I cap the eyeliner and give her an annoyed look. Only, I can only glare at her head as it pokes into my doorway from the hall. “I’m not obsessing over my looks,” I grumble.
She lifts one eyebrow. “Really? You’re gonna deny it? Whatever, look I need your advice.”
“What advice is that?”
She steps forward. “How do I look? Stupid? Do I look stupid?”
My mouth falls open. She’s wearing a beat up pair of jeans, Converse, and a gray skirt on top
of the jeans. The orange and white striped shirt she had ordered online protrudes over her belly and the whole thing is topped off with a black leather jacket she borrowed from my closet. I close my mouth and smile. “You look really awesome. Exactly like Juno, right down to the smartass expression on your face.”
She rolls her eyes. “I just don’t want to look stupid.”
“Now who’s obsessing over their looks?” I mock, shooing her away with my hand. “Let me finish getting dressed so we won’t be late.”
She leans against the door frame, eyeing me as I grab a brand new tube of bright red lipstick. “Who are you supposed to be? A sexy janitor?”
“Seriously?” I mumble through drawing the lipstick across my upper lip. “You can’t tell that I’m Rosie the Riveter?”
Her brows wrinkle. “Who?”
“Wow, you have some American History learning to do.” I cap the lipstick and stare at my reflection in the mirror. Yeah, the makeup is a bit much. I did an entire face full—foundation, powder, that spray stuff that’s supposed to keep your makeup on all night, and overdone blush so my cheeks would be overly rosy like the posters. My dirty blonde hair is piled on top of my head in a bun with my bangs in a slight poofy bouffant. “Hand me that handkerchief?” I ask my niece, just to give her something to do besides gawk at me like I’m some kind of weirdo who makes up fictional characters to impersonate on Halloween.
I tie the red handkerchief around my hair, knotting it up top and pinning it in place with a few bobby pins. I roll up the sleeves of my thrift store work jumper to my elbows and, once again, look into the mirror.
My clothes are a little baggy and show absolutely no sexiness. But my makeup is drop dead awesome. I know it goes against everything I would normally believe in, but tonight I don’t want to be as hot as possible. I want to be normal Robin Carter. Wearing a normal, non slutty Halloween costume. I want to be able to be taken seriously. Because tonight, I have something important to say.
The fairgrounds are just as packed as they were for the Cockroach Festival, only now the cool chill in the air and the crunch of fallen leaves on the ground give off a different vibe. Summer is officially over in Salt Gap, Texas. Miranda messes with her phone for the entire drive, texting someone. And when I say someone, I mean Marcus. He’s pretty much the only person she ever talks to on her new phone, especially since she had officially severed ties with her old friends back at home.
We approach the gates to the fair and I pay the four dollars for our tickets to enter. Miranda’s belly bumps into me as she whirls around at the entrance with a big smile on her face. “You look ridiculous!” she says, giggling. Marcus appears behind us, dressed head to toe in filthy, ripped clothing covered with makeup and fake blood. His fake plastic ear is sliding down his face and the slight green hue to his face of makeup tells me he’s a zombie.
“My sister did it,” he says a little sheepishly. He touches his face and crinkles his nose. “I don’t know how women wear this crap all day long. It’s making my face sticky.”
“Theater makeup doesn’t feel anything like normal makeup,” Miranda assures him. He slides his arm around her shoulders and pulls her in for a quick hug. Her cheeks flush red at their brief embrace and it takes just about all of my willpower not to make fun of her for it. In fact, I don’t say anything at all. Karma and all that.
Lord knows I don’t need the bad karma fairy to pay me a trip of embarrassment tonight. My niece, who is totally crushing on Marcus, and Marcus, who is totally crushing on her, head off into the festival, both pretending that they’re just friends. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to handle my nearly eighteen year old niece, her baby, and the idea of her dating someone else. But as long as she’s happy and healthy and not doing anything too terribly stupid, I’m going to support her. Marcus is a good kid. Vandalism tendencies and all.
The object of my last few weeks of heartache stares at me from across the packed metal building. He’s wearing dark denim jeans, a black long-sleeved pearl snap cowboy shirt, cowboy boots—the same boots I fell into on the first night I met him—and a black cowboy hat. I’m not even really into the western hottie thing, but damn. Tyler wears his pitiful Halloween costume like God himself fashioned the outfit out of heavenly fabrics just for him.
“I’ll be back in a little bit,” I say, glancing to my left. To my chagrin, Miranda and Marcus are already gone and I’ve just spoken aloud to absolutely no one. A small girl dressed in black cat costume stares at me with painted on whiskers across her cheeks.
I’ve been ditched by my niece and now I’m all alone at the Halloween festival. There’s really no better opportunity for me to have a chat with the man who is still watching me from across the room. Right now is the perfect time. I know exactly what to say because I’ve practiced it for a good twenty-four hours.
So why am I so nervous?
I swallow back my nerves and dig up all that confidence I used to have when I was a real estate agent. In my few years of professional work, I’ve had to deal with all kinds of crazy clients and intimidating situations. All of the scary people and intimidating high-dollar sales situations had all been resolved thanks to my professional attitude and confidence. I can do this. This is exactly the same as dealing with millionaire clients.
Only it’s not like that at all.
My thrift store combat boots feel a thousand pounds heavier as I force them to step across the concrete floor, maneuvering around children in costumes as they run around to all of the game booths. My eyes fix on Tyler’s. He makes a little smirk as he leans back against the wall near the entrance of the main haunted house. The entrance is a black opening, covered with black plastic sheeting on all four sides. Strips of mummy cloth dangle across the opening, forcing you to feel it touch you as you step inside. One of Sherry’s brothers mans the haunted house, waving his hands and wiggling his eyebrows at each new person who dares to enter. Even though I know what the place looks like with all the lights on, it’s still pretty impressive-looking from where I stand. If I were ten years younger, I might be scared to venture inside.
My heart crawls up into my throat when I get close enough to see the sparkle in Tyler’s eyes. Sure, it’s just the reflection from a strand of purple ghost lights above his head, but there’s also a different look on his face than usual.
It’s now or never, Robin.
I take a deep breath. “I want to talk to you.”
He touches the top of his hat, tipping it down a bit as he winks at me. “I’d be happy to talk to you, ma’am. Your name is Rosie, right?”