Rayne & Delilah's Midnite Matinee(65)

“Oh! And don’t be afraid to dress a little sexier. Spice things up. Take a page from SkeleTonya’s book.”

“We graduated from high school like one week ago,” Delia says.

Larry shrugs. “Congratulations.”

“Okaaaay,” Delia and I say almost simultaneously. We cut off Lawson, who started to weigh in too. We pick up the pace.

Larry walks more quickly. “Whew, walking this fast is hard in my Utilikilt. Not much support down there, if you know what I mean.” He starts to say something else—more helpful advice, I’m sure; maybe that we should smile more—but I cut him off.

“Anyway, Larry—”

Then he cuts me off. “Oh, also it wouldn’t kill you two to smile more. The show is mostly fine there, I’m talking about in person now. Makes you seem friendlier.”

“All right, Larry,” I say. “This has been fun the way holding in a fart is fun, but we need to be going,” I say over my shoulder.

Larry stops trying to keep up and bleats after us, “Word to the wise: it’s not a terrific idea to hold in farts. Does liver damage.”





“So, I guess that happened,” I say.

“We just met an anthropomorphic ingrown toenail,” Josie says, throwing a quick look behind us to make sure Larry was indeed thoroughly left in the dust.

“Larry is human broccoli.”

“He has the charisma of mysterious public stickiness.”

“He’s a gift card with thirteen cents on it.”

“He’s as charming as a burp that stinks up the whole room.”

“He was a dick,” Lawson says, interrupting our bit. But he’s not wrong.

“Still, exciting to meet someone who watches the show,” I say.

“Oh, totally,” Josie says.

My phone buzzes. I check it. “Aw, man,” I murmur.

“What?” Josie asks.

“Instead of meeting us in a little bit for lunch, Divine wants to reschedule for a dinner meeting.”

“Ah, that sucks. I wanted to get that over with. I’m nervous.”

“Same.”

As we return to wandering, I settle back into my churning stew of emotions. There’s a healthy shot of irritation with Larry Donut, sure. Definitely a dash of leftover exhilaration at being recognized in public. But then…something else. Something deeper and bigger than both those things.

Then I place it: when I heard my name (sorta) being called, it made me wonder for a split second (even though the voice and accent were all wrong) if my dad was around this convention somewhere. It’s only a few hours from where he lives now. It’s a horror convention, so that fits. I can’t remember him ever going to one when I was little, but…

The thought sets my pulse thrumming and makes me feel sick with nerves. I somehow managed to put him out of my mind, with all of the distractions of the con.

You’re so close to him. Closer than you’ve been in years. I keep looking for him in the crowd. Just in case. I have no clue what I’d do if I actually saw him. Freeze. Cry. Who knows?

My jitters mount as the day wears on and I add being apprehensive about meeting Jack Divine to the mix. If it weren’t for all of that, I’d be having a ball. We attend a couple of panels. Watch some amateur short horror films. Someone from Little Rock recognizes us. She’s a lot cooler than Larry. We sign her autograph book.

I get an autograph from Sick-ola Tesla, a web-only horror host I’m into. We talk a little shop. He praises us for keeping the tradition of public access TV horror hosting alive. He’s weird but nice.

At one point, I strike up a conversation with a director of independent horror films who lives in Birmingham, Alabama, and works at the public access station there. I give him one of our DVDs. We exchange phone numbers and promise to stay in touch. I sense friend potential.

Lawson and Josie make goo-goo eyes at each other. He carries her heels for her while she wears more walking-friendly flip-flops around the con. Honestly, I’m glad they’re keeping each other occupied, because I can tell Josie would be massively bored otherwise, and I’m in no state of mind to entertain her. I keep thinking how much my dad would love this convention. How it should be him and me here together.

We’re now scheduled to meet Jack Divine at 5:00. By the time 4:45 rolls around, I feel like puking. You went to all that trouble to get your dad’s info. You hired a PI while you and Mom barely had money to keep the lights on. You’ve chickened out every time you’ve tried to write him. When are you going to be this close to him again? You can’t afford to just up and travel to Florida.

My stomach winds around itself. I chew on my thumbnail.

“DeeDee?” Josie says, eyeing me with concern.

“Huh?”

“You okay?”

“Totally.”

“You look a little…ghostly.”

“Just, you know, tired.”

“Same.”

“And nervous.”

You won’t get another chance. You’re a few hours away. You know where he lives right now. You can do it. You can go and ask him why. You can finally exorcise that question from haunting your life. You have to leave by noon tomorrow to get home for work. Josie has a job interview on Monday. Lawson has to be back too. It’s tonight or never.