It's a Fabulous Life, page 21
Gabriella bobbed her head. “I agree. It’s time.”
Finally, the chance to truly get involved. Clara slid off the bench to grab her coat. No, wait—her snow-white faux fur wrap. It paired perfectly with her gold lamé gown.
Bailey George had better get ready for her life to be transformed.
Jovanna leaned forward, pointing at the screen. “Uh, you might want to put a rush order on that.”
Clara turned to see Bailey walk onto a wooden footbridge. She was too focused on her phone to pay attention to the conditions. The icy patches and freezing water beneath.
“Oh dear,” Gabriella said.
Oh no. Clara tossed the wrap over her shoulders. “Send me to her.”
“Don’t slip and push her into the river,” Jovi said.
Their mother nodded at Clara. “You’re ready for this. We’ll be watching and talking to you if you need us.”
“I won’t let you down,” Clara said, as much for Gabi’s benefit as her own.
“Get those wings, Clara Angel.” Jovi fluttered her arms.
“I will.”
Gabriella raised her hand. “Good luck, and don’t muck it up.”
Then she snapped her fingers.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“No baaaars,” Bailey sang into the quiet. “No bars for meeee.”
She walked along the bridge, holding her phone toward the sky. Cheery strands of white lights wound around the side rails, mocking her with their energy usage. “Iiii haaaave noooo seeeerrrrviiiice.”
Someday, she’d laugh about this. When she was sitting in her cool Manhattan apartment, watching the snow fall gently over Central Park. Because obviously she was going to have an apartment facing Central Park.
Her boots slipped on a bit of ice. Oop. She lowered her phone. Better put it away just in case. Dropping it in Lanford Creek would be the craptastic cherry on top of the day. There should be reception at the other end. There had to be.
Whoa, this bridge was really slick. Melted snow from the railings had frozen in big patches.
She made her way more slowly. A strong gust of wind pushed her from behind. She lost her footing. Oh, shit.
The lights flared intensely and she swore someone said, “Not again.”
She spun around and fell to her knees. Oh God oh God oh God. She could in theory slip between the railings and fall into the creek.
Something gold sparkled in front of her. She grabbed on to it.
Silky material. An open-toed, strappy gold heel. A long pair of legs.
“Hold on, honey,” a voice said. “I’ve got you.”
What the …
Two beautifully manicured hands reached down and helped her to her feet. Bailey looked up at …
A drag queen.
A gorgeous drag queen in a classic caramel-colored wig and slinky golden gown and furry white wrap.
What the hell was a drag queen doing out here?
“Are you okay?” she asked, steadying Bailey with a firm grip.
“Uh, yeah, I guess. Thank you.”
“No trouble.” She smiled. “I’m so glad to finally meet you, Bailey.”
“Um, I, uh … Huh?” Bailey blinked several times. Nope, her eyes weren’t playing tricks.
“You don’t know me, but I know you. I know a lot about you.”
That wasn’t creepy or anything. Bailey eased her way back. “Wait a second. Kurt sent you.” She nodded to herself. “That’s something he would do. He and Arnie sent someone to look for me and thought it’d be funny if it was you.”
The queen shook her head. “It wasn’t Kurt or Arnie. I’m here for you and you alone.”
Bailey took a big step away. Officially super creepy now.
“Where are my manners? You’re gonna think I’m a serial killer.” She raised one arm and struck a pose. “I’m Clara Angel, of the legendary House of Angel.”
Bailey shrugged her arms. “Bailey George, from the unknown House of George.”
Clara Angel smiled, revealing a dazzling set of teeth. “Maria’s right. You’re funny.”
Of course. Now it made sense. “You know Maria.”
“Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure,” Clara said. “She is darling, though. I see why you like her so much.”
What the hell was going on? “Are you here for the festival?” Bailey asked. “Are you one of the vendors?”
“No and no.”
“Then how do you know me and Maria?”
