Page 19 of A Little Naughty

“Ryan said the best time to wear a striped sweater is all the time, but I didn’t know what he meant. He said it’s fromSpongeBob, so I need to watch it.”

“Ah, I see.” I walk back to the stove to give the meat a stir. I know all about reading the room. “Did you like hanging out with Ryan and Owen today?”

“Uh-huh.” She nods. “I gave him his card back. He said he’d been looking for it.”

“What did you think about your teacher?”

“She’s nice. She said I’m really good at math.”

My eyebrows shoot up, and a giant wave of relief sweeps through my chest. “I didn’t know you were good at math!”

“I was good at all my subjects in school, but then they all closed.” Her eyes go back toSpongeBob. “That’s why we came here, but our friends didn’t meet us. So my mom went to find them.”

It’s the most she’s ever told me, and I carefully walk over to where she’s sitting. “I’m so sorry.” I trace my nails lightly over her back. “Do you know where they might be?”

She shakes her head no, not taking her eyes off the screen. I hesitate a moment, wondering if there’s another way I could ask this. The smell of browning meat hits my nose, and I hurry back to the stove before I burn dinner.

Grabbing the box, I dump the chili mix and macaroni noodles into the pan and stir until it’s blended. Then I put the lid on and set it to simmer. Nikki laughs at something on the screen, and I decide not to push our conversation. I’ll let her be happy.

Chewing my lip, I walk back to where she’s sitting. “I hope this dinner’s good. I’ve never been much of a cook. The guy at Walmart said chili-mac is the best flavor.”

Yes, I took some rando’s advice in the food aisle. Still, he seemed somewhat reliable, and I don’t want to be hard. We’re not in Branson anymore. I don’t have to fight, because people here are kind and helpful.

I put my hand on her forearm. “I’ll be your friend as long as you need me. I promise. And Monay is coming for a little while, and?—”

“Monay?” Her eyes blink up to mine, and the biggest smile splits her cheeks. “Will she bring Angie Dickinson?”

“Duh! Like she’d go anywhere without Ange.”

She hops up and hugs me around the waist, her entire demeanor transformed. I’m not even jealous, because I know the comfort of a six-foot-seven drag queen telling you everything’s going to be all right—even when it looks like it’s not. I’ve leaned on Monay’s broad shoulders on many occasions.

We dine on chili mac, and when it’s time for bed, I lay beside her on the twin bed scratching her back and singing “Willow” from my old set back in Branson. It’s the only sort-of lullaby I know.

When we were in Branson, I told Nikki about how Cass would scratch my back and sing to me until I fell asleep, and she asked if I’d do it for her.

As if I could tell her no.

* * *

At school the next morning,we say goodbye outside the building. Nikki’s not in kindergarten, and I know she doesn’t want to stand out more than she already does.

I’m still a little worried about her, but she’s going to be okay. We’re taking it day by day, figuring out our relationship and what happens next.

I’m on my way to the newspaper office, when I spot an unusually tall, extraordinarily fabulous woman in a huge, platinum Dolly Parton wig standing on the sidewalk in front of the Star Parlor, which is the tarot-reading studio owned by Britt’s mom Gwen.

She’s beside a stack of leather bags holding a pink toy poodle, and I break into a run. “Monay!” I squeal. “I thought you’d never get here!”

When I get close enough, she leans down six inches to give me a brief hug. “Hey, little girl, hey.” Straightening, her nose wrinkles. “Has this place gotten smaller or am I remembering it wrong?”

Hesitating, I look around at the town square. The courtyard is at the top of the street filling the entire block. In the center is a football-field-sized green park with a cute little gazebo straight out of the Warner Brothers’ backlot. Down closer to the El Rio restaurant and where we’re standing is the space reserved for the monthly Movies in the Park, which I love.

“It looks the same to me.”

“I guess it was dark, and we were only here a few hours.”

“Hello, Angie Dickinson!” I lean forward, wrinkling my nose at the tiny pink poodle in her arms. She licks me straight in the mouth, and I squeal.

“Angie!” Monay gives the little dog a bounce. “She’s picked up some bad habits since we’ve been on the lam.”

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