must really, really miss her.”
I could feel him smile from where my head rested on his shoulder. “She is amazing, simply amazing.”
“No,” I said sarcastically. “Tell me how she really is, you don’t have to hold back or anything.”
“Cleo, I am so freakin’ whipped.” Ike said lacing his long fingers through mine. “I don’t want to upset you by declaring my undying love for another, but I think I may love her. I mean, I love almost everything about her.”
“So, are you still a virgin?” I had to ask. His virginity had been the topic of many of our discussions. Especially after he realized Jarrod and I were having sex. Sex had become the central topic of conversation when we were around 17. And Isaac, bless his soul, is the sweetest, kindest guy I’ve ever met, but man, he definitely suffered from a major case of oldest child syndrome. In other words, he never willfully did anything he had been told not to, this included no swearing, no speeding, and no premarital sex. Of course, we hadn’t spoken about it for quite a while. Especially after Isaac and I got into a major fight after I suddenly had a broken wrist and a black eye I couldn’t (or more appropriately wouldn’t) explain. He knew Jarrod had done it to me and yet, I wouldn’t admit it. Honestly, I think everyone knew. But in the true southern tradition, no one ever really talked about the problem.
“Cleo, I haven’t been for years...” He said laughing and hugging me extra hard. “But in answer to you question as it pertains to Emory, a gentleman never kisses and tells...” Suddenly, I was pegged squarely on the forehead by something cold and sticky. I grabbed it as it rolled down my shirt and discovered I had been pegged by a grape. I looked over to where Zac and Taylor were standing at the table of food laughing at my puzzled expression.
“That’s it! Someone is going down!!” I yelled jumping up as I was pelted by a barrage of bagels.