Ann-Elizabeth
IT’S A LITTLE after three when Mama and I finish eating the sandwiches she’s fixed us for lunch. Henry sits beside me, his tail swishing on the linoleum every once in a while, as if he can’t quite keep his happiness in check.
I reach over and rub his ears and tickle him under the chin.
When he barks and gets up to trot to the window by the front door, my heart sticks in my throat for a second. I pray it’s not Lance, and it’s only now that I realize I’ve been expecting him to come back ever since I woke up.
“You stay here,” Mama says, following Henry out of the kitchen. It’s clear that she’s thinking the same thing. I sit frozen in the chair for a moment, but I can’t let her face him alone, so I walk after Henry and her.
But Henry is looking out the window, and his tail is now wagging. And Mama is standing with a hand on her chest, staring as if she can’t believe what she’s seeing.
“What is it?” I ask, stepping up beside her.
“Is that. . .” she begins and then stops, as if she can’t bring herself to say the words.
I look out the window, see the big black SUV in the driveway and the blonde woman who’s standing there talking with the driver. The beautiful woman who I instantly recognize.
But it can’t be.
“That’s not CeCe MacKenzie, is it?” she finally asks.
I want to say it couldn’t possibly be, but it is. It really is. “Oh, my gosh,” I say.
Just then, a dog hops out from the open back door. A tall hound who I recognize as quickly as I recognized her. I’ve seen him in countless magazine photos with CeCe. Hank Junior.
“What on earth?” Mama puts a hand over her mouth and adds in a hardly audible voice, “Well, have you ever?”
My chest is so tight that I realize I am forgetting to breathe. I let out a whoosh of air, saying, “Maybe she’s lost?”
She laughs a little. “Lost out here? I’m guessing that songwriter boyfriend of yours more likely has something to do with it.”
We both watch in stunned silence as CeCe and Hank Junior walk to the front door. The knock makes me jump.
“Go on and answer it, honey,” Mama says, reaching out to brush her hand across my hair.
“This is crazy,” I say.
Henry’s whole body is wagging now. He follows me to the door, and I pull it open far enough to see that I am not still asleep, and this definitely isn’t a dream.
“Hi, Ann-Elizabeth,” she says. “I’m CeCe Mackenzie.”
“I know,” I say, the words barely more than a whisper. “You are.”
She laughs a soft laugh and says, “I hear you were supposed to go to Homecoming tonight with a friend of my husband’s. He asked me if I could try to convince you it’s still a good idea.”
“Oh. Wow.”
“Is it all right if we come in?” she asks, waving a hand at Hank Junior who is trying to peer around the open door at Henry.
“Sure,” I say, stepping back so quickly that I nearly trip over Henry.
CeCe walks inside, HankJunior walking after her, his tail doing a lazy wag. He and Henry sniff noses, assessing each other with a playful stance before Henry does his puppy dance and takes off for the kitchen, HankJunior trotting after him.
CeCe looks at Mama and smiles, and I suddenly remember my manners. “This is my mom.”
“Oh, my goodness, I’m such a fan,” Mama says. “I so love your music.”
“That’s so nice to hear,” she says, again smiling her beautiful smile. “I was wondering if you and Ann-Elizabeth would like to come to our house and get ready for the dance. I have all kinds of primping stuff, and to be honest, I never went to Homecoming in high school. I’d love to be a part of helping Ann-Elizabeth if that’s okay.”
Mama looks as floored as I feel. “That’s just amazing,” she says.
“I don’t know what to say,” I manage, feeling as if I’ve stepped into some kind of time warp where reality cannot possibly be reality.
“We’ll have fun,” CeCe says. “All you have to say is yes.”
I want to tell her what I know to be the truth. That none of this will change the fact that I am not a girl who will ever fit into Nathan’s world. But Mama’s looking at me with such hopeful expectation that I can’t say anything other than, “Thank you so much. That sounds wonderful.”
*
WE ARRIVE AT CeCe’s house with Hank Junior and Henry in the second back seat of the Escalade, my borrowed dress hanging on the hook above my window.
CeCe makes chitchat with Mama and the driver while I try not to think about the flock of butterflies in my stomach and the extreme unreality of what is happening.
The house is beyond incredible. Mama and I both stare out the windshield as if we have landed on an unrecognizable planet. Which I guess we kind of have.
The front door opens, and out steps Holden Ashford. In real life. Holding the cutest little girl I’ve ever seen.
She has one arm around his neck, a pink stuffed dog under her other arm. She spots the vehicle, and her face lights up with the fact that her mama is home.
CeCe gets out, indicating we should too.
She walks over and kisses her on the cheek. I don’t know who’s more starstruck. Mama or me. But neither one of us can find a word until he smiles at us and offers his free hand to Mama and then to me. “I’m Holden,” he says. “This is Giovanna.”
It’s all completely surreal, the fact that we somehow find the ability to make small talk with him, and then follow the three of them into the house where CeCe leads us up a wide set of winding stairs and to a room she calls her getting-ready room.
“I like to keep a few secrets from Holden,” she says. “Men don’t need to know all the work involved in us making ourselves presentable, right?”
“Right,” I say, smiling.
“So let’s get to it, shall we?”