Clara waved her hands. “This can happen. You’re not sure what to make of me, showing up like this. I don’t blame you for being confused. Let me explain.”
She cleared her throat. Bailey took another step backward. Great time for her phone not to work.
“The Angel family is comprised of my mother Gabriella, my sister Jovanna, and yours truly. We travel around, bringing joy and helping people along the way.”
“By putting on drag shows,” Bailey said.
“That’s a part of it. We’ve also been blessed with a little”—Clara wiggled her fingers—“magic.”
“So you do magic in your shows? Magical drag acts?”
“No, sweetie. We have the power to transform lives. We were called to your cute little town. And you, Miss Bailey George, have been chosen by the universe for a life transformation.”
Bailey bobbed her head. “Ohhh, you’re with that TV show that does makeovers. I get it. I was nominated, probably by Kurt and Arnie, to get a fancy makeover, and—”
“I told you, Kurt and Arnie aren’t involved.”
“Then it was Hannah. My sneaky sister.”
“Nobody put me up to this,” Clara said. “I’ve been sent here for you.”
“By who?”
“Well, specifically Gabriella. But she’s guided by a higher power. The essence that connects all living things.”
She had to hand it to Clara. The performer was committed to her shtick. “So you’re, what,” Bailey said. “Magical drag queens?”
“All drag queens are magical.” Clara set a hand on her collarbone. “Some more than others.”
No. No way. Bailey stumbled across the bridge in a daze. “It’s a concussion. I have a concussion from when the truck hit the ditch.”
“I sure hope not,” Clara said, coming after her.
“Then the stress has finally gotten to me. I’ve snapped. You’re a figment of my imagination.”
“Wrong again.”
They walked onto the woodchip path. Bailey turned to see if the Ghost of Christmas Insanity had dissipated. But there she was in all her glory.
She poked Clara in the chest. Clara looked down in amusement. “Those aren’t real, honey, but I am.”
Oh God oh God oh God oh God …
“I know this seems odd, but I’m here to help you.” Clara tilted her head. “You’re not happy. You haven’t been for a long time. Life has certainly thrown you some curveballs.”
“Seriously, how do you know that?” Bailey said, her voice wavering.
“I told you. We’ve been watching you. I mean, watching over you.” Clara snorted. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. We followed you around this week to see what we could do to bring back your love of Christmas. Your love for Winter Wonderfest. You’re nearly there. You just need a little more nudging.”
“So you and your friends have been following me around?”
“Sure have.”
“To … bring me Christmas cheer?”
“Uh-huh.”
Bailey scrunched her face. “And how is that not as bad as it sounds?”
“Because we’re going to help you live your life to the fullest.”
This was either the most bizarre pitch for a multilevel marketing scheme, or she really was losing her mind.
Bailey glanced over her shoulder. Cars whizzed by in the distance on Main Street. “Listen, Clara. I’m sure you put on a heck of a show. But I seriously doubt a drag queen, however fabulous—”
“Thank you.”
“—can magically transform my life.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Clara said.
“And anyway, if you’re here to help me, where were you when I needed a replacement act for our finale?”
“I tried to talk Gabi into—”
“And when I lost the checks? Any idea what happened to those?”
Clara shook her head. “No idea. I’ve just been watching you.”
“Right, right.” Bailey made quote marks with her fingers. “‘Watching over me.’ Could you have also watched the food tent and the Christmas tree?”
“The tent was not my doing. But the tree …” Clara looked away.
Bailey crossed her arms, waiting. Clara avoided all eye contact. “What about the tree?” Bailey said.
Clara drew a circle in the woodchips with her strappy heel. She mumbled something that sounded like, “I might have made the tree fall.”
“You what?”
She huffed and dropped her arms. “I made the tree fall. I was trying to stop it from swaying, but I’m still working on manipulating the elements. I’m not Storm from the X-Men.”
“Ah. You pushed the tree over with magical wind manipulation.” Bailey tapped her temple. “That’s what I thought it was.”
