“We need to go inside,” I insisted.
“You want to see the drag queen show?”
“Yes.” I grabbed him by the arm. “Come on.”
After we paid our admission at the ticket booth, Landon went to the bar to get us a couple of drinks. I’d told him to get me something strong.
We sat through two performances. I refused to tell Landon what was happening until I was certain. When the D.J. announced the third performer, I nearly spit out my drink, because it only added to my suspicions.
“Ladies and gentlemen, our next act tonight is everyone’s favorite raven-haired beauty. Please, welcome back to the stage our resident belly dancer, Lanaaaaaaaaa.”
The sound of the percussion in the song vibrated through me. Landon was looking at me and trying to make sense of it. He followed behind as I moved through the crowd in a daze to get closer to the stage.
When I got a look at the eyes I’d spotted first on that poster—the familiar, crazy eyes—there was no longer any question. With my jaw dropped open, I turned to Landon before answering the silent question he was asking me through the troubled look on his face.
I mouthed, “It’s him.”
Lenny had apparently transformed into Lana. Everything about him was me…from the long, black wig, to the heavy eyeliner, to my exact, red, belly dancer outfit that was swiped from my closet.
Even the name was me. Lana—a combination of Lenny and Rana.
When Lenny’s eyes landed on mine, he didn’t even flinch upon noticing me—just kept on dancing to the music. His mouth curved into an amused, almost taunting smile as if he’d been waiting for this moment, for me to discover that he’d morphed into me.
I suddenly needed air. Landon chased after me as I rushed toward the door.
When Landon and I finally caught our breaths halfway down the block, we looked at each other in disbelief.
“Holy shit, Rana. All this time…he’d been studying you. He didn’t want to kill you. He just wanted to be you.”UNCONVENTIONALI was probably the least traditional bride in the world.
My flowers were picked from the garden my father had grown at Landon’s and my house. My dress, while designer, was snagged from a secondhand store. And it wasn’t white; it was champagne, a lace, vintage style. I didn’t have bridesmaids, either, because close female relationships had somehow evaded me.
A lack of adult female companionship was not something I was happy about. I’d let a lot of my high school friendships fade away after the pregnancy and hadn’t developed close bonds with any women in my twenties. It didn’t help that most of my co-workers at the restaurant were old Greek men. Aside from a couple of female cousins on my father’s side that I’d see once in a blue moon, there simply weren’t many trusted females in my life, no one I considered bridesmaid material—of course, aside from the one obvious female who was missing today. There was definitely a hole in my heart without Lilith here.
So, it was just Landon’s mother, Marjorie, and me holed up in the private room reserved for the bridal party in the church. Landon was around somewhere with his father and Ace, who’d flown in from California. My groom hadn’t seen me yet, and I was trying my best to keep it that way.
Landon and I didn’t want a big wedding, but my father asked if we would get married at St. Cecilia’s. It was the least I could do for Papa, considering I’d pretty much broken all the premarital rules he’d ever set for me. I knew the church wedding would mean a lot to him. We invited about fifty people, mostly from Landon’s side—relatives and friends of his parents. There would be about ten people from my side, including my grandparents.
Marjorie adjusted the thin, floral headband atop my head. As much as I loved her, I couldn’t help wishing Lilith were here with me instead. I’d hoped that she would come today, but it didn’t look like that was in the cards. We sent her an invitation, but that might have been pushing it, considering we still hadn’t even spoken since the night she found out the truth. According to Beth, she just hadn’t been ready to face me. That was something I had to accept.
I wasn’t expecting to feel this emotional. Even thoughts of my mother were creeping in. As much as I tried not to think about the woman who abandoned us, a part of me wanted her to at least know I was getting married and to tell her about all of the things she’d missed in my life. She didn’t even know she had a granddaughter. I just couldn’t swallow my pride long enough to try to find her. That was mostly because I truly believed she didn’t care and that I would end up even more upset.