"You sound terrible, Jenni. What's going on?" Brian's voice was tender, but insistent on the other end of the line.
"Nothing, Brian. I'm OK. Why?" Jenni had been trying to perk up her voice ever since she dialed Brian's number. She didn't want him to feel like she only wanted to see him when she was down. Brian was always a good friend to her. Anytime of day or night, he would make time to see her and take her mind off her troubles. Yet never once had he made a pass at her or made her feel uncomfortable, even though he had had her number in his phone since the day she borrowed his phone on a stormy night at a bus stop downtown.
"Liar," came Brian's voice, playful but firm. "Come on, do you think I don't know you? I know when you sound sad, Jenni, and you sound sad. Do you want to come by for a bit and talk about it? I've got nothing going tonight. I was gonna play some XBox with a couple of guys, but they can get on fine without me."
"Oh, I don't want to mess up your plans. I'll just stop by another time."
"Come on, Jenni. You always tell me I play too many video games. Come over and give me something else to do. I'll make ice cream!"
Now the therapeutic power of ice cream is well documented, but Brian's homemade variety was so effective at curing the doldrums that it should have been FDA-regulated. He said that just making it by hand made it a perfect tool for rescuing the down-in-the-dumps. And it worked on Jenni every time.
"Argh, you don't play fair," Jenni answered, giggling as tears welled in her eyes. "I'll see you in a little bit."
"Bye."
Jenni put on her coat, checked for her keys and her phone, and then stepped out into the freezing cold to walk to Brian's house. It wasn't far -- six blocks, around two corners -- so she didn't bother driving. All in all it took less than ten minutes from her front door to his. Brian was already mixing a vanilla-coconut depression remedy when she rang his bell.
"Come on in, Jenni," he said. "I'm almost done. And I've got something cool to show you."
Jenni tossed her coat over the back of Brian's sofa just like she always did. She walked to the kitchen and peered over his shoulder at the ice cream mixer as he cranked it carefully by hand.
"So what's on your mind?" Brian asked. "What's new in your life?"
"Nothing," Jenni answered bitterly, her shoulders slumping. "Same old, same old."
"Could be worse," Brian offered. "You could be in jail."
Jenni scoffed. "Might not be too much worse. I went out with Amanda and Rebecca this weekend. We met some guys ... you know. Tonight, both of them are out with their dudes, but ..." Jenni's eyes welled up again, and she couldn't finish the sentence. Brian turned from the ice cream to embrace her.
"His loss, babe," Brian said, patting her shoulders reassuringly. "You know those bar guys. Not worth the effort it takes to catch them."
"I know, but ... I mean, who doesn't want to be noticed? To be the girl that some guy talks to his friends about? They have that, and I ... never will." She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder. Brian was always so sweet and understanding. And she could hug him all night and he'd never make a move. Probably because she was so average-looking, she decided. Even when she could get a guy this close, he'd never take a second look at her.
"What are you talking about?" Brian chuckled and cast his eyes toward the ceiling. "You're exactly the kind of girl that guys get crushes on and beg their friends for advice about. Maybe you're just out of this guy's league is all."
"Whatever." Jenni shrugged and accepted the bowl of ice cream Brian offered her.
"It could happen. Come here, I want to show you something." Carrying his own ice cream, Brian led Jenni into the bedroom at the back of his apartment. There, in the corner, stood an antique walnut-framed floor mirror, the kind with little screws at the side so it can spin over the top and face either direction. It looked expensive, and heavy. What in the world is this doing in Brian's place? she thought.
"Since when are you into mirrors?" Jenni asked, walking over to the new addition. "It is kind of cool, but ... why?"
Jenni traced her fingertips along the woodwork. It didn't match with any of Brian's typical IKEA bachelor decor. What was he doing with something like this?
"I didn't pick it out. I won it as a prize. I thought you might like it; it's one of those antiquey things. So I brought it up here until I could show you. Then, something happened."
"What happened?" Jenni asked, examing the back of the mirror for a moment. Nothing unusual there, except that the wood was finished even in back. This was a high-quality piece of furniture.
