Page 83 of The Big Easy & Other Lies
She didn’t answer. The weight of expectation swelled in my chest like the downstairs bathroom ceiling bubble as they all waited for my answer. I looked at Rhett who stared at me with stricken eyes, his remorse written in his face.
“I’m still mad,” I said. “But Bran’s right. And I’m going to need your help. I can’t even think about a soundtrack right now. I’ll get the sketches.” More tears threatened, and I hopped up to retrieve the portfolio from my room before I could blubber. Even though Livvie totally disagreed with me, and Rhett wanted to kill his cousin, they were ready to jump in with whatever I needed. I had no idea if it would be enough for me to pull off a whole new vignette by Night of Design, but it was enough for me to hope.
Delphine’s steady snores never faltered on my trip up and back from my room. Back on the front steps, I opened the sketchbook, and they all leaned in as I turned the pages slowly, holding my breath and wondering if they would get it. The drawings were a hair shy of crazy, the illicit offspring of eighteenth-century Rococo excess and seventies punk. The giddiness of splashing it across the blank white sheets had recaptured one of my favorite memories from childhood, when my mom threw a fairy tale party for my sixth birthday. She had worked for weeks, making the most fantastic papier-mâchéwoodland creatures mask for all the boys, and ornate princess headdresses for all the girls. She’d conjuredTrista and the Princeto life one afternoon in the dingy rec room at St. Thomas More Catholic Church.
In my private sketchpad, the dresses echoed the design of my mom’s elaborate princess hats, but short hems and deliberately unfinished edges intercut with refined lace and lush fabrics for contrasts. Expectation. Defying expectation. I explained each look, the colors I had planned, and the fabrics I might be able to use. Each time I turned the page, their murmurs of approval bolstered my confidence. When I showed them the last design, Chloe flat out gasped.
“That’s incredible,” she said, reaching over my shoulder to touch the sketch. It was a formal gown that was highly worked and yet deconstructed all at once.
“That stuff has swag and you need to make it,” Bran said. “What do you need?”
“Oh, you know. An extra set of arms. The perfect fabric. For Angelique to disappear forever. That should do it.”
“I can help with the first,” Chloe said.
“I bet we can handle the second,” Bran added.
“I’m all over the third,” Livvie said.
Bran’s lips twitched, and Chloe giggled.
“I’m not kidding,” Livvie said.
I patted her leg. “I know. But you can’t kill her.”
“I’m serious, too.” Chloe pressed. “My vignette is pretty much done, and I can help. I’m fast on a sewing machine.”
“And I can look for more fabric,” Bran said. “Find me an example of what you want, and I’ll tear this place apart until it turns up.”
For some reason, that was what made me burst into tears. Probably because I knew he meant every word of it.
I wiped my eyes. “Y’all have done way too much already. You three are over here most weekends as it is,” I said pointing to my friends. “You’re out of your minds to sign up for more.”
“Oh, I see. You thought that was aboutyou,” Bran said, shaking his head sadly. “Coming over here to help you is just an excuse to get out of our own houses. Sorry we tricked you.”
Even Livvie laughed at that before chiming in. “I’m not going to lie, there have been some gross moments, but we like helping you. Auctioning the stuff is kinda fun.”
Chloe looked unsettled, which bothered me, but three other heads nodded.
Feeling emotionally spent but with a new sense of resolve, I stood up. “Go home, y’all. I’m going to need you early tomorrow morning.”
Livvie cheered and Chloe asked, “Me too?”
I nodded. “I need all of you.”
Chapter 30
When I was really little, my mom used to take me to a park sponsored by the local Lions Club. The water fountain in the park was inside of this lion’s mouth. It was wide open, and you had to stick your head in to get your drink. I guess it was supposed to be funny, but it freaked me out. Every now and then I would play so hard that I worked up a thirst strong enough to make me brave the lion, but I hated it. I was sure its plaster jaws would snap shut and pop my head off at any moment.
I stood at the doorway to the den with that same feeling of dread and need mingling in my stomach. Delphine was awake and watchingSwamp People. With a breath to steady my nerves, I inched my way into the room, picking my way toward her chair. I stood there until a commercial came on.
“You need something?” she asked, glancing up at me.
It was civil, as far as exchanges with Delphine go. I hated to change the mood. I cleared my throat. “Something big and kind of bad came up at school. I only have a few days to take care of it. And I need some fabric. But I won’t have time to keep looking for stuff to sell. So I guess I need to change the terms of our deal, but only for a couple of weeks.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to tell me that you want to keep taking all the stuff you need but you don’t want to keep your side of the bargain?”
“Only for two weeks,” I said. “Until I get this project under control. It’s important.”
