But dressing up and being perceived for a check? I didn’t think so.
“Interesting,” I said in my bestbut I’m not interestedtone.
“How does one sign up?” Rae asked.
“Aren’t we going to be busy with…” Ridding me of nightmares and figuring out how to retrieve her buried shoe from the yard. “Work?”
When Maggie’s forehead creased, I added, “Rae’s here for work. She’s a freelancer and needed a change of scenery.”
“I have a good work-life balance, though,” Rae promised with a wink. “Don’t you worry, bestie. I can work and have my cake, too.”
“Bestie?”I asked under my breath when we finally walked out of the grocery store after nearly an hour ofyou must be the first to try my new homemade hand lotion, andI can place an order for anything you need and have it here by next Friday.
Rae kept triggering tangents as if we had all the time in the world to mill around. I should be more annoyed, but I couldn’t help but struggle to fend off a smile.
Rae’s excitement curved around her, creating a glowing halo. It was hard to be mad when she kept looking my way for input and reactions. She bragged about the homemade jam I’d made. And how great I was with the horses.
“You started it.” Rae grinned, holding a reusable bag of groceries in one hand and costume contest tickets in herother. She waved them back and forth as if they were the thousand-dollar prize already.
“I don’t know anyone over the age of twenty-five who uses the word ‘bestie,’” I mused as we got to the horses. Frog and Kat lifted their heads, more than ready to leave the boring water trough and dead city street.
“Your grouchy old woman act will never faze me. I never bought into the whole ‘thirty is old’ agenda.” Rae watched me put the groceries into the pouch hanging from Frog and then attempted to do the same on Kat.
When she struggled with unclasping the buckles, I moved to help. Her hand caught underneath mine, soft knuckles painting static-charged lines across my hard palm. I flexed my fingers.
“All good?” She copied my worried brow with little effort. She did that a lot. Mirrored.
“Yeah, I’m just thinking about how you’re going to get your costume together in such a short amount of time.”
“I’m raiding your closet, of course.” She offered a one-shoulder shrug as if it were a given.
I laughed. “Sure, if you want to lose.”
“You’ve got to have more than…” Rae tugged on the hem of my top, inspecting the cotton. There was a lump in my throat as she examined me. I stood straighter, trying to seem worthy of close observation. “Workwear.”
“Why would you assume that?”
“Your walls are littered with K-pop bands,” she said. “I even saw a box of Polaroids of them in your closet.”
“Photo cards. They’re called photo cards. And it’s just a…fandom thing.” I tugged on my sleeves. “I used to be big into collecting when I had the disposable income and headspace. What does that have to do with my clothes?”
“The one you had the most of was a group dressed inold western clothes. You’re telling me you never went to one of their concerts?”
“Never.”
Her smile dropped. “Seriously?”
“I had the cash for photo cards, but concerts are expensive.”
“Would you go to one now?”
I squinted. “Why?”
“I don’t know, just trying to figure out what gets Octavia Daniel excited.”
Then you better bite another one of those peaches.
“Again, why?”
