"I've always wanted to go to Disneyland," Jetman said as he ladled pancake batter into a pan. "I think I'd like to do that."
Ink smiled at him. It was a great smile. "You'll be getting the VIP treatment while you're there. I think you're going to have a wonderful time." She turned toward Tiff and me. "And what are you two going to do?"
"I'd like to go shopping," Tiffani said. "I've never even seen a thousand dollars in one place. But I don't want to go alone." She looked at me hopefully.
I was torn. I had plenty of clothes—even if most of them didn't fit me anymore. And Disneyland sounded like fun. So did having a spa day. But Tiff gave me a pleading look, and I couldn't resist. "I guess I'll go with Tiffani," I said.
Ink looked disappointed. I guess they hoped we'd each take a different "prize" so there would be more diverse footage to work with. "Be ready in half an hour."
The Beverly Center wasn't as swank as Rodeo Drive, or as trendy as Mel-rose Avenue, but there was a great variety of stores. We decided to start at Bergdorf's and work our way through the mall from there.
"Oh my God," Tiffani said, stroking a bright red cashmere wrap. "You've got to feel this."
I smiled. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been that excited about shopping. After all the modeling, I'd started to hate clothes. I usually wore inexpensive off-the-rack stuff and some of the nicer pieces that the designers would send around. That was one of the perks of the job. I had loads of status symbol accessories that were only mine because some designer thought Jill Blow would covet his $500 sunglasses because she saw me wearing them in In Style magazine.
Tiff picked up the price tag and blanched. "It's four hundred and fifty dollars. Every bit of clothing my sisters and I bought last year didn't cost that much."
Without thinking, I said, "You're kidding."
Tiffani rubbed the cashmere against her cheek. "Nope. When I said we were poor, I meant real poor."
"I thought there was just 'poor'."
She laughed and carefully put the wrap back on its shelf, then ran her hand across the rainbow colors of the rest of the shawls. "We never went to see movies. They cost too much money. We didn't go out to eat. We never had cell phones, or clothes that hadn't been worn by someone else first. Or an inside toilet."
I stared at her. "You're kidding. How did you find out about American Hero?"
She laughed. "Honey, everyone has a TV. Even the folks without indoor plumbing."
We wandered over to the perfume counter. Tiff took a bottle of Joy 1000 off the tester tray and spritzed a little on her wrist, then sniffed. She held her wrist under my nose. The heavy aroma of jasmine and roses wafted up. "It's okay," I said. "It's just not my cup of frothy cappuccino."
Tiffani sniffed her wrist again. "Mmmmm, I think I like it." She glanced around for a salesgirl. One rushed over. I think she noticed the camera following us.
The salesgirl gave us a bright smile. "How can I help you?" she asked.
"How much is this?" Tiffani asked.
"Do you want the perfume or the cologne?" the salesgirl asked, putting bottles on the counter.
"Uhm, I'm not sure."
I leaned over and whispered in Tiff's ear. "Cologne will be cheaper, but doesn't last as long as the perfume."
"Tell me the price on both," Tiff said.
"The perfume is one-hundred and sixty, the cologne is seventy-eight."
"Does it buy you dinner, too?" Tiff asked. She looked between the two bottles, then put them both back on the counter. "I do want to get some things for my family. If I've got anything left, maybe I'll come back."
The salesgirl plastered on another toothy smile. "Certainly. We're here until nine P.M."
Tiffani was already wandering toward the shoes. The salesgirl leaned over the counter. "Are you from American Hero?" she asked softly. "Is that Tiffani?"
"Yep."
"Do you think you could get me her autograph?"
It stung. I was used to being the person who was singled out. "Just a minute," I said, taking the paper and pen.
I walked to Tiff, who was looking at a pair of Stuart Weitzman sandals. "Three hundred dollars for a pair of shoes?" she exclaimed. "Seriously, do people here just like pissing money away?"
"If they were Manolos or Jimmy Choos, they'd be a lot more expensive," I said. I picked up a pair of Dolce & Gabbana pumps and contemplated them for a moment. At my current weight, I'd snap the delicate heel in no time.
"But these aren't even all that pretty."
"It's fashion," I replied, putting the pumps back on their display stand. "Hey, the salesgirl at the perfume counter would like your autograph." I pulled the pen and paper out of my pocket and handed them to her.
"Really?" Tiff said, glancing in the direction of the perfume counter. She looked surprised and thrilled. "I didn't think she even recognized us."
I smiled at her excitement. "Don't be silly," I said. "You're a star."
She beamed up at me. I wanted to kiss her. I hated that she grew up poor and didn't have nice things. I wanted to give her everything she'd missed and everything she desired.
We finally ended up at the Gap, a few doors away from Bergdorf's. Tiff had a ball picking out sweaters, jeans, shirts, and coats for her siblings.
"So," I said as Tiffani handed over her prepaid Visa card to the clerk. "Got any money left over for yourself?"
"I doubt it," she replied. "But it doesn't really matter. And I'm glad I found that sale rack." She looked over at me. "Why haven't you bought anything?"
I jammed my hands into my pants pockets. The only thing I'd seen during our shopping that I wanted had been an ultra-stretchy track suit. It was made of some micro-fiber I'd never heard of and had a beautiful drape and wasn't shiny. But it was also fantastically expensive, and I didn't want Tiffani seeing me spend my whole amount on one thing. Besides, I had a better way to spend my money.
We grabbed Tiff's bags and headed for the door. But just outside the store there was a crowd blocking our way.
"I wonder what's going on?" Tiffani said. Then the cameras started clicking, and we realized that they were waiting for us. "Tiffani! Over here!" shouted one excited preteen. Her friends squealed when Tiff looked their way. "Oh my God, she looked at me!"
Tiff walked over and said hello to them. Another wave of squealing was set off. I stood there, feeling awkward.
"Are you the Amazing Bubbles?" a gawky boy wearing an oversized T-shirt asked me.
"Yes," I replied. "I am."
"Would you sign my shirt?"
"Sure," I said. One of the clerks handed me a Sharpie and offered to hold our packages while we were signing autographs. "Front or back?" I asked.
He turned around. "Back."
I signed his back—"The Amazing Bubbles." He turned and gave me a big grin, so I held my hand out and made a baseball-size bubble. I released it, and it floated over to him. He caught it and held it in his hands for a few seconds before it popped.
A few more people asked me for autographs—but when I was finished I saw that Tiff was not only still signing, but that even more people were gathering around her. I decided to slip off and take care of the shopping I wanted to do while she took care of her fans.
When I returned, I was surprised to see that the crowd was even bigger than before. And then I realized why: Tiffani had turned to diamond. The lights in the mall were hitting her and bouncing off her faceted skin, making rainbows on the walls. As she moved she twinkled. She shone like a star. It was bittersweet. I was accustomed to being the one people noticed, but I couldn't begrudge Tiff the attention. I could see her grinning. She was beaming, and so excited.
"Bubbles," I heard her say. "Where's Bubbles?"
"I'm here, Tiff," I said loudly.
"Come here!"
"I can't. You're surrounded."
"Make a hole!" she yelled. The crowd parted and she ran to me. "This is the Amazing Bubbles! You're going to be hearing a lot about her." She grabbed my hand with her long, cool, diamond fingers and dragged me into the center of the crowd. "Show the people what you can do."