“I was trying to help. I wanted to help with the tent, but Gabi didn’t want to interfere.”
“Yeah, well, judging by what you did with the tree, I’m glad.”
“I came in here with a little too much force,” Clara said. “With the wind on the bridge. Sorry about that.”
“That was you? Why didn’t Donatella—”
“Gabriella.”
“Why didn’t whoever keep you from almost blowing me into the creek?”
“She’s busy jamming your phone. That’s why it won’t work.”
Bailey released a little cry and pulled out her cell. Still no service.
Clara rolled her eyes up like she was listening. “Well, you are,” she muttered, and not to Bailey. “She has a right to know.”
Main Street wasn’t too far. She could make a run for it through the snow. Clara wouldn’t be able to catch her in that tight gown and heels.
“I’m working on it,” Clara muttered, then refocused on Bailey. “We didn’t want you sending that email. The one about the job interview.”
“How do you …” Nobody knew about the interview other than Sammie.
“Sorry about the phone. And the wind. Both times. I’m still getting the hang of things.”
“So the masters of the universe sent you to help me?” Bailey nodded. “That checks out. A drag queen who performs civic duties but doesn’t perform onstage.”
Clara planted her hands on her perfectly round hips. “Oh, I can work the runway.”
“Then work it back to town and leave me alone.” Bailey headed for the road.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” Because I’m imagining her in my stress-addled brain.
Clara trotted after her. “I need your help.”
“I thought you were here to help me,” Bailey pointed out.
“We can help each other. Ouch! Slow down. These boots aren’t made for walking.”
She couldn’t help but turn. Clara hopped from foot to foot at the edge of the woodchip path. For an imaginary friend, she appeared to be in real pain.
Whatever the reason, she was there, freezing her toes off to talk to Bailey. “How can I help you, Clara Angel?” she asked. “Get you a ride back to town? Help you find your family? Although …” She flapped her arms. “If you’re angels, why don’t you just fly to each other?”
“I wish,” Clara drawled. “That would make travel so much easier. We drive around in an RV that has seen better days.”
“Very Priscilla, Queen of the Desert of you.” Maybe she was a lost soul looking for her people in hospitable, queer-friendly Lanford Falls.
“And, tragically, I don’t have my wings. I haven’t been able to earn them.”
“Sure.” Bailey gave what she hoped was a compassionate nod.
“That’s what I need your help with. If I rekindle your Christmas spirit, I get my wings. Not actual wings. Beautiful, feathery wings to wear in our show.” Clara draped her arms behind her, letting her furry stole drop. “Gabi and Jovi have them. I stand between them on stage dreaming of the day I can wear them too.”
This was some elaborate delusion. On whose part was hard to tell at this point. “Your reward is a costume?”
“Not just any costume,” Clara breathed. “Think Vegas showgirl, but better. White feathers flecked with silver and gold accents. They’re spectacular. They’re all I’ve wanted since I was in baby drag.”
Bailey took a step toward her. “Okay. I think I’ve got it. If you talk me into sticking around for the holidays, your drag family will let you don we now your gay apparel.”
Clara cocked one exaggerated eyebrow. “Fa-la-la all you want, but I’m serious. You don’t belong in New York. You belong in Lanford Falls. There’s so much goodness here for you. Because of you.”
Someone had to have put her up to this. Mom would go through the elaborate plan of hiring a drag queen to tell Bailey not to go. Hannah had to be in on it too.
“I do not belong in Lanford Falls,” she said. “And you’re doing a bang-up job reminding me of that. The festival’s gone terribly. I’ve ruined it for everyone.”
Clara shook a finger in disagreement. “You made the festival what it is. A wonderful event that supports the town.”
“I almost destroyed it. With your help. Thanks, by the way.”
“Today has been a challenge, but think back to years past. I’m curious why you decided to work on the festival in the first place.”
