Scarlett Bound

Chapter 4

“You guys have got to remember to lock your door,” I shout as I walk into my childhood home. The smell of incense immediately fills my lungs. Every Morning my mother lights two of them upstairs in her bedroom and two downstairs in the living room. Instead of having air fresheners growing up like everyone else we had incense. Mom would make us use them for everything.

All the little trinkets and furniture in the house are in the same spot they’ve always been in. Every time I come home I get swept back into my childhood. I can hear the laughter of my brothers, the pounding of our feet on the floor as we ran through the house, and my screams as they tried to do something mean to me.

Laughing, I let myself further into the house. I take my shoes off and set them by the front door as my mother comes waltzing out of my dad's study.

“Your father left it open because he knew you would be here soon. Don’t worry your gorgeous little head off.” She waves my concern off like leaving the door unlocked is no big deal. Yes, this is one of the safer neighborhoods to live in but that doesn't mean that nothing bad ever happens here. 

Bright white teeth nearly blind me as my mom gives me a smile and comes at me with outstretched arms for a hug. Her arms wrap around me as if she hasn't seen me in months. I squeeze her petite slight frame. Leaning into the comfort of her embrace I hold on to her for a few more seconds before pulling away.

“It’s not safe mom. I still have a key to the house. You don’t need to leave the door unlocked when you know I'm coming over but I appreciate you guys thinking of me. Now, shall we get you all dolled up for your lunch date with your friends?” I ask as I lift up my makeup case with a big smile. 

“Yes!” She claps her hands eagerly and turns on her heel to head further into the house. We go upstairs to the master bedroom where her vanity is set up. She turns the lights on then takes a seat in front of the mirror.

I take out a number of tools and set them up to have easy access to them. Pallets, brushes, sprays, and a few other things are lined up on the shiny vanities surface. Finding an outlet, I plug in my flat iron to begin warming up.

Unlike my curly locks, my mother has long dirty blonde hair. For the longest time she kept the strand short but the last few years she’s been growing her hair out. Now it reaches a bit past her mid-back and I’ve told her on multiple occasions how jealous of her I am. My hair grows about as fast as a snail moves. Plus, there's the neverending job of finding good products for my hair. That’s why I want to start working on a new hairline at work. I know the struggle of not being able to find products that work for my hair and I want to give people like me more options.

“Hey, mom!” My older brother yells from what I assume to be his bedroom. He’s either in there or out with friends most these days. It’s his senior year and he’s almost eighteen. He’s at that point in life where he thinks that he’s basically an adult and doesn’t need anybody. He’ll learn in the next few months that that's not the case and we’ll all be here for him when he comes to that realization.

“What, Gabriel? I’m in my room with your sister. She’s here to help me get ready.” She shouts back with her eyes closed and tries her best not to move her lips too much as I apply the primer. 

My brother walks down the hall and peeks his head through the door. The two of us share a few features in common. We have the same small ears and pointed noses but that’s where the similarities stop. He’s about a half-foot taller than me. Where he’s six foot I’m only five foot five.

My family tree is a little complicated but the reason we have so many differences between the two of us is that we have different fathers and the same mothers. One of my older brothers has the same dad as me and the other two have the same father as Gabriel but different mothers than the rest of us. Grant is technically my stepfather but to me and my older brother, he’s just our dad. He helped raise us. I can remember him being there at every birthday and helping me with my boo boo's when I hurt myself.

Grant treated me and Everett, one of my older brothers, as if we were his own. My mother did the same with my other two older brothers. She may not have given birth to them but they call her mom like how I call Grant dad.

“Hey, Gabe. Are you excited to almost be done with classes?” I ask him as I begin applying eyeshadow to my mother's lids.

“You know it. It feels like these last few weeks are taking forever but at least the teachers are being pretty chill about the work they are giving us. They mainly just want us to focus on studying for finals next week.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be over before you know it. Then you’ll have the whole summer to goof off.” He laughs and runs a hand over his short tight curls. My mother peeks open the eye I'm not working on to look at the reflection of Gabe in her mirror.

“Are you going out?”

“Yeah, I’m just going to go play some ball with the guys. We’ll probably go get some food after too so I won't be home till late.”

“Have fun and don’t get into any trouble, please. Be home by eleven, it’s a school night.” Gabe lets out a groan but doesn’t argue with her. At least he’s smart about some things.

“Thanks, mom, I’ll see you later.” He’s turned around and down the hall before he’s even finished his sentence. My mother lets out a sigh and frowns.

“He’s anxious to get out of the house. I don't think he ever got used to not having any of you guys around. To him, it’s like the house is empty.” She lets out another big sigh. “My last baby is almost all grown up and he’ll be out of here as soon as his dorms open.”

