On the Fence(32)

“Okay. Oh, I meant to ask you if you could be the canvas for Antonia. The girl she arranged with fell through, and this is her first class at this store.” She opened the center console and pulled out a flyer. “I told her you might do it. I’d do it, but I’m doing my cousin’s makeup for her wedding. It’s this Sunday.”

I took a deep breath, trying to forget the flash of memory, and stared at the flyer, not processing anything. “What time?”

“In the afternoon, I think. Doesn’t it say on there?”

It did. “Sure. I just have church in the morning, but we’re done by eleven, so this will work.”

“Thank you. She’ll be so relieved.”

Amber found a parking spot on the street and we hopped out. Even before we got to the doors, the music poured out of the building and into the night. The place was crowded and the energy of the people pushed against me as we made our way inside. I wasn’t used to feeling so much excitement buzzing outside of a sporting event. I wasn’t sure what to do with it. Normally I’d run or push back or charge. This wasn’t exactly the place for that. The group in the middle of the club was jumping up and down to the beat of the song. Maybe I needed to be in there.

The music went quiet, though, and the guy onstage announced that the next band would be out in five minutes. I hoped we hadn’t missed the one Skye wanted me to see—her boyfriend’s band. After searching for a while, we found Skye toward the back.

“Charlie! You came.” She gave me a side hug. “I wasn’t sure if you would.” She gave my outfit a once-over. “You look cute.”

“Thanks.”

“Not that I’m surprised. You have killer style.”

I let out a laugh but was surprised when neither she nor Amber laughed along. So that wasn’t a joke.

“Oh, look, Toad’s back on,” Skye said.

“Toad?” I asked.

“Henry.” She gestured toward the stage. “It’s a nickname my friend gave him and it’s stuck.”

“Is that why they named themselves The Crusty Toads?”

“No, actually. The nickname came second.”

I’d had a lot of nicknames in my life. “Toad” wasn’t any worse than “Charles Barkley,” which was what my brothers called me sometimes.

“Who’s the singer?” Amber asked. “He’s dreamy.”

“Mason,” Skye said, then leaned closer so we could hear her over the music. “So I was talking to Linda the other day, Charlie, and she showed me your pictures. They were great.”

“She did? Sorry you had to suffer through that. She’s just proud.”

“Of course she is. She’s going to be your Mama Lou soon too,” Skye said, giving me a wink.

My mind flashed back to the image of my mom in the car, smiling at me. “She’s not going to be my mom.”

I must’ve said it with an edge, because Skye’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mean your real mom. I just meant that she’s everyone’s mom.”

My skin itched. “I think I’m going to go dance for a while.” I pointed to the group in the center of the room. I needed to burn off the stagnant energy hanging around me.

“Me too,” Amber said, trailing after me.

Dancing wasn’t quite the same as running . . . or any sport, for that matter. I didn’t feel like I had a purpose, a goal. But after a while I let my mind relax and realized not everything had to have a point. Some things could just be for the fun of it. I looked over at Amber dancing next to me. She smiled, then hooked her arm in mine and twirled me around. My surroundings blurred and I soaked the moment in, deciding this night was something I could do again.





Chapter 19

The makeup venue for Antonia was bigger than Linda’s store. The word must’ve gotten around about these demos because there were more people, too. Probably close to fifty. I wove through groups until I got to the front and found a slightly panicked Antonia.

She grabbed my arm, relief flooding her eyes. “I thought you weren’t going to show.”

“I’m sorry. Am I late?” I glanced at my cell, which showed I had a ten-minute cushion.

“No. I’m just nervous. There are so many people. I guess there’s a bridal show in town this weekend and all these brides are here.”

I looked around and saw lots of white. “Oh, this is a bridal store.”

She laughed. “Yes. I’m showcasing the bridal line today.”

“Okay. Where do you want me?”

She pointed to a high stool and I positioned myself in the seat. A man in a suit walked up and introduced himself as the owner of the store. “The photographer will be here soon to get some photos of the session.”

“Photos?”

He opened a folder he held, then ran a finger down the first page. “I got your parental waiver for that, right? You’re . . .”

Antonia went wide-eyed from where she stood slightly behind him. “Chloe. She’s Chloe.” She gave me a pleading look.

“Right,” I said. “I’m Chloe.”

“Right. Here you are. Thanks.” He walked away.

“I’m sorry,” Antonia said. “I forgot about the stupid waiver he told Chloe to bring in when I thought she was doing it. Thanks for covering for me. It’s just so he can take pictures for the portfolio that will be next to the display in the store. Are you okay with that?”