“I don’t know,” I answered.
“Wel , me and Marcus are havin’ a party, not this Thursday but next. Would love for you to come.” That was so sweet of her.
“I don’t know if I’l be here but if I am, I’l come,” I said.
“I don’t need exact numbers, it’s a charity do so it’l be finger food. The people comin’ own most of Denver. They can afford to fil their bel ies before they show up at The Castle.”
The Castle?
Daisy went on. “It’s black tie, you got something sparkly to wear?”
“Um…” I didn’t. Bil y and I didn’t normal y attend black tie affairs.
“Don’t worry, Tod wil loan you somethin’. He’s a drag queen. He has the best closet. Oh! Gotta go, my masseuse is here. Ta-ta!”
“Bye,” I said to dead air. She’d already hung up.
I flipped the phone closed and tried to flip off the switch that was making me feel welcome and safe and weirdly at home (the switch didn’t work).
I washed my face in order to prepare for my nighttime makeup regime and I was drying it when my phone rang. I looked at it on the vanity, certain that it would be Bil y, but instead it said it was Tod, Indy’s neighbor.
Holy cow. I knew that Daisy had programmed in Tod and Stevie when she was fiddling with my phone. How Tod got my number, I did not know.
I flipped it open. “Hel o?”
“Hey girlie. It’s Tod. Daisy cal ed, said you might need something to wear to her big bash. Come over, we’l go through my closet,” Tod invited.
Oh my God, that was so sweet.
“I’m not sure I’m going to be here,” I told him.
“You have to be here! It’s gonna be the party of the decade!” Tod screeched like I just told him I turned down a marriage proposal from Prince Wil iam.
“Um…” I said.
“Come over anyway. I’l get out a bottle of sparkling wine and the Yahtzee game.”
“I’m going on a date with Hank.”
Silence.
Then, “Shit, those boys don’t f**k around.” He could say that again.
Because I needed help, I took a deep breath and confided, “I’m not sure what to wear.”
Tod answered immediately, “Tel me what you’ve got.” I described the contents of my suitcases. The whole time I spoke, he muttered, “Mm hmm. Mm hmm.” Then, when I described my black top with the wide, scoop neck, he yel ed, “That! With jeans and heels and a rock ‘n’ rol scarf.
Do you have a good belt? Forget it. I’m coming over with belts… and scarves. Be there in ten.”
Then he disconnected.
I stared at the phone.
Was he serious?
Holy cow.
He couldn’t be serious.