The narrow back hallways were full of furniture borrowed from the set design crew. Chaise lounges, overstuffed armchairs, wrought iron patio furniture, and mismatched tables had all been scattered throughout the hallways, arranged so that people could gather in twos or threes and chat over their drinks. LED candles had been stuck in jars, wine bottles, and elegant sconces - even affixed to a hat stand in one case - in order to give the hallways an intimate, flickering light. Miranda was impressed.
She kept walking, looking for a place to sit down for a minute. The hallways got less and less crowded the further she got from the stage and, finally, she turned a corner into one that was just about empty. Miranda couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw the costume of the person sitting alone on a green velvet pouf in front of a collapsible card table: a woman in a yellow dress with red polka dots and a fox mask that ended just below her nose was checking her phone. It was unmistakably Mrs. Fox, the wife of the character Miranda was dressed as.
The other fox looked up and Miranda could see her eyes widen behind her mask. “Seriously?” she asked, her mouth falling open. “That’s amazing!”
Miranda joined the other woman at her table, sitting down on a matching green pouf. “Great minds think alike,” she said.
Mrs. Fox chuckled. “I loved the book as a kid.”
“Me too!” Miranda grinned. “But whenever I talk about people just assume I mean the movie.”
“Right? I mean, come on. Roald Dahl! It’s a classic!”
“Though I have to admit that I did like the film,” Miranda confessed. “And I don’t usually say that about adaptations.”
Mrs. Fox nodded. “Me too! It was so cute. But I have a huge soft spot for Wed Anderson movies. I know it’s a bit clichéd, but I can’t help myself.”
“No judgement here,” said Miranda. “I love him too. When I was a teenager I wanted to be Margot from The Royal Tenenbaums.”
Mrs. Fox laughed. “Maybe not the healthiest idol to have.”
Miranda chuckled. “No, you’re probably right.”
“Your costume is really amazing, by the way. How did you make the furry mask and tail?”
“Thanks! I felted some old brown and red wool then shredded it and attached it to a cardboard form,” Miranda explained. “And the tail is more of the same but around a wire instead of cardboard. That way I can bend it however I like.”
“It’s so cool,” Mrs. Fox told her, shaking her head. “I’m feeling kind of underdressed now.”
“No way!” Miranda replied. “Your mask is beautiful. Did you make it yourself?”
Mrs. Fox nodded, one hand coming up to touch her delicately painted mask. “With papier maché, paint and a pen. I used to love to draw back in university. I’ll take any excuse I can get these days. But I was never any good with 3D art like textiles or sculpture.”
“Between the two of us we’ve got it made then,” said Miranda. “My drawing skills are pretty basic, but I love sculptural art.”
“Do you have a studio or an Etsy page or something?” Mrs. Fox asked.
Miranda laughed. “I wish. My day job takes up too much of my life. I don’t have time to make art full time, unfortunately. I just do little projects here and there when I have time.”
“Isn’t that always the way?” Mrs. Fox said sympathetically.
“Do you want to get a drink?” Miranda asked.
Mrs. Fox cocked her head to the side and eyed Miranda. Her brown eyes fit the costume perfectly, as did her short, gingery red hair. Miranda wondered if she was a natural redhead or if, like Miranda, she’d decided to dye her hair. Though Miranda knew that, if Jenny were here, she’d say that no one else was crazy enough to dye their hair just for a Halloween costume.
“How about this,” Mrs. Fox proposed, “I’ll come have a drink with you if you agree to have a dance with me. We can’t have come to the same party dressed as each other’s other half for nothing. I get the feeling we were meant to meet up.”
Miranda giggled. “I’d love to, Mrs. Fox.” Standing up, she offered her arm to the other woman. Smiling up at Miranda impishly, the mysterious Mrs. Fox looped her arm through Miranda’s, pressing herself to Miranda’s side. Enjoying the feel of the other woman’s breasts against her arm, Miranda snuck a look behind her to admire the curve of the other woman’s bum in her form-fitting yellow dress. Looking back at Mrs. Fox’s wicked smile, Miranda felt the first flickers of desire.
