Page 92 of Here We Go Again
Using Rosemary’s makeup, Logan gives herself impressive stubble. Rosemary is heavy-handed with the eyeliner, and then they’re both fully transformed.
Joe’s record player is blasting “Dancing Queen,” and Remy is fixing whiskey sodas when they enter the living room.
“Not Remy,” he declares as soon as he sees them. He adopts an exaggerated French accent. “Je suis Madame La Tush.” And then, La Tush shakes her tush before passing Logan a drink and pulling her into a twirl at the same time. Remy’s drag persona looks like a slutty Marie Antoinette, complete with an elaborate powdered wig, white face powder over his dark skin, and rosy cheeks. There are even star stickers in the corners of his—her?—eyes.
Her lips are bright red, her fishnet stockings are white, and her heels are four inches high. The slit in the front of her poofy dress must require some intense tucking.
“You boys look fabulous!”
“So do you!” Drag King Rosemary says in a low timbre she’s decided to try out, because why not? She’s someone else tonight, like a character she’s invented in one of her fantasy novels.
Madame La Tush can-cans to the end of “Dancing Queen,” and Logan shouts over the music, “Where’s Joe?”
“She needed a minute to herself before joining the party,” La Tush says. “Now, who are you, sir?”
Logan cocks her chin. “The name is Chad. Chad Van Dyke.”
Remy hoots. “Love it! And who’s the new member of the T-Birds greaser gang?”
“Um…” Rosemary has no idea how to come up with a drag name.
“Danny Zukblow?” Logan offers.
La Tush shakes her head. “Manny Zuko? Kinhickey?”
“James Dick? Like James Dean, but you know. Dick.”
“Too crass and unoriginal,” La Tush declares with a head shake.
“Maybe I’m…Rebel Without a Cock?” Rosemary squeaks.
La Tush and Chad Van Dyke both lose their shit. “Yes! Rebel! Work it!” The madame snaps her fingers three times. Rosemary has no idea how to “work it,” but tonight, she’s Rebel. And Rebel gyrates his hips to the next ABBA song without overthinking it.
Logan cackles and Remy shouts “All tens for Rebel,” before a small cough from behind them renders the living room silent.
It’s Joe, sitting in his wheelchair.
Except, it’s not Joe. It’s Rita Morenhoe. And she’s wonderful.
Her hair is a brown crown of curls spilling down her back and framing her face. Her makeup is all earth tones, with shimmery brown eyes and clay-colored rouge, plum lipstick. But the dress is the main attraction: iridescent sparkles that dance like a disco ball and low-cut in the front with her perky breasts lifted majestically.
She’s smiling.
“Hot diggity dog, Rita!” Logan hoots. “You look incredible! How do you feel?”
Rosemary can see Joe beneath the wig and makeup, and he’s positively glowing. “I feel beautiful,” Rita says. “One last time.”
“I’ll cheers to that!” Logan holds up her whiskey and aftereveryone takes a drink, Logan goes into the kitchen and fills a low-ball glass with sweet tea for Rosemary. They take photos in character: Rebel leaning against the doorframe with his “whiskey” and a prop cigarette. Chad Van Dyke adjusting the knot of his tie. La Tush in Rita’s lap.
Remy and Joe rework their old choreography to accommodate Joe’s wheelchair, everyone dancing to the ABBA record, including Odie.
Then Odie is crying as the rest of them load into the Gay Mobile. Rebel is behind the wheel and Chad cues the Gay Shit playlist, and when they’re driving down the highway listening to Cher, Rosemary rolls down the window to let the sticky air hit her skin. Even though she didn’t drink, she feels drunk on this strange night already.
Drunk on the possibility of disappearing into this new persona, of becoming something she never dreamed of. Tomorrow, she’ll probably put on heels again, because she likes wearing heels. But tonight, she’s Rebel, and there are no rules.
The church in Pascagoula looks like any of the other churches they’ve seen on every street corner in the South. It’s a large, white wooden building with a giant cross in front. But there, next to the entrance and lit up by spotlights in the grass, is a line of old doors, standing upward, painted in the colors of the progressive pride flag.
When they get Joe out of the car and Remy back in his heels, Logan reaches for Rosemary’s hand, and they walk like that through the seemingly ordinary church parking lot.
