Second House from the Corner Read Free Page A

What’s going on with your hair?” she grabs a loose strand and flips it back, grinning.
    I shift my goodies to the side. “Yes, alone. Just catching a breather.”
    â€œWell, I’m glad I ran into you. I have a favor to ask.”
    I look at her.
    â€œRumor has it that you are a celebrated actress.”
    I wouldn’t exactly say “celebrated,” but the compliment remedies her flicking of my hair. White girls should really know better.
    â€œAs you may or may not know, the Dames’ annual fund-raiser is in three weeks and I’m the chair. We call it the Afternoon of the Arts. We have our headliner. Are you familiar with Audra McDonald?”
    â€œAm I?” My mouth gapes open.
    â€œI figured you would be. Well, she’s the headliner.” Monroe claps her hands. “It is such a coup to have her. I’ve been working with her manager for over two years to secure her.”
    â€œThat’s amazing. I saw her on Broadway a few years ago and she’s just awesome.”
    â€œTickets are practically sold out. Now we just need to fill in with our supporting cast. I’ve already contacted an opera singer, cellist, and a modern dance group. What’s missing is a dramatic interpretation of some sort.”
    â€œAre you asking me to perform?” My doe eyes widen, revealing too much glee, but Monroe continues on as if she hasn’t noticed as she runs down the business.
    â€œProceeds will go to the underserved girls at Cross River High. We are trying to extend their library by two thousand square feet and put in a media center. What’s the commercial you had running? Bounty?”
    â€œBounce fabric softener,” I say, letting it roll slowly off of my tongue. It’s the one thing that people know about me because it ran during the Super Bowl. That was more than two years ago, and I haven’t booked a job since. My agent doesn’t even call regularly because I missed so many auditions after Liv was born. I’m still ten pounds over my headshot picture weight and can’t remember the last time I had my mane colored and cut. But I’m about to work on some changes. Felicia Lyons is making a comeback.
    â€œWe need something funny, of course,” Monroe continues on, like she’s reading a checklist from her clipboard. “Needs to resonate with the two hundred and fifty women in the audience, something to which we can all relate.”
    â€œIt would be my pleasure.”
    â€œGreat. I’ll put your name on our nomination ballot and be in touch with more details.”
    My face slips.
    Monroe pats her lips. “Darling, the Dames vote on everything. But with your celebrated accomplishments, you shouldn’t have a problem.”
    â€œSounds good.” I take a step back.
    Monroe turns on her heels and gives me that toothpaste grin. “Ciao, darling, and be careful eating all of those nachos,” she says with a wink.
    Not at all what I was expecting when I stormed out of my house today, and my mood improves a bit. The theater is half empty and I let my mind wander over the excitement of performing for the Dames. Perhaps this could be my ticket in. An incredible show could earn me the coveted purple and yellow pin. The pin I’d never take off. The pin that would finally elevate me to …
    Girl, please, the Dames are not letting you in their posh little club. Not with your history , the damn voice interrupts my happy thoughts, and as usual I hate her logic, reason, and timing.
    I sink lower into my seat, dipping a salty nacho into the warm cheese and then shoving it into my mouth. My cell phone vibrates from inside of my purse and I see Preston’s name flash across the screen. I send the call to voice mail.
    The Dames will see right through this little facade you’ve created and see you as the fake that you are. You are a wannabe. Always have been and always will. She cackles.
    My knees knock