“But you would pick my nits?”
“Yes. That’s what friends are for.”
“Vivian, Dionne Warwick never mentioned lice in that song.”
“Maybe she should have.”
“I’m pretty desperate with this lice thing, so, well, I guess you can do a video about it if you’ll promise to leave my name and face out of it.”
“You’ve got it!”
I walked Rachel back to her house, and we tasked David with holding the flashlight so I could become a true nitpicker.
Chapter 23
After a blessedly uneventful Monday, Abi and I left forRise and Shine Atlantaat o-dark-thirty on Tuesday morning.
Abi, who was used to working into the early hours of the morning and then sleeping in late, could not quit yawning. No amount of begging had convinced Rachel to skip her faculty meeting to join us, but in the end, she brought us an eight-by-ten of her last school picture complete with frame so she could be with us in spirit.
Maybe the Mom Scouts had been my idea, but Abi and Rachel had been with me every step of the way. I wanted to honor that.
Or at least that’s what I repeatedly told myself as hair and makeup readied Abi and me for the cameras. A kind assistant briefed us on the best way to sit, telling us not to bob our heads too much. Even so, Abi looked a bit like a deer caught in the headlights. For the life of me I couldn’t figure out what had upset her. I would’ve bet good money Abi wasn’t scared of anything.
Then Atlanta legend Alavita Hodges sat down. “Hi, thanks for joining me this morning. I thought we might chat before we go live.”
“Well, thank you for having us this morning.”
“My pleasure. I only wish you could’ve talked Mr. Always into coming. Is he single, by the way? I could use a man like that in my life.”
I swallowed hard. “Who?”
“The neighbor who bought all the pads and tampons.”
“Oh. Parker.” The little video about his adventures in feminine hygiene had gained over half a million views and was easily my second most popular video.
“So that’s his name. Is this Parker single?”
Uh-oh. I shouldn’t have mentioned his name.
“His wife recently passed away,” I said.
Abi turned her head so quickly to look at me that she almost pulled a muscle.
Why did I lie? It couldn’t be jealousy. Besides, was it really a lie? She had passed away recently in comparison to, say, the Jurassic period.
“Too bad,” Alavita said, her smile never wavering. I couldn’t believe how beautiful she was. How old was she? She had to be at least fifty, but she didn’t look a day over thirty-five. Did she have a portrait of herself somewhere that did the aging for her?
“Could I possibly get your autograph?” Abi asked in the most solicitous, starstruck voice I’d ever heard her use. She held out a fancy pen and a small book that she’d been clutching ever since we’d left our purses off set.
“Absolutely,” Alavita said.
“One minute until we’re on air!”
Abi and I jumped, but Alavita was unhurried, looping her name carefully and handing the book back to Abi before turning to me. “Remember what we talked about yesterday on the phone, and I’ll try to make this as painless as possible. Just be loose and have fun.”
Abi shoved the book between the cushions of her chair beside her.
“And we’ll be live in three ... two ... one ...”