“Look at the bright side momma. It’ll be the first time in over twenty years that you and dad won't have any kids around. You’ll have the house completely to yourselves.” My plan works and her frown turns into one of her megawatt smiles. She laughs and shakes her head as I go to grab my blending brush.

“You make a good point.”

Silence surrounds us but it’s not uncomfortable. My mother is probably lost in thought about my little brother but me, I’m in my zone doing what I love. Doing makeup has always put me in this place of peace. It’s my form of art. Creating these eyeshadow pallets does the same. Whenever I’m in the lab I always have a big smile on my face. As if I’m a kid exploring a new place I’ve just found. 

At thirteen was when I started getting into makeup. My mother thought I was too young to wear anything more than mascara or lipgloss but that didn't stop me. I bought a couple of things in secret. At night I would stay up late in my room practicing different techniques on myself. Sometimes I would even wake up early to do my makeup and walk to school so my parents wouldn't see me. At the end of the day I would wipe it off in the bathroom and my parents never knew I had gone to school with a face full of makeup done. 

By the time I was fifteen I was pretty good at applying my makeup. My parents finally gave me the go-ahead to be able to wear things such as eyeshadow or lipstick so I didn't have to sneak around anymore but by then my interests had widened. I was interested in learning how to make the eyeshadows. I found that I couldn't find many pallets with colors that went with my darker tone. I thought since I couldn’t find anything then maybe I could give making it a try. Getting into creating my own pallets was the best decision I ever made. It led to the birth of Mixed.

“You can open your eyes now mom. I’ll curl your hair then do your lipstick and we’ll be all done.” I stand behind her and start wrapping sections of hair around the curling iron.

“How have you been sweetie? You’ve been taking care of yourself, right?” Worried hazel eyes meet mine in the mirror. I separate another piece of her hair to curl.

“I’m doing fine mama. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“You’re my baby girl. I’ll always worry about you hun. Even when you’re fifty years old and have had kids of your own.” She smiles at me. “You know I’m extremely proud of you. You’ve accomplished a ton but I worry you aren't taking enough time for yourself.”

Being the only girl with five brothers while growing up was very interesting and my interest. I mean it was a nightmare most of the time but the bright side was I always had my mama around to have my back. She brought the phrase mama bear to a whole new level. The good news was I could go to her for anything without worrying. The bad news was sometimes I felt a little smothered but I was grateful that she cared so much. 

“Last night I was actually thinking about that. I can remember the last time I had a vacation or took a few days off in a row. I’ve been going nonstop for quite a while.” My mother squints her eyes at me and I answer her unspoken question. “I’m still taking care of myself. I won't end up in the hospital again, I promise. I’m making sure I eat, stay hydrated, and I'm nowhere near as stressed as I was back then.”

“That's good. I’m glad to hear that. What were you saying about taking a vacation?” She waves her hand for me to continue. I finish curling the last section and turn the iron off. Then I gather a small bundle from the front of both sides of her head and tie them gently in the back leaving a few strands to hang loose in the front silhouetting her heart-shaped face.

“Well, I was saying that I think I need to start cutting back on my hours. I leave the office and when I go home I do more work. The last time I took a full day off was months ago because there was so much going on with finishing my new line before the launch. Then the launch happened and it's been nothing but work since then. Mainly just all these meetings with snobs who want to buy my company. It feels like I have less and less time to do what I love.” I finish applying the light pink lipstick to her lips then take a step back to let her have a full view of herself in the mirror. “If I don’t start giving myself time away from the business I’m going to burn myself out. I don’t want to wake up one morning resenting the company that I love.” I lean against the vanity counter and look down at my twiddling hands. 

“Oh honey, look at me.” My mother covers my hands with her small french tipped ones. Her skin almost looks pale up against my darker complexion. “How about you start off small. When you get home make it a work-free zone. Work stays at work. Talk to Rye about fitting in days off once a week. If you tell him about how you’re feeling you know he will change everything around in a heartbeat and you won't have to worry about a thing. That boy is amazing at maintaining your schedule. Lastly, and this is the most important,” She says as she looks into my eyes, “Keep doing what you love. That’s the most important. Screw those big-headed sleazy buffoons. Don’t even give them the time of day. This is your company, that you built with lots of time, care, tears, and heart. No one else is going to be able to run it, take care of it, or love as much as you do.”

“Thanks, mom.” sniffing, I wrap my arms around her and hold her as close as she did me when I first walked through the door. It feels as if I’m crushing her to death but just like how I didn't complain she doesn't either. She just squeezes me back.

“Of course. You know I’m always here for you.”