Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 122097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
The package underneath the hat box is wrapped in thick brown paper and held together with more baker’s twine. Collin’s name is written across the front in neat calligraphy. “Yours, good sir.” I smile, starting a pile for him.
There are ten more packages, all wrapped up in either pretty pastel paper for me or brown paper for Collin.
When that’s done, and I look up, I find him smiling. “Is your mood improved?”
He lets out a sigh. “I was thinking back. When I was like… eight, or something. Olive wasn’t born yet. And we got a basket like this for opening day. I don’t know what it was about, but I got a new suit.” He squints his eyes at me. “You know what’s funny?”
“Tell me.”
“I remember you that day.”
“Hmm. That was my second year in the children’s choir and I had been given a solo on Easter Sunday. I sang—”
“‘Rise and Shine.’ You sang ‘Rise and Shine.’”
“I did.” I giggle a little. “I was lookin’ right at you on the stage that day. Your suit was gray. With a cream shirt and tan waistcoat.”
“Yeah.” He kinda laughs this word out.
“And usually you just wore navy blue.”
Collin nods. “I hated those fuckin’ suits.” But he’s not upset. He’s actually smiling pretty big. Then he lets out a breath. “All right. I get it. It’s special. Let’s just... play along, I guess.”
I bring my hands up like I’m praying and clap them together. Then we open our packages.
They are all clothes. A dress for me and a suit for him. I’ve been given a gorgeous, drop-waist silk flapper dress in the prettiest peach color. Glass beads everywhere giving it the kind of heft I just die for because of how it will fall just so over my curves. It’s sleeveless and it’s got an art deco motif, a deep v-neck, and a handkerchief hem.
There’s a capelet too. All fussed up in tiny sun-colored glass beads and silver pearls. It’s very short, just barely enough to cover my shoulders. But with the dress, it’s just perfect. The lariat necklace is a double string of gold pearls that are so heavy, I swear, they might be real. I slip it over my head immediately. The two strings come together at my waist where a bronze clasp holds them together, then a single loop descends from there, dropping nearly to my thighs.
I even got a matching bag. More beads, more art deco motifs—stars and a starburst. Not to mention a dainty chain to balance it on my shoulder.
My breath comes out in a rush as I stare down at everything, wondering what part I’m playing today that they have given me such an outfit.
“Wow.” Even Collin seems impressed. “You’re gonna look good in that, Low.”
I smile at him, shrugging my shoulders up a little with excitement. “I am. What’d they give you?”
He pulls out the various pieces of a three-piece suit in a light brown color. Not wool, this time, but linen. There’s a peach tie that matches my dress, plus cufflinks and a pocket watch on a long gold chain.
“That’s nice, Col. And it looks a little more fitted than the last one.”
“Yeah. It does.” He looks at me and squints his eyes. “They’re letting me look nice? Why, do you think? What do they have planned?”
“Let’s see.” I dig through the basket. “Is there a script in here?” There’s an envelope with both our names on it. I pull it out and hand it to Collin.
He takes the envelope, opens it, but it’s just a card. Like a postcard.
“What’s it say, Collin?”
“It just says, ‘Welcome to Revival, Season Nine: The Prodigal Son Returns. Have a nice day.’” He puts the card down and looks at me. Unsure what to think.
“Maybe they just want us to have a nice day?”
“That’s funny.”
“Well, here’s the bright side. There’s no new script.”
“I didn’t even read the old one.”
“Well, I did. They didn’t give us any lines.”
“OK. So what are we supposed to do? I mean, I know what I’m doing. I’m standing at the north gate with the dog.”
“And I’m sitting in the pew fanning myself, waiting for my cue to faint.”
We both laugh. Then Collin says, “This is stupid.”
“I don’t know. If we don’t have any lines, maybe we really are just supposed to have a nice day.”
“I think it’s more likely that they didn’t give us any lines because I am not about to follow the script. So what they did is give Rosie Harlow lines. Or fuckin’ Grimm lines. Or whoever. So they can nudge and prod the story along without our participation.”
I take a step towards him, closing the little bit of space between us, and drape my arms over his shoulders, clasping my hands behind his neck. Then I lean up and kiss him. He kisses me back and while we’re doing that I whisper, “I had fun last night.”