Page 136 of Devils' Day Party
I spent day one of this mess acting like a spoiled brat, and I ended up off the edge of a cliff for it. Closing my eyes, I exhale and then open them when our waitress sets the coffees down on the table and takes our order. Pearl gets a spinach and mushroom omelet while I order a croissant sandwich and three different kinds of muffins. Why not? I may as well binge today. There are some bakeries and candy stores here in Eureka Springs I'm going to load up on while I have the chance.
“Okay, deal,” I say, and Pearl pauses with her straw halfway to her lips. I pull my own iced coffee close and take a drink. “You're right. And you can keep the dress if you want.”
She just stares at me for a moment before her cheeks turn pink and she looks back down at her drink.
“Well, you said you'd buy me a new one. I'd rather have that. You can keep your homemade rag.” She starts sucking on her coffee drink and I burst out laughing, letting my head fall back and not caring if anyone stops to stare. If you can't find time to laugh loud enough to piss somebody else off, then you're not really living, now are you?
“Deal. Let's eat and then get you a new dress. And maybe a hat from the haberdashery.” I grin and take a sip of my own drink, groaning loudly enough that I could play Sally in When Harry Met Sally.
Pearl looks at me like I'm crazy, but some of the ire leaves her expression.
After breakfast, we make our way up Spring Street, using the emergency credit card the moms gave me to buy dresses, shoes, jewelry, fresh taffy, and even two stuffy hats that cost a pretty penny.
“Your moms are okay with you spending all this money?” Pearl asks when we take a break at the Eureka Daily Roast for some chai tea. The answer to that question is a resounding fuck no, but before they ever find out I've blown every cent of credit they have, the day will start over and this little shopping spree will be nothing but a distant memory.
“They'll be mad,” I say, thinking about how they'd actually act if tomorrow really did come. “Likely they'll make me work in the store to pay it all back.” My lips twist into a smile as I look up from my heaping plate of pastries. Pretty sure Pearl thinks I've got an eating disorder at this point, but that's okay. “Want to see their store after we're done here?”
“Sure,” she says, her cheeks coloring pink again. I've noticed she does that every time I compliment her, like when I said her hair was pretty, or that she looked good in the emerald green dress she picked out. “Why not?”
We head up the sloping hill toward the moms' store—A Little Slice of Karma.
“They named their store after you?” Pearl asks, and I shake my head.
“They named me after their store.” We step inside to the musky smell of incense and the gentle tinkling of an antique bell that the moms got on some trip to Cambodia or something before I was born. The walls are painted a soft heather and lined with original art. Sculptures fill every nook and cranny, and handmade jewelry decorates the glass cases that line the edges of the shop.
“Oh, Karma!” a young woman calls out, moving out from behind the counter.
“Hey, Jaymin,” I respond with a grin, trusting my moms' employee to keep my ditching school a secret—at least for now. The school sends out robo-calls when a student misses class, but the moms are likely in the studio with their phones on silent; they won't know until later. Even then, it is Devils' Day.
Jaymin gives me a tight hug, her tortoiseshell glasses and turquoise hair giving her a funky sort of look that fits in well with Eureka Springs.
“Who's your friend?”
“This is Pearl,” I say, nodding my chin in Pearl's direction. “We decided we'd rather go shopping than spend Devils' Day at school.”
“Girl, the things I did on Devils' Day …” Jaymin laughs, and shakes her head. “Yeah, no, I promised your moms I wouldn't tell you the shit I got into. You know, so you don't get any ideas.” Jaymin winks one of her brown eyes at me and then turns to Pearl with a smile. “So, do you two need something funky to take to the party? How about a six-foot statue of a glittery penis?” She gestures to the statue in question as Pearl's mouth drops open. She recovers her surprise fairly quickly and ends up running a hand over the head-sized … well, head.
“Your moms must be interesting people,” she says with a raised brow. “Lesbians who sell giant dicks in their store.”