“Do you like my tail?” the other woman asked, her smile making it clear what she meant.
Miranda smiled sheepishly at being caught out. “Yeah,” she replied. “You did a really good job on it.”
“Thanks,” said Mrs. Fox, drawing herself even closer to Miranda. “I don’t know if it’s as nice as yours though.”
Miranda laughed, leading them back towards the stage. “Oh, I dunno. I think it’s pretty cute.”
Mrs. Fox giggled. She had to skip to keep up with Miranda’s longer legs and Miranda found it completely adorable.
Jenny had no qualms about wearing a coat over her costume – especially not when it was raining cats and dogs. So, once she’d dropped off her coat and umbrella at the coat check, she made her way downstairs, scanning the crowd for Miranda. Predictably, Miranda wasn’t checking her text messages. Miranda always ignored her phone whenever she was wearing a costume, leaving it in a pocket unless it was part of her ensemble. Huffing, Jenny tucked her own phone back into her voluminous wizard’s robe and headed for the nearest bar.
However, when Jenny finally got the head of the line, her order got caught in her throat. The woman behind the bar was Kezia. And not just Kezia, but Kezia wearing a skin tight black dress with a swooping neckline and black velvet choker with a silver bell on it. When Jenny finally managed to tear her eyes away from Kezia’s beautiful cleavage, she noticed that the woman was also wearing little cat ears in her red hair and had whiskers painted on her cheeks with black eyeliner.
Jenny’s first thought was how appalled Miranda would be by the costume’s lack of originality. Her second was to wonder what the hell Kezia was doing at the party, and her third was the realization that she, Jenny, was currently dressed as ancient, bearded man wearing what amounted to a blue silk muumuu and a purple cape. Not the most flattering ensemble.
Hoping that Kezia wouldn’t recognise her behind the beard and half-moon glasses, Jenny cleared her throat and said, “The IPA, please.”
Kezia cocked her head to one side. “Jenny?” she asked, frowning. “Is that you under there?”
“Uhhh,” said Jenny.
“Oh my God, it is you!” Kezia reached across the bar to tug down Jenny’s glasses.
Jenny made a face. “Yup, it’s me. Bet you’re reconsidering giving me your number now, eh?”
“Are you kidding me? This costume is amazing! You look just like Dumbledore! Wow, do I feel seriously underprepared or what? I didn’t realise you guys were going to take the whole costume thing so seriously. I mean, really, I guess I should have known. It is a theatre after all.” Kezia smiled sheepishly.
“Some of us would like to get a drink!” Behind Jenny, a huffy man wearing a papier maché mask shaped like a Toucan crossed his arms irritably.
Kezia looked past Jenny and frowned at him. “Have you seen this woman’s costume, sir? Do you have, like, no respect for the greatest literary classic of our time?”
“I don’t read children’s books,” the man sneered. “Some of us read actual literature.”
Kezia crossed her arms over her chest, pushing up her breasts in a way that made Jenny go weak in the knees. “Well, in that case, you can go wait in line at another bar. There’s a dozen of them, so I’m sure you’ll find one for that’s snobby enough for you.”
“Unbelievable!” Complaining loudly, the man grabbed his companion - a short man dressed as a flamingo - by the elbow and dragged him away.
‘The IPA, was it?” Kezia turned back to Jenny.
“Yeah,” said Jenny faintly. “Or,
like, marriage. Either way, really. I’m cool.”
Kezia giggled. “Give me one second, okay?”
Jenny nodded as Kezia tapped the other bartender on the shoulder and whispered something in his ear. He raised an eyebrow at her then nodded, waving her away. Slipping out from behind the bar, Kezia joined Jenny on the other side. “I’m on break for the next 20 minutes,” she said, weaving her fingers through Jenny’s and smiling invitingly.