“Nobody else volunteered,” Bailey said. “We were in danger of losing the festival and all the stuff that goes with it.”
Clara cocked her head. “What stuff?”
“The influx of cash. Tourism. Publicity. Keeping our housing market healthy.”
“And fun. And the joy it brings to so many people.”
Like building Tropical Dominatrix with Maria. “I guess.”
“And the memories.” Clara leaned in. “Mistletoe Grove memories.”
“Hey, now. That’s private.” Bailey’s cheeks warmed. How did Clara know about that?
“Think of how many other couples have shared a kiss there. Or gotten engaged. I asked universal wisdom. Seven proposals have happened there.”
“It’s a perfect engagement spot.” She’d always figured it would be where she’d propose to the woman she wanted to share her life with.
“Winter Wonderfest made them happen. And you”—Clara tapped Bailey’s shoulder—“make Winter Wonderfest happen. If it wasn’t for you—”
“Someone else would’ve done it eventually,” Bailey said. “I just had this conversation with my family. I’m the sucker who won’t stop volunteering for things.”
“You’ve got it wrong. You’re the reason these things happen.”
“Because I feel enormously responsible for what happens around here. I have a legacy to protect.”
“Your father’s?”
“Yes.”
“Is it just an obligation, or do you truly care?”
“An obligation.” Bailey gave a firm nod, even though she didn’t fully believe her answer.
“Really?” Clara’s smirk told her she didn’t believe it, either.
“I mean, yes, I care. But look where that’s gotten me. Everyone else gets to do what they want, live where they want, while I’m stuck here.”
Clara studied her for several long moments. “You really don’t know all the good you’ve done.”
“Yeah, I’ve really set the world on fire,” Bailey drawled.
“You’ve made such a difference to so many people. Lanford Falls is a much better place because of you.”
Unexpected tears pricked her eyes. “But what about what Lanford Falls has done to me? I’m tired and grouchy and resentful. And I don’t want to be like that. I even pushed someone away who didn’t deserve it.”
“Maria,” Clara said.
“Yeah. I feel terrible. I’ve been a jerk to everyone lately. They would’ve been better off if I hadn’t stayed this week.”
“That’s not true.”
“Okay, I would’ve been better off. I would’ve had a great, restful vacation. Something I need. I would’ve met the people Sammie works for and maybe gotten the job because of it.”
“That job is not who you are,” Clara murmured.
This was getting annoying. “How do you know that?” Bailey asked.
“Because I know.”
“Because the universe told you? Sorry to burst your bubble, but the universe has been a total douchebag to me.”
Clara shook her head. “It doesn’t make mistakes. Sometimes it needs a little help, but everything has happened to you for a reason. You are where you’re supposed to be.”
“No, I’m not,” Bailey fumed. “Why do you keep saying that? I was just born here. I ended up getting stuck here. I wish I’d never stepped foot in Lanford Falls. I’d be so much better off if I hadn’t been born here.”
“What’s that?”
“I said I wish I’d never been born in this damn town.”
“A wish, huh?” Clara rolled her eyes up again. “Can I do that?” She listened or whatever for an answer. “I can? The whole shebang? Cool.” She smiled at Bailey. “Hang on tight.”
She rubbed her hands together. The snow surrounding them began to swirl, higher and higher.
What the shit was going on?
Snow enveloped them, almost blinding in its intensity.
Clara snapped her fingers. Everything went silent.
Bailey blinked, adjusting her eyes to the sudden darkness. It had gotten dark. The lights had gone out on the bridge.
No, wait. Yellow caution tape blocked off a creaky wooden bridge that was falling apart. She went to take a step, but the snow was up past her ankles. The woodchip path was nowhere to be seen. Just a lot of snow.
“Umm …” She looked around, trying to figure out where they were. “Is my delusion making me think we’re somewhere else?”
“We didn’t go anywhere,” Clara said. “You got your wish, Bailey George. You weren’t born in Lanford Falls.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
