found the boy, I’ll ask you to leave the premises immediately.”
“Sure. And by the way, I didn’t think you had to be twenty-one to enter a bar.”
“You don’t.” He strides past me, never once having taken his hands out of his pockets, and I have to will myself not to focus on his obviously muscled ass in those slacks. “Bathroom is down the hall on the right,” he says, just before the shadows ahead swallow him once more.
The sound of giggling draws my feet toward a door on the left, and when I peer inside, I find Justin sitting on the lap of a woman wearing a costume with bright colorful feathers that makes her look like a peacock. The sight of her tickling him would give me the creeps, except that, standing behind him is the boy’s mother, arms crossed, rolling her eyes as she talks to a woman whose back is to me.
“Hey, there you are.” Stepping inside brings the entire room into view, crowded with back-to-back vanities, costumes hanging from racks all around the room like a flock of birds exploded into sequins.
“Cawly!” Justin squeals on seeing me, and wriggles off the woman’s lap. “Look, Momma! It’s Cawly!”
With a sheepish grin, I wave back at Marcelle, and not a second later, the woman she’s talking to turns around to face me. Golden skin with a slight reddish tone, a short and wavy French bob, petite frame, and bright hazel eyes are all features that strike a bittersweet chord.
My heart catches in my throat.
Years can change a person, I know that for a fact, but beneath whatever the world does to change the landscape of skin and bones, there is something constant. The warmth of familiarity that time can’t touch. As I stare back at my friend from all those years ago, the urge to break down tugs at the back of my eyes. So long, I’ve yearned to feel something. Anything.
And suddenly, I feel everything.
“You!” The curiosity I thought I saw just moments ago morphs into anger, and she storms toward me, pointing her finger. “You were gonna just … drop her off here to pick up my keys and let her drive him home? When it’s obvious she’s high as a damn kite right now! What the hell is wrong with you!”
“Brie! Don’t you dare talk like I’m the younger one of us.”
Her sister swings back around, and if the woman were capable of producing those winged things that come out of lizards when they’re mad, she’d probably knock the girl sitting next to her off her chair. “You don’t get to speak. Not until you’re sober. You’re canceled, Marcelle, so zip it!”
“Look, I’m not trying to get into your sibling rivalry here. I was just trying to help.”
“Help? Helping would’ve been driving her home, not dropping her off at a strip club with her son!”
“First of all, it doesn’t sound like it’s this kid’s first rodeo here, and second, I didn’t know she, or you, worked at a strip club. I was just taking her to someone who could help, which clearly isn’t her sister, from what I’m gathering?”
Brie stands with her mouth gaping, then closing. Gaping then closing again, like a--
“You wook wike a fishy, tante Brie!” Justin belts out before I can finish the thought, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
Brie pinches the bridge of her nose, and I have to assume the jerk of her body is a laugh she’s trying to contain, as well. “Look, I need about fifteen minutes. I’ll have Miranda watch the floor for me. Can you sit tight until then? And I’ll drive you and Justin home.”
“Fine,” Marcelle answers, arms crossed. “Car’s gonna have to be towed, too. She thinks the starter’s bad.”
Brie’s attention swings around to me again, “Are you a mechanic?”
Rolling my shoulders back, I shake my head. “My …” Pseudo “Dad was. I had to help him fix ours when it went bad.”
“Any idea how much something like that costs?”
“I’m not … sure. Ours was free, basically. I’m guessing, maybe, a couple hundred?”
Her eyes pop wide at that, and she lodges her hands through her hair. “A couple hundred? For real?”
“Maybe less. I don’t know. Forget what I said, I’m not a car person. Look, if you want, I can bring your groceries inside, and we can part ways here. I have to get back.”
“Where you stayin’?”
“Um … I don’t, uh … I’m um ... “
“I’m