"The mirror has some kind of special feature. Let me show you. Have a seat over there."
Jenni sat down on the end of Brian's bed. They had been friends for four years, ever since he had loaned her his cell phone when hers died at the bus stop during a thunderstorm. At first Jenni had thought he would use the fact that her number was stored on his phone as a way to hook up with her. But he never even asked her out privately -- he only contacted her to invite her to parties and other group events. He was always tender and respectful toward her, and she enjoyed the safety she felt in his friendship. She knew she wasn't pretty, and that was probably why he hadn't made a move. But he treated her well all the same, and that meant a lot to her.
"What's the special feature?" she asked. "Can it check your e-mail or something?"
Brian sat down next to her and pointed into the mirror. "Look at that lady."
"Uh huh," she sighed. "Nothing special to see there! Unless you have a magic mirror."
Brian smiled. "Maybe. This mirror, I swear, it shows you the best things about yourself. Amplifies them, even. It helps you to see what there is to like about you. Take a look. Just open your mind and think about the things you like about you."
Brian brushed his fingers encouragingly across the back of her right hand. Wait, was that innocent? Something about the feeling left tingles in her skin. A shade of sensual arousal lingered, enough to make her cast her eyes down to her hand and curl in her lower lip slightly. Had it really been so long since anyone had touched her at all? Was she longing this much for the slightest shred of affection? That felt good. Her eyes met his and she quickly drowned whatever longing sparkled in them with a deluge of friendly appreciation.
"Thanks, Brian. I just don't see anything."
She covered her right hand with her left and gazed at the mirror in front of her. She saw herself as she was -- normal. At first she thought of the word "ordinary," but its negative connotation reeked of self-pity. She didn't dislike herself. She felt comfortable with who she was and how she looked. She just didn't see herself as especially attractive, especially sexy, especially ... special. She was normal.
Her brunette hair was light enough to catch rays of sunshine that, to her eye, betrayed every split end and tangle. But it was dark enough to make her skin seem pale by comparison. She liked her hair color, and had never given any thought to dying it red or blonde or black or any strange color. She just knew her hair wasn't an asset to her physical appearance.
She brushed her fingers through it absentmindedly. Brian noticed.
"Your hair, Jenni," he said tenderly. "You always take care of it so well. You keep it all shiny and soft."
She smiled and blushed a little. Actually, as she looked in the mirror, she noticed that she was having a good hair day. The split ends and wild curls that usually showed up at the bottom of her hair weren't appearing. And it seemed shinier than usual, coming down the sides of her neck in smooth, graceful waves. At the touch of her fingers it floated softly into place, rather than falling like wet paper on her shoulders and neck.
She laughed. "Yeah, I am having a good hair day," she said. "I wonder what I did differently today?" Smiling, she turned her head from side to side and admired the result. "Huh. Thanks."
"See, there is a lot to like about the way you look," Brian added.
Jenni shrugged. "That's one. There's a lot to dislike, too," she said.
Tugging at both her hands (there was that feeling again!) Brian guided her to stand, coaxing her toward the mirror.
"What in the world can you dislike about this?" he said. He chose his worlds carefully, Jenni noticed. Probably trying to avoid sounding like anything but a friend. But she found herself somehow deeply longing to hear him just come out and say she was sexy.
"You have great skin," he added. "Everything about you is just what guys want."
She laughed and turned her face to examine the pimple she had found just yesterday on the crest of her left cheek. She brushed her soft hair back. Where was it? Maybe the other side? Now she turned to see the right side. No blemishes. Apparently, she had done her makeup extremely well today. But before, even when she really worked at it, in her mirror she could still distinguish the trace of what she was trying to cover up. Now it was like those pimples were never there. And the tiny beginnings of wrinkles around her eyes had disappeared, too. In fact -- her eyes widened as she noticed, her fingers tracing over her cheeks as she drew back strands of hair searching for vestiges of her blemishes -- even the skin on her hands looked better than ever. Soft, smooth, supple ... now how had that happened?
