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Carine gave her head the barest shake.
She really had gone into Heidi’s intending to behave. Less than five minutes after crossing the threshold, she’d gotten entangled in the Dowd sexual energy.
This isn’t my fault. This really isn’t my fault.
“Glad we’re on the same page,” Heidi whispered. “I’m going to braid your hair now. You’ve got too much of it flying about.”
When Heidi lifted her hand from Carine’s mouth, Carine asked, “Are we having a birthday dinner or a church service?”
“The former but conducting yourself with the reverence of the latter will ensure your blood pressure stays at its usual baseline.” Heidi edged around Carine and scraped her hair back from her face. “You see, there’s a tightrope that must be tiptoed across when you choose to have the audacity to disappoint your parents and not apologize for it. If you remain local and stay connected, there are certain rituals to respect and playact your way through. One does not simply cease speaking to her family, because then, other people will talk. They’ll air out your dirty laundry all over town, and that’s not fair for your little boy’s social life, is it?”
“I’m Southern. I know how that goes.”
“I’m glad you do.” Heidi’s fingers were quick and nimble, and she’d secured Carine’s hair in a tight French braid in less than three minutes. She tucked up the end with a few pins from her jewelry box. “I have no idea what possessed you to volunteer for this, but Kalimah will be grateful for anything you do or say that keeps my mother from needling her about why she’s picking at her dinner. She’s too nauseated to eat at a normal speed.”
“I’ve got a college degree in bullshitting people and did years of community theater. I know how to be a distraction.”
“Yes, you do.” Heidi returned to her previous station in front of Carine and assessed her again.
Seemingly on its own, Carine’s chest jutted outward on a deep breath she hadn’t really needed as though to prove Heidi’s point.
“Did you bring lipstick tonight? Or is it at home on your bathroom counter?”
The lipstick for later.
There was a chance Heidi might do highwayman things to her—that she’d take her pins and cardigan back and improve Carine’s attire by discarding it wholesale.
She’d have to endure Heidi’s assessing gaze and wonder where Heidi would put her hands.
Carine had one mind to hitch up her ugly dress and preemptively suggest some places.
“There’s…a tube in my purse,” she answered in a breathy tone.
Despite what Heidi had said to her on the phone, for Carine, the act of packing the lipstick required a presumption about how the evening would end. Carine didn’t want to assume anything, but refused to be caught unprepared again.
She was getting to a point where she didn’t want anyone else to touch her except Heidi.
Heidi made a muffled incredulity sound and edged past her, hooking her thumb on Carine’s waist as she went. “I guess we’ll see if it really is.”
