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I pop up from the bed, running over to the window. “No freaking way!” Carol Ann’s little black car is pulling up to the house. Both girls are inside, frantically waving from behind the windshield.
I’ve never been so happy to see two people before. Half the fun of getting ready for a party is glamming up with the girls. I instantly know they’ve come to get ready with me.
“Sweet, sweet girls!”
“You talking to yourself again?” His big frame fills the open doorway of my bedroom.
“Always,” I say, pushing past him to run to the front door.
He calls out from behind me as I fly down the hallway. “Where are you going?”
“To invite the girls in.”
“What girls?” Heavy, demanding bootsteps plod behind me.
“My girls! Now don’t say no, don’t say anything mean.” I grab the handle of the door, flipping my hair over my shoulder to face him. “And be polite.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “No one ran this by me.”
“Girls can be like that sometimes. Disobedient to our core.”
“Tell me about it,” he murmurs.
I throw open the door before they can knock, revealing the shining, happy faces of my friends. Smiling ear to ear, Carol Ann’s done her hair up in curls, the purple ends springing around her face in tight coils. She’s wearing all black, a sleek, sleeveless satin dress as she shivers in the cold.
Fiona, as sweet as always, has her long red hair down tonight, an innocent-looking pink hairband holding it back from her face. A heavy knit cream-colored sweater keeps her warm over her pink party dress. I fall into their arms in a fit of giggles. We have a three-way hug in our first in-person reunion.
Our high-pitched sounds of glee send him off. “I’ll go put the kettle on.”
“Come in! Come in! Carol Ann you must be freezing.” I hold the door open wide for the girls. Fiona pulls her white suitcase behind her.
“Aye,” she says. “I was freezing my tits off out there. But there’s no beauty without pain, is there, girls?”
I usher the girls straight to my room. “What did you bring, Fiona?”
She plops her suitcase on the open fold-out stand where I put mine when I first unpacked. “Dresses. Makeup. Curling irons.”
“And enough hairspray to blind an army. We’ll be stuck together the entire night with the amount Fiona uses.”
“You’re the one who said you didn’t want your curls to fall out when you were dancing,” Fiona shoots back.
They both look so pretty; I’m thrilled they’ve brought me clothes to borrow. “I can’t believe you’re here. You girls knew I needed you, didn’t you? And all I had to wear was jeans.”
Carol Ann leans in, whispering. “We want to know every single detail about what’s been going on here with you-know-who, but that’ll have to wait till we get a minute of privacy.”
Fiona nods in agreement. “We can talk at the Hobgoblin. For now? Makeover Time.”
She pulls a dark dress from her case. Long sleeves and sheer with a short shirt. The black material is printed with tiny colorful flowers in pinks and reds. There’s a spaghetti strap black dress that goes under the sheer layer.
Fiona holds it up against her, showing it off. “What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful,” I say, admiring the dress.
Fiona continues, “And I’ve got black tights and heels to match. Can you wear an eight?”
“I’m a seven and a half.” I think. “That should work.”
Carol Ann does my hair while Fiona does my makeup. Bayne stays out of our way other than delivering a tray with three cups of tea with the milk pitcher and sugar cubes, alongside a few of my oatmeal cranberry cookies on a plate. His eyes stay on my face a beat too long, taking in my hair and makeup. He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck as he leaves.