“I can do a lot in 20 minutes,” Jenny replied.
Kezia laughed, “I bet you can.”
“Come on.” Unable to believe her luck, Jenny tugged Kezia towards a Staff Only exit. “I know somewhere quiet where we can…talk.”
Giggling, Kezia followed Jenny’s lead. A few minutes later, as they making out in the stairwell that lead to the offices upstairs, Jenny silently reminded herself to buy Lily a thank-you present.
The party went on and Miranda was having such a good time that she forgot to worry about finding Jenny. Mrs. Fox, whoever she was, not only looked to die for in her cute little dress but she was making Miranda cry with laughter. She had something snappy to say about everyone’s costume and Miranda’s abs were starting to hurt from laughing so much.
“No, seriously,” Mrs. Fox waved her G&T around to emphasize her point. “What lesbian couple would come to a Hallowe’en party dressed as Ellen and Portia? That’s about as original as going as Crocodile Dundee if you’re Australian. I mean, come on. Have some imagination, people.”
“But they’re so cuuute,” Miranda said, leaning across Mrs. Fox to take a peek at the middle-aged couple dancing the foxtrot. “Not to mention they’re pretty amazing dancers. Jesus, I can only just barely manage a waltz.”
“True,” said Mrs. Fox, sipping her drink. “Your ballroom dance education does leave something to be desired.”
Miranda pouted at her partner. “I really am sorry for stepping on your foot. God, that was so embarrassing. I can’t believe you kept dancing with me.”
“What can I say?” said Mrs. Fox. “I’m a sucker for a good costume. Besides, we make a way cuter couple than Elaine and Portia over there.”
Miranda bit her lip, “Yeah, we do.” She caught the other woman’s eye and they smiled at each other. Without taking her eyes off the other woman, Miranda reached out to put her drink down on a nearby table and missed, spilling the martini all over herself instead.
“Oh shit!” she gasped as the chilly alcohol soaked into her costume, staining her white shirt pink and her beige pants an ugly brown.
Mrs. Fox giggled, carefully setting her own drink sown on the table. “Let’s get you to the bathroom,” she said, slipping her hand under Miranda’s elbow.
“Oh God, I’m such a klutz,” Miranda moaned, following Mrs. Fox through the crowd.
“Nah, you were just distracted,” the other woman winked, her thumb stroking Miranda’s inner arm.
Miranda smiled sheepishly. “You can say that again.” There was something about this stranger that made Miranda feel like, no matter what she did, the other woman would have her back.
The first bathroom they tried was crammed with women all waiting for their turn in one of the over-worked toilet stalls.
“Come on,” said Mrs. Fox. “There’s a bathroom downstairs below the actor’s dressing rooms that no one ever uses.”
Miranda nodded, knowing the one she meant. She must be one of our regular actors, Miranda thought.
Quickly backing out of the over-heated bathroom, they made their way backstage and, ignoring a Staff Only sign, they headed down into the dark, concrete basement.
“This place didn’t need any decorations to be spooky,” said Mrs. Fox as they walked through the dim halls.
“Ugh, I know. It gives me the creeps,” said Miranda.
“Here we go,” Mrs. Fox pushed open the bathroom door and flicked on the light.
Miranda headed to the sink, hoping that the pipes were feeling cooperative. They weren’t. Groaning, she twisted them back and forth in both directions without any luck. “I swear, sometimes this place drives me crazy,” she sighed.
“Let me try,” said her companion, yanking hard on the cold water. There was an ominous gulping sound, a loud groan, and, suddenly, a freezing cold jet of water spurted from below the sink. The blocked pipe had been too worn to sustain the pressure and had peeled away from the wall, simultaneously dousing the women with its icy contents.
They both screamed in unison, instinctively turning towards each other, their arms coming up around one another for protection.
