“For me? For me…my happiness has the power to make others unhappy.”
“Well, fuck them.”
It feels so good to laugh. To have this honest moment after falling back into my old self for the last hour by sheer force of will. “Them are my parents.” Emotion makes my cheeks feel heavy and stiff. “If I don’t go back to Charleston tonight, I’ll be…removed from the family. I’ll have my inheritance taken away.”
She jolts in her seat. “That’s what your father came to tell you?”
“Yes,” I say, reaching for the dresses Birdie is still holding and beginning to hang them up in order of the schedule. “Among other things.”
“Did you tell Jason?”
“No.” Urgency rises in my middle like a tide. “And I don’t want him to know. First of all…” In the tangle of my heartache, I was only partially aware of my reasoning for keeping my father’s threats from Jason until now. But the truth flows out, inescapable and real. “Jason left home at eighteen, made his own way. Joined the Army. Rose to the top of his profession and still he’s not satisfied he’s done enough. I can’t…I want him to remember me as my own woman who lived without restraint for two months. Not a girl whose parents still have the power to discipline her. That’s just sad. You know?”
“I mean, I get that? I get what it’s like to have your parents make it look so easy to be separated from you.” She’s quiet for a moment. “But I can’t help but think if you were just honest with my brother, you guys could work it out. Find a way for you to stay and…”
I can see her running into snags in that plan, just like I did. Or would have if staying was ever on the table. “He hasn’t asked me, Birdie.” My mouth does its best to form a reassuring smile. “Jason knowing why I have no choice but to go home won’t change anything. It’s where I belong. He’s going back overseas when you graduate.” I give a jerky shrug and lie straight through my teeth. “I’m good with everything. I’m good.”
Birdie scrutinizes me while I finish hanging dresses, a robe and her fitness category outfit. Next, I lay her makeup out on the table and begin applying foundation. We don’t speak again during the whole process of doing makeup and styling her hair, but I can feel her demeanor tensing as the clock ticks past, making mincemeat of two hours. The pageant director stops by to give us our specific call times, clearly curious about Birdie, who she hasn’t seen on the local circuit. This is where I’m able to shine, though, and the woman is laughing and giving us gossip on the judges by the time the applause sounds from the theater, the host having begun his spiel.
“Okay, this is it, Birdie,” I say, kneeling down in front of her as the director sashays away. “The pageant is going to feel interminably long while it’s happening, but when it’s over, you’ll swear you didn’t blink once. That might be fine if you did these all the time, but this is your only pageant. Just this one. So I want you to slow down and remember why you decided to do this in the first place. Okay? We found each other for a reason, didn’t we?” Birdie nods, continuing to resemble a deer in headlights. “Forget everyone else in the theater. You’re not here for them. You’re here for your sister. We’re here for her.” I reach for my purse and take out a slim jewelry case, handing it to Birdie. “Here’s a reminder in case you get overwhelmed out there and forget.”
Birdie stares down at the box for several beats before popping it open. She doesn’t cry when she takes out the charm bracelet. Or when she reads the inscription, “For Natalie,” on the dangling heart charm. Instead, her spine straightens and she gets some fight back in her eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever had more pride in anyone in my entire life. She’s extraordinary.
“Thank you,” she says, handing me the bracelet so I can clip it on. “Can you look out at the crowd and let me know where Jason is sitting? Just in case I need to focus on a friendly…and hairy face?”
“Yes,” I murmur, standing. I take a look at the clock on the wall and hand her the fitness category outfit. “Introductions and fitness are up first. Wave and walk. Smile with teeth. One side of the stage to the other. Make eye contact with the judges. Easy-peasy, just like we practiced. We didn’t suffer through all that running for nothing.”
“Got it.”
“Visualize it in your mind. I’ll be back before they line you up.”
“Okay.”
I can hear Birdie repeating my words back as I enter the hustle and bustle of pageant girls and moms, dipping out the back door and hurrying along the side of the building. Spectators are still filing into the entrance, trying to combat the Florida heat by fanning themselves with their tickets. I say a quick prayer that the side entrance is unlocked, but it’s not. Someone inside hears me jiggling the handle and opens it for me, though.