I pull out my phone and write the text.
I NEED YOUR HELP.
The bell on the door of the pharmacy jingles cheerily as I burst in the next morning. Jan jumps up from watching the Broadway filming ofHamilton, her face softening when she sees that it’s only me and not someone in desperate and immediate need of diarrhoea relief—a customer type more common than any of us would prefer.
“How are you feeling, love?” Jan asks, her voice wobbling with sympathy. “Leanne told me…you know…” Her eyes flicker down towards my crotch. She trails off discreetly, for which I am grateful.
“About the possible thrush!” Leanne calls out, her head popping out from the back, her voice resounding. An elderly woman browsing the loofah selection looks me up and down. “Apple cider vinegar, dear. A gallon of apple cider vinegar.”
“I am…fine. Very well,” I say to Leanne, pasting a smile onto my face. “Thank you so much for your help.”
Jan comes out from behind the counter and puts her hands on her hips. “You’re acting different.”
“Am I?” I shrug. “I don’t think so.”
“You are…What is it? Something’s off…”
“Wait…” Jan says curiously. “She’s beingnice.”
“OMG, that’s it. She’s being nice,” Leanne adds, as if the very notion is absurd. “What’s wrong?” She dashes out from behind the counter and places the back of her hand on my forehead as if to check my temperature.
“Oi!” I shoo her away.
“Seriously, though. What’s going on?”
I wonder what would happen if I told them that the reason I’m being nice is because I want help infiltrating a fancy gala so that I can find a man who has to kiss me within the next four days or else I will die once more and be swept up into a possibly unknown afterlife where my eternity could be spent acting as a guinea pig for a madwoman’s Cupid service.
“I’m actually here because, um, I’m going to a costume party and I need your help.”
The words feel entirely foreign coming out of my mouth. This is a sentence I never expected I would say. A sentence I never wanted to say.
“Theme?” Leanne breathes, pressing her neon-green nails against her chest.
“Famous couples throughout history.”
“Ah yes, a classic. What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking I need something that looks, but is not, expensive. The people going there are fancy as all get-out, and I really need to blend in.”
“Ooh, how about Celine Dion and René Angélil?” Jan suggests excitedly. “They wereveryglamourous.”
I shake my head. “I’m not sure the man I’m going with would be able to pull off René.”
“A man, eh?” Leanne raises an eyebrow.
“Just a friend. Well, not even that, really.”
“How about Barbra Streisand and James Brolin?” Jantries. “You could wear a lovely updo like Barbra does inFunny Girl!”
“Better…but…I’m not sure they’re obvious enough.”
“Youwantobvious?”
“I want to look good, but not too noticeable. Nothing too quirky—I need to look like I fit.”
“Okay, so…basic. Well, then you want Gatsby and Daisy. You can wear something sparkly and just get your not-so-much-a-friend into a tux. Hey presto.”
I nod. “That sounds doable.”
