Page 62 of Holly Jolly July

looks great.

JAMES

(sighing)

You were right.

ANNIE

Wow, it does feel good to hear that.

JAMES

So you don’t need to come back and

help ice the cookies. Unless you want to.

ANNIE

I do.

Annie and James share a quiet moment.

ANNIE

I should go. Mind if I take a few

of these to my sister?

JAMES

Of course. I can walk you back. Wouldn’t

want you getting lost.

Chapter 11

Ellie

After a quick visit to a thrift store, we head back into the bar. The parking lot has quite a few more cars than last time, which will be good for our cover. Mariah gets out of the car, fiddling with her outfit. She’s sporting a blond wig, tight black pants, and a cut-off Harley Davidson crop top. I step up beside her, wearing faded Levi’s and a leather jacket. My hair is tied up and covered by a red bandana, and I have a stick-on beard I borrowed from the costume department. Mariah’s done our makeup to age us both: me with weathered wrinkles and freckles from years of too much sun, and Mariah with lines around her mouth from chain-smoking cigarettes.

Mariah pulls at her shirt. “This is a bad idea.”

“What are you talking about? I barely recognize us. You killed our makeup!”

She’s not convinced, looking around like an animal caught in a trap and seeking a quick escape.

“Look,” I say, pulling out my phone and turning it to selfie mode before stepping up beside her. “We’re a perfect couple.”

She regards us both on the screen and gives a subtle nod. “We do look pretty good.”

“Smile!”

Mariah pops her hip and tilts her chin like a pin-up, and I give the camera a mean grimace before snapping a photo.

“Okay, yeah, we look the part,” she concedes. “But I’m a terrible liar. It won’t work.”

“’Course it will, soda pop,” I drawl in a Southern accent. “Like I said, it ain’t lyin’, it’s actin’.”

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