Page 33 of Darling

“I’m all right. I’m ready,” Wendy said.

Tinkerbelle took her hand and led her into the Mermaid’s Lagoon.

CHAPTER 9

Now the Mermaid’s Lagoon had large front windows and was lit up as bright as Christmas so everyone could see inside from the street. There was a garish, giant sculpture of a woman with a tray of beer and hamburgers smack in front of the main entrance. The sign on the outside said CABARET AND DRAG SHOWS in blinding lights.

Wendy felt pretty confident she was prepared for what she was about to walk into. In fact, she was already thinking about bringing Eleanor to this place. Wendy could hear pulsing showtune music from outside the restaurant. Plus, even though she was still full of Slightly’s soup and Curly’s amazing bread, she wouldn’t mind snacking on some bar food. Having a full-scale panic attack and running at top speed was a metabolism booster.

But when Ominotago pulled open the side door and guided Tinkerbelle and Wendy inside, Wendy found herself once again lost at sea. First, the side door led directly into a dressing room. It was roughly the size of Peter’s living room, which is to say it wasn’t nearly large enough. The walls were fully covered with posters and magazine clippings of stage shows and divas: Marilyn Monroe, Judy Garland, Chicago, Kinky Boots, Aretha Franklin, the Supremes, Hairspray, My Fair Lady, and what appeared to be an actual shrine to Dolly Parton complete with candles underneath and flowers glued around the poster. The farthest wall had a giant mirror encrusted with light bulbs, and the table beneath it extended from one end of the room to the other. The corner nearest to the girls was a huge wardrobe of clothes racks and shelves crammed with wigs, jewelry, gloves, scarves, gowns, and boots of incredible colors and heights. A large shared vanity was crowded with makeup, tubs of cold cream, wig glue, rollers, curling irons, flat irons, blow dryers, bows, clips, giant fake flowers, and even a glue gun. The drag queen nearest the door was nearly completely dressed, except for a strip of eyelashes that lay limp in her hand as she stared at the three girls. The queen next to the first one had a full face of makeup on, lashes and all, but was only dressed from the waist down. Her muscular chest contrasted interestingly with a gingham skirt and tights, while the rest of her costume hung on a hanger hooked to the back of her chair. There was a queen next to the wardrobe, in the throes of gluing feathers to the sides of her face with wig glue. She was in a full flesh-colored unitard with padding beneath it. Her tights were absolutely stunning, dotted with iridescent feathers starting mid-thigh and fading to tight clusters at her ankles, which were tucked neatly beneath the table. There were also queens wearing what looked like the restaurant’s waitress uniform, getting undressed and putting their street clothes back on.

Charles, Fyodor, Minsu, Waatese, Curly, Nibs, and Peter were all crowded in the center of the dressing room, having a dramatic conversation while the drag queens watched in irritation.

As the three girls joined the boys, the drag queen in the gingham dress hissed, “Oh great, more children. This isn’t a day care center!”

Peter, who looked a little worse for wear, with ashes on his cheeks and his bright eyes shining with manic energy, was saying, “You’ll have to stay here until they leave.”

Ominotago, not nearly as starstruck as Wendy, pushed through the boys until she was standing directly in front of Peter and staring him down fiercely. “Tell me what’s going on. Now,” she demanded.

Peter narrowed his eyes to slits and didn’t answer her. Instead, his eyes trailed over Tinkerbelle and landed on Wendy. “Nice to know you made it, Darling. I see you’ve met my other ex, Ominotago.”

Unlike Tinkerbelle, Ominotago didn’t even flinch. Her hands were already curled into fists, and her body was angled to keep Tinkerbelle and Wendy behind her protectively. Charles, Waatese, and Minsu, who were standing behind Peter, looked at him in open disgust.

“Detective Hook is here,” Curly answered Ominotago, breaking the tension. “He’s asking for permission to search the restaurant, but management isn’t letting him ruin their dinner service without a warrant.”

“Sounds like a problem, but you’re not staying in here,” the queen in the gingham dress snapped. “You’re lucky Bella even opened the door for you.”

Peter said nothing, but turned around and snatched a box of makeup wipes off the vanity. He began briskly rubbing the ash off his face, arms, and hands.

“Those were mine, but you’re welcome to them,” the queen who was holding her lashes said sarcastically as Peter nearly emptied the entire box.

When Peter was finished, he grabbed a comb from the vanity and began fixing his hair. “Detective Hook can’t get in for a search, but if he buys something, he can get in as a customer and he will walk around. So. Everyone who wasn’t detained by police can come into the restaurant and sit at my table.” He painstakingly put himself to rights. “Everyone else, find somewhere else to hide. I’m friends with the head chef, so you guys can probably slip into the kitchen.”

Peter did something bafflingly swift with his hand without reaching into his jacket at all, and suddenly he was holding a business card. He gave it to Fyodor, who took it gingerly from Peter like it was a cursed object.

“The chef’s name is Joe,” Peter said. “Give him this, and he’ll let you go into the pantry.”

“How do you know this man?” Fyodor asked suspiciously.

Peter grinned at the opportunity to show off. “I know everyone who is worth knowing in this city.” Wendy noticed, for the very first time, how sharp his eyeteeth were. Peter turned his back on Fyodor, clearly finished speaking to him. Fyodor joined Charles, Minsu, and Waatese in looking at Peter’s back in disgust, but he, Waatese, Charles, and Minsu left the dressing room.

Now it was just the queens, Peter, Nibs, Curly, Ominotago, Tinkerbelle, and Wendy. Ominotago watched, arms crossed, as Peter picked up a compact, daubed a fingertip in some concealer—also belonging to the queen holding her eyelashes—and patted it beneath his eyes until he looked as fresh as when Wendy had met him.

“Tinkerbelle,” Peter said, “you can come with me, Nibs, and Curly if you want. Om—”

Ominotago interrupted him. “You don’t give me orders anymore.”

“Fine,” Peter snapped, finally addressing her directly. “Do what you want. Just keep Darling safe and hidden. So fucking stubborn.” He tossed the compact back on the vanity as all the drag queens watched in scandalized silence.

Peter pointed at the door. Curly reached over and patted Wendy on the shoulder one last time and then followed Nibs out into the restaurant. Tinkerbelle squeezed Ominotago’s hand and glanced up at Peter with a blank look that Wendy finally understood was fear, before following his instructions, as well.

Peter pulled another card out of thin air and handed it to the queen whose makeup he’d taken. “Thank you for letting me use your things, sweetheart. I’m sorry for not asking beforehand,” he said in the gentle voice Wendy hadn’t heard since he was hugging her after her kidnapping. “If you bring this to Elim Wig and Beauty and hand it to the cashier, he’ll let you take one thing from the store for free. Any price, any grade of hair, all for you.”

Just like Wendy had, the queen melted, and then she took the card from Peter.

“He’s good for it, too,” the queen wearing the feathered tights said as she ringed her eyes in iridescent green-and-blue shadow. She had spent the entire interaction focused on her costume, while the other drag queens had been watching the children hash out the details of avoiding the detective.

Peter wove in between the other queens to reach the corner where the queen in feathered tights was sitting. He pressed a quick kiss to the side of her face, over the feathers she had glued down. “Good luck tonight, Bella. I’ll be watching you,” he said sweetly.