Clarice put the entry on her calendar in all capitals.
DATE.
She had a date with a hot guy who seemed into her. A possiblymagichot guy.
What was nearly as amazing, Veronica had been nice to herall week.
Clarice had heard her yelling at vendors on the phone, so it wasn’t just that Veronica was in a great mood for some reason. But she brought in coffee for Clarice every single morning, and made a point of praising her hard work. Clarice knew that Veronica could be sweet when she wanted to be, she was just very rarely at the receiving end of it. It made the work day go by pleasantly fast and the DATE at the end of the week got closer and closer.
“I’ll meet you here at four tomorrow,” Veronica said, as she got ready to leave early on Friday.
“My date isn’t until seven,” Clarice said. She had double-checked Bruno’s text at least twelve times.
“We have alotof work to do,” Veronica teased her. “Ciao!”
When had Veronica gotten to the point of teasing her? But it was said so kindly and, honestly, she wasn’t wrong. Clarice was a fashion disaster. She was ridiculously nervous about the date and she wanted to look her best. She waved goodbye and got to work buckling up the agency for the weekend.
She spared a moment to worry whether Veronica’s sudden interest in Clarice’s love life had some kind of ulterior motivation. But as far as Clarice could tell, Veronica had no idea that Bruno had a kid at Tiny Paws, even if she did know that he was a single dad. There were a lot of day cares in Nickel City. Plenty of perfectlynormalday cares. Where kids couldn’t teleport or go invisible.
Veronica hadn’t mentioned the day care for weeks, so she probably hadn’t made the association. There had been a marked decrease in weird visitors that even Clarice could tell were not clients in the past month or so. Maybe Veronica had given up on her conspiracies, or at least gotten more discreet about pursuing them. She hadn’t threatened to evict anyone that month, either. It was possible that she was just mellowing out. She wasn’t a bad person, Clarice was sure. She was just mercurial and got wound up about things sometimes.
Clarice regifted the concert tickets that Veronica had given her to her elderly neighbors and was delighted to see them go out dressed up in clothes from a decade ago and come back late and laughing.
On Saturday, Clarice got to the agency promptly at four, her hair still damp from the shower. She hadn’t wanted to flatten it under a hat, so she came in with cold ears to an empty office.
Veronica arrived at four-thirty, took one look at whatClarice was trying to do with her hair, and said firmly, “Give me that curling iron.”
She approved of Clarice’s dress, but not her coat. “Take mine. You can’t wear a sleeping bag over a ballgown! Are those the shoes you’re wearing?”
“I only have one pair of heels,” Clarice said apologetically. “I got them for my sister’s wedding.”
She hadn’t worn them since, and she hoped that she wouldn’t pitch into Bruno’s arms when she tried to walk.
Actually, that wouldn’t be the worst thing.
Veronica did her makeup, which took nearly an hour of powders and contours and blushes and liners. Clarice didn’t even know the names of all the things she used.
“I’m afraid to blink,” Clarice said. Her eyelids felt heavy and her skin felt stiff, but her reflection wasamazing. Part of it was seeing her face without glasses, but Veronica really did have good taste. Clarice didn’t look even slightly like a clown, as she’d been afraid she would. Between the stylish updo and the flawless matte skin, she looked sophisticated and fashionable. Not like Clarice at all.
“We just have time to do your nails,” Veronica declared. She’d brought an entire caddy of cosmetics. “I have a quick-dry polish.”
Clarice shamefully produced her hands and let Veronica tsk over the uneven nails. She was surprisingly gentle and skillful, clipping, filing, and painting each finger after an application of lotion. They chatted as Veronica worked her magic, about going to the prom, and growing up.
“We were so poor,” Veronica said wistfully. “I made my dress from a set of old silk sheets I found in a second hand shop. I trimmed it with my grandmother’s fake pearls, and oh my goodness, was I in hot water when my mother found out. I thought my pa was going toskinme.”
It was hard to imagine Veronica as poor, and Clarice thought it probably explained a lot about the way she clung to appearances, and how jealously she fought for every penny. “I didn’t have a date to the prom,” Clarice confessed. “It was me and some other girls pretending to be brave by going stag. I had such a crush on this guy and I spent the entire night mooning around watching him and trying to dig up the courage to ask him to dance. His date probably thought I was a stalker.”
“Don’t get me started on high school crushes,” Veronica said, chuckling. “I had theworsttaste in boys. The badder the better, and every one of them broke my heart.” She sighed. “I think it’s kept me from being able to trust anyone, you know. Or have friends, really. I only ever learned to protect myself.”
“You have friends!” Clarice protested. “So many people love and respect you! Think of all the people at your stable! All the homes you’ve helped people find!”
“Look how far we’ve both come,” Veronica said, spraying Clarice’s hands with some sort of setting polish. “You look like a princess.”
“I feel like a princess,” Clarice said, and to her horror, she felt tears prick at her eyes. She felt so bad for ever thinking Veronica was a terrible person.
“No crying!” Veronica scolded. “Even waterproof mascara can only do so much!” She daubed at Clarice’s eyes and patted her cheek.
“You’re ready, Cinderella,” Veronica finally said, sounding pleased. “You’re perfect.”