Then, as suddenly as it started, the water disappeared, leaving nothing but a trickle dripping out of the broken pipe.
“Oh my God,” gasped Mrs. Fox.
“Well,” said Miranda, looking down at her shirt, “at least the stain is gone.”
Mrs. Fox giggled. “Yeah, at least there’s that. But we can’t go back to the party like this,” she said, eyeing her own dripping costume.
Miranda shook her head. “Let’s go to my place. It’s only four blocks away. It’s raining outside but, I mean, it’s not like we can get any wetter.”
“Very true,” Mrs. Fox agreed. “You don’t mind?”
“Of course not,” said Miranda. “We can dry off and warm up a bit. I’ve got a million cozy sweaters you can borrow. Come on.” Taking the other woman by the hand, she led them back out of the basement and out into the rainy evening.
“Oh God, it’s freezing!” Mrs. Fox squealed as they stepped outside.
“I always did think that Hallowe’en should have been in the summer,” Miranda shouted over the noise of the street. “Come on! Let’s run!”
Chapter 5
A few minutes later, the women were slipping up the narrow stairs to Miranda’s apartment. She rented a studio apartment in the attic of an old character house that was squashed between two new apartment buildings. Despite her decent salary, real estate in Vancouver was worth its weight in gold and the attic was all she could afford.
Laughing through their chattering teeth, they hugged each other as Miranda fumbled with her keys. “Drinks, taps, keys. God, I have no manual dexterity whatsoever today!” she moaned as she leaned her shoulder against the door, trying to force it to open. Finally the tumblers turned and the door swung open, the two women stumbling in after it.
“Oh wow!” Mrs. Fox straightened up, looking around the small, colourful apartment. “This place is great!” Crossing to the glass-paned kitchen cabinets, she pointed to their handmade contents. “Did you make all these?” she asked.
Miranda nodded.
“What about this?” she asked again, pointing to a delicate felt-and-lace wall hanging that hung next to the door.
Miranda nodded. “Yeah, that too. I’m doing a lot of textile art at the moment. I’m working on a dress when I have time,” she said, gesturing to the far side of the room where a long, white dress that looked like it was made of cobwebs was standing tucked behind her bed.
“You’re so talented,” the other woman said. “God, you really need to quit your day job.”
Miranda laughed wryly. “I wish.”
“I mean it,” Mrs. Fox said, hesitantly touching the wall hanging with one a fingertip. “You know, I have a friend who has a gallery over on Granville Island. She would love this stuff. I could give her a call if you want.”
“Oh, I…thank you. Really. But, I don’t really have the time or...” Miranda trailed off, trying to think of an excuse that wasn’t ‘I’m afraid’.
The other woman looked at Miranda for a moment before crossing back to her. “You should have more confidence in yourself, Mr. Fox,” she said, taking Miranda’s face in her hands. “I’ve only just met you and even I can see how fantastic you are.”
Miranda blushed behind her mask. “Thanks,” she whispered.
Mrs. Fox smiled and leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to Miranda’s lips. “Why don’t we get out of these wet clothes?” she suggested.
“Good idea,”
said Miranda as she gently tugged the other woman’s mask off. Then she froze. “Lily?” she gaped.
Lily, Miranda’s least favorite co-worker, frowned and pulled off Miranda’s mask. “Oh my God,” she said. “Are you kidding?”
The two women stared at each other.
“But you were so funny,” said Miranda, her tone more surprised than accusatory.
“And you were so cute,” Lily replied, equally baffled.
“I…” Miranda looked down at the Mrs. Fox mask she was still holding. “I liked you,” she said.
Lily gave her a lop-sided smile. “Do you think you could still like me?” she asked.
Miranda looked up. “Did you dye your hair for the costume?” she asked.
Puzzled, Lily nodded.
“Yeah,” said Miranda, “I think I could still like you.” And, with that, she kissed her back.
Jack (Secret Revenge #1) Page 42
