Page 93 of The Big Easy & Other Lies
I froze at the sound of Aidan Helm’s mellow Scottish brogue that I heard in every episode ofCatwalk Couture.Rhett gave my hand a light squeeze and stepped away. I turned to face the judges.
Smoki Branson stuck out her hand and I shook it, hoping my grip didn’t feel as weak as my knees. “This is incredible,” she said, touching the damask dress.
“It’s quite interesting,” Aidan Helm said with the same small smile I’d spotted in the audience. “Tell me about it.”
So I did, stuttering at first until he asked questions about the techniques I had used and where and how I found my materials. When he was done, Smoki Branson spoke up again. “Most of the student designers here don’t plan to pursue the field past their capstone project. I’ve met lots of aspiring doctors and lawyers and engineers tonight,” she said, sweeping her hand across the room. “What about you? What do you intend to do?”
I took a deep breath and then looked Aidan Helm in the eye. “I’m applying to the SoHo School. There’s nothing else I want to do. I don’t even have a safety college lined up,” I admitted.
That startled a laugh from him, and he studied me with intelligent eyes. “You have a lot to learn. There are some issues here with construction,” he said, indicating the gown.
I swallowed. “Yes, sir.”
“But the design is sound.” He looked it over again, his expression thoughtful. “Innovative, even.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a business card. “Have your Mrs. Broussard call me. We have a place for you.”
“Thank you,” I said, feeling dazed and stupid at the inadequate sound of the words.
He nodded. “In this case, I can truly say it’s my pleasure. Make sure you include this look in your portfolio application. God help us all if you have something even better.”
He smiled and moved off, leaving me with my jaw unhinged, feeling foolish and amazing and giddy. Smoki Branson lingered behind. “I love your eye,” she said. “Tell Mrs. Broussard to call me, too. She told me a little about your situation. Maybe if you had a mysterious benefactor funding part of your tuition, you might consider interning for her when you graduate at the top of the SoHo class.” She winked and followed after Aidan Helm.
My smile stretched wide enough to crack my face. And then I caught an achingly familiar scent, and everything froze. Stale cigarette smoke, menthol. And I heard it behind me—the cough.
Delphine.
I whirled and spotted her near the theater doors. She wore her nice black velour tracksuit and quilted red velvet house slippers. The large K-Mart bag hanging over her arm crackled as she shuffled over.
“Hey,” she said.
I could only stare.
She stopped in front of the damask dress and reached out to rub the fabric of the skirt between her fingers. “I can’t believe you did this,” she rasped, her breath short from the effort of walking. She thrust the plastic bag at me, and I took it, too shocked to even form a question. “This is yours,” she said. She touched the dress once more. “You’re just like your mother.” And without another glance at me, she leaned on her cane and hobbled to the exit.
Rhett hurried over. “What is that?” he asked, looking at the bag.
“I don’t know.” I watched the door swing slowly closed behind her, feeling full in a way I never had before. “I don’t even know what just happened.” I shook my head to clear it. “She handed this to me and said I was like my mother, and that’s it.”
But that was huge. Never once had she told me she could see my mother in me.
“Open it,” he urged.
I pulled the handles apart and a sob escaped me. A cardboard tube lay at the bottom. Rhett caught me as I collapsed against him, tears leaking out of me despite my best efforts to contain them. “It’s the Audubon,” I said. “She gave me the Audubon.”
“Hey, Tear Girl,” he teased me gently. “You’re only supposed to cry when things are sad.”
I sniffled. “There is something so huge inside of me right now that I think this is the only way it can come out.”
“Then step into my office and cry away.” He led me to the back row of the now dim theater. It reminded me of his first day at the school when he had pulled my puppet strings on stage. We sat in silence as I tried to make sense of Delphine’s gift.
After a few minutes, he cleared his throat. “I hope it doesn’t scare you if I say you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever known.”
I smiled. “No, but I hope you understand that I have to insist you stop stealing my lines.”
“Make me,” he said.
So I tried, and lost track of the minutes until somewhere onstage, someone cleared his throat, and a single spotlight shone to illuminate Livvie, Bran, and Chloe. Rhett burst out laughing. “What are you doing up there?”
“I think a better question is what y’all are doing out there,” Livvie retorted.
