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Were they laugh-lines? Jennie wondered as she scrutinized her reflection in the mirror. Or had the last twenty years turned them into creases (not wrinkles, never wrinkles), creases… just as they had turned the five pounds she used to lose on a moment's notice into twenty-five unshakable pounds? Jennie pulled nervously at the curled ends of her silky brown hair, perhaps the last and purest vestige of her youthful beauty and turned away from the mirror… momentarily.
What about the dress? She wondered, looking over her shoulder. Is it too long, too short, too sexy, not sexy enough, or did it, (heaven forbid), make her look fat? The dress was, after all, designed for a tight fit. But how tight is tight? By the same token, how fat is fat? Were her tummy rolls showing? Were her hips sticking out? And did her butt, or for that matter her breasts, once firm images of a high school cheerleader, look as big and as bouncy as they felt?
Jennie took a deep, calming breath (except that it didn't calm her), and turned away from the mirror once more. At least she still had her green eyes -wintergreen is how her mother always described them. Then again, her mother had lousy eyesight. Besides, with the anxiety of her twenty year high school reunion to deprive her of a good night's sleep the entire week, Jennie was more concerned that her eyes looked tired and red. Perhaps her new perfume was the culprit. Perhaps she was allergic to it. And speaking of perfume, what about her makeup? For god sakes what if she put too much on? Worse still, what if she didn't put on enough? Those damn laugh-lines, remember? Or had the last twenty years turned them into creases (not wrinkles, never wrinkles), creases?
Twenty years - hardly a lifetime, and yet, with the reunion a little over an hour away Jennie's thoughts returned to Jeffrey, dear, dear Jeffrey, and she knew that it was also much more than a fading memory.