She nodded and shot me a wistful smile. 揧eah.?She inhaled and sighed. 揟he way you talk about her, it抯 clear she抯 in every part of the store.?
I nodded and swallowed past the rock in my throat. Naya could see this was a mistake, too.
揂nd I want to honor that in the mural.?
My ears perked up. 揧ou do??
Her teeth flashed with her wide smile. 揂bsolutely. You have the same passion for books that she does.?
揑 do. I love stories. She showed me how incredible they were.?
Her tablet screen glowed as she scrolled through images. 揑 was thinking about what she used to say, there抯 a story for every soul.?
揟here is. There抯 a book out there for everyone. I love when people find the perfect book and come back and tell me about it.?
揝o, this is what I came up with. If you don抰 like it, that抯 fine, we can change it. It抯 just an initial concept.?
She set the tablet on the table and I leaned forward to study the sketch.
The magenta letters looped and dipped in a swirling, whimsical font. Tropical flowers framed the text, growing thick and wild with emerald leaves and vines. Birds perched among the foliage, a racoon peeked out from behind a flower, and a deer grazed along the bottom of the image.
A story for every soul, it said. Tears stung my eyes. It was my mom in art. My guilt vanished and resolve took its place. I wasn抰 erasing her. The mural was her.
I nodded at Naya and rushed to wipe a tear as it spilled over.
揑s this good??she asked, watching my expression carefully.
I nodded and another tear spilled over. 揝orry. Yes. Good.?
Her hand came to my arm. 揑t抯 okay. I抦 so happy you like it.?
揑t抯 beautiful,?I choked out, staring at the image. 揝o freaking beautiful, Naya. Can you send this to me??
Her face burst into a beaming smile and she nodded.
We sat at the bar for a few more minutes, chatting logistics and schedule. Naya would begin the mural next week. My stomach fluttered with excitement as I studied the sketch. My mind whirred with ideas for social media posts of the mural. I couldn抰 wait for the town to see it finished.
My dad wandered into my mind.
He might hate it. No, he would hate it. Anything that she didn抰 personally put her stamp of approval on, he hated.
Something sharp wrenched in my chest. He would just have to get over it, because the new mural was happening.
Naya slipped her tablet away and rose. 揥ell, friend, I抣l see you next week.?She shimmied her shoulders in excitement. 揟his is going to be fun.?
My heart fizzed with happy anticipation. 揝ee you next week.?
I watched Naya leave and checked the time on my phone. It was about an hour抯 drive home.
揅an I get you anything else before the show??the bartender asked. She had blue hair, shaved short on the sides.
揟he show??I blinked at her.
揟he drag show. It抯 the first Tuesday of the month.?
I gasped. 揑抳e always wanted to go to a drag show.?
She laughed. 揥ell, here抯 your chance. It抯 no Drag Race but it抯 a fun time.?
A prickle of nerves rose in me at the idea of sitting here alone.
Who cares, a voice asked in my head. A voice that sounded a lot like Wyatt.
I shot a smile at her. 揝ure. Can you make me something fruity and fun with no alcohol? I抦 driving.?
She winked. 揧ou bet, honey.?
She placed a magenta drink with a little umbrella in front of me as the lights dimmed and the music volume increased. A magenta drink, like the text on the mural. Like a sign. I smiled to myself and turned to the small stage area in the back corner. Rickety spotlights shook with the bass抯 low thump.
The bartender appeared at the side of the stage with a mic. 揋ood evening to all the girls, gays, and theys!?
The bar patrons cheered around me.
揥e抳e got another great show for you tonight. First up, she抯 demure, she抯 elegant, and she抣l never be caught dead without her pearls. She抯 singing Wouldn抰 it Be Loverly棓
Someone near me groaned and set their forehead on the bar.
摋from My Fair Lady for the hundredth fucking time, it抯 Josephina Duvet!?
The black curtain separating the bar from the back swished aside and a tall queen strode out with giant platinum bouffant curls, theatrical winged liner, and a wide seafoam-green tulle dress. The audience cheered and whooped for her as she took the mic and stepped onstage.
揟he rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain!?she boomed into the mic before she launched into an upbeat, pop version of Audrey Hepburn抯 classic show tune.
I sipped my drink while I watched her strut around the stage, dance to the music, and sing her heart out. Her makeup was so artfully applied, so fun and theatrical, and yet her outfit paid reverence to an era of women抯 fashion with precise detail. Her dress looked like it took time and effort. My gaze strayed to her cleavage. How did she make it look so real?