When the door closed behind him, the noise from the bar—the house music, laughter, and sounds ofclinkingglasses—was replaced by the gentle notes coming from a nearby radio. After staring dumbly at the closed door for a few seconds, he shrugged and made his way down the hall, stopping at the indicated door. He could hear voices and laughter on the other side.
He knocked, perhaps too quietly, because no one bade himenter. Cautiously, he opened the door and poked his head inside.
It was a scene straight out ofThe Birdcage.
A row of vanity tables with bright Hollywood-style lights surrounding their mirrors were arranged along one wall. Wig stands with elaborately styled hair pieces stood on just about every flat surface. There were overflowing makeup bags, feathery boas, and so much sequins, Sam had to squint.
Cesar was at one of the vanities. He’d removed his long, black wig and costume and sat in a wig cap and a silk kimono. At the next vanity over was the Little Edie impersonator who looked so much like Little Edie that Sam had initially done a double take when they’d come on stage.
What made him do a double takenow,however, was seeing Candy sitting on a fuzzy footstool over in the corner. Her eyes sparkled as she listened to Little Edie regale Cesar with a raucous tale filled with dramatic flourishes and sound effects.
“Candy?” The surprise Sam felt at seeing Hannah’s sister was reflected in his voice.
Every head in the room turned his way.
“Sam!” Cesar rushed toward him with hands outstretched in welcome. “I’m so glad you came and brought all your friends!”
“When Fisher passed along the invite, I jumped at the chance to see you perform.” Sam allowed Cesar to drag him into the room. And he cautiously accepted the empty vanity chair beside Candy. “Hannah always said I should. And she was right. You were amazing.” He turned to include Little Edie. “Both of you. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.”
“Thank you, darling,” Little Edie cooed. Then Cesar made the introduction and Sam marveled at the surreality of shaking hands with someone wholookedlike Little Edie but whose name, as it turned out, was Dan.
“What in the world are you doing here?” Sam asked Candy, catching her hand between both of his palms and feeling the giant rock on her third finger.
“I came to see Cesar’s newest routine. Same as you.” She gave his hand a friendly squeeze.
He tried to remember what it had been about her that’d fascinated him as an eighteen-year-old kid, and couldn’t quite pinpoint it.
Sure, she was tall and tan and blond, built like the proverbial brick shithouse. But she was also…bland. A cookie cutter cutout of every other tall, tan, buxom blond who made a living as a brand ambassador or as an internet influencer.
Where was the sparkle? The pizzazz?
Where’s the purple hair and the devilishly dancing eyes filled with intelligence and biting sarcasm?
“I also came to talk to you,” she added and he blinked his confusion.
“Webothwant to talk to you.” This from Cesar.
It immediately occurred to him there was only one reason for Cesar and Candy to tag-team him.
“Hannah?” he sat up as his heart tried to beat right out of his chest. “Is she okay? Did something happen?”
Cesar cocked his head in consideration and a terrible dread fell over Sam. “Physically, she’s fine,” Cesar assured him.
“She won’t be fine for long if she keeps hoovering down a pint of ice cream every night,” Candy muttered.
Cesar shot Sam’s old high school girlfriend a disparaging look.
“What?” Candy lifted her hands. “It’s true. Every time I video chat with her, she’s face-first in a tub of Ben & Jerry’s.”
Ignoring her, Cesar grabbed Sam’s hand. “But emotionally? Well,emotionallyour dear, sweet girl is a mess.”
“What do you mean?” Sam barely recognized his own voice. It was so hoarse. “Like, PTSD from her ordeal or—”
“More like PTSD from a broken heart,” Candy interrupted.
Confusion was the first thing he felt at that pronouncement. Had Hannah met someone in the last two months? The second thing he felt was fury. What sorry sonofabitch would be dumb enough to break her heart?
Then understanding dawned, and the third thing he felt was hope. That damned perpetual hope was back.
