“Cop uniform. But like the Village People, not an actual cop.”
“Construction worker with the reflective vest and nothing else.”
“Lumberjack. Flannel, glitter beard, the whole thing.”
I blink, trying to keep up. “You want me to…strip?”
Patti waves a dismissive hand. “Just a little. This is a family-friendly show. Well. A chosen-family-friendly show.”
Anna’s scrolling again. “I vote lumberjack. It’s on brand. And we can rhinestone the shit out of a tool belt.”
Felix snorts. “Is that a euphemism?”
This sends them all into another fit of giggles.
Through it all, I just stand there, letting it roll over me. It’s chaos, but it’s good chaos. Every time I think I’m in over my head, I picture May’s face in the crowd, and the nerves turn into something a lot like excitement.
Dixie claps again, reeling them back in. “All right, so we’re thinking of leaning into the bear energy. Maybe some light, tasteful objectification.”
“Don’t forget the glitter beard,” Felix adds, dead serious.
Patti grins. “And the tear-away pants. I have a pair in the back that should fit him.”
I am, for the record, both terrified and a little turned on. “You’re sure this will work?” I ask a little desperately.
Anna steps in, laying a hand on my shoulder. “Listen, honey. May loves you. You show up on that stage, and he’s going to lose his mind. It doesn’t matter if you trip over your ownboots or forget all the moves. You’re doing something brave and ridiculous and beautiful, and he’ll eat it up.”
There’s a sting behind my eyes. I blink fast, trying to play it cool. “Thanks. I, uh, really want to make this work. Make it perfect.” I mean more than just the show, but I hope I play that off well enough. I’m not quite ready to bare my soul to this merry band of misfits. But it’s true. I want to make this work. All of it. The job, staying in Sleighbell Springs, my second chance with May. It’s not just a want anymore. It’s a need. The only future I see is one with us together. I don’t care what we’re doing or where we are, as long as we’re together. Getting to stay here with May, at Sleigh Queen, feels like everything.
Dee bumps her hip against mine. “You’re already perfect. Now let’s teach you how to twerk.”
We spend the next hour workshopping “bear energy.” Dixie runs the speaker, cueing up different songs, each more outrageous than the last. I try on a flannel shirt with the sleeves ripped off (Felix’s idea), a red velvet harness (Anna’s), and, for some reason, a set of jingle-bell nipple clamps (Dixie’s, obviously). We take a break so Dee can demonstrate her signature “sissy bounce,” which looks like a cross between twerking and a triple axel. When I try it, I nearly break the mirrors.
Honestly, none of their suggestions feel quite right yet. I think they know it, because every third suggestion or so, one of them throws out something actually plausible.
Felix comes up with another idea. It’s one of the more out-there ones, but it’s also the first thing I can actually picture working. He gives me an evil smirk. “You want to win, you commit,” he says, handing me a leather harness.
“You’re all insane,” I say, eyeing the contraption skeptically. It’s been the better part of a quarter century sinceI went through my leather-daddy phase, and I’m not sure I’m ready for this blast from the past.
“Put it on,” Patti urges. “Let’s see the runway walk.”
I duck behind a changing screen and wriggle into the harness. Just to give them the show they’re after, I sink my gray sweatpants obscenely low on my hips, showing off the ghost of what used to be a defined V-cut ten years ago, but is still pretty damn good for a man in his forties, thank you very much. The queens hoot and holler when I step out, and for the first time, I actually believe I might not embarrass myself entirely.
Dixie whistles, long and low. “If you don’t get a standing ovation for that, I’ll eat my own wig.”
I spin, then add a little hip pop just to hear them scream. It’s addictive, the way they cheer each other on. Somewhere in the madness, I forget to be nervous. We run the routine again, this time with the reveal worked in. At the appointed moment, I rip away the flannel I’m using to mimic a coat and strut across the floor in the harness and low-slung sweats, flexing and hamming it up as much as I can. The queens lose their minds.
Anna doubles over. “You’re going to kill him. Actually kill him. Then we’ll be stuck with a haunted bar.”
I laugh, breathless and sweating, but for the first time in a long while, I feel good. Confident, even. We take a break, collapsing onto the benches as Dee passes around donuts. Felix produces a six-pack of soda from somewhere, and we toast.
“So,” Patti says, settling in on my other side. “Let’s talk about the real reason we’re here.”
I brace myself.
“You’re in love with May,” Patti states, like she’s reading a weather report.
I sputter. “What? I mean, I—”
