Three years earlier…
“I got a new bodice this year—it’s like this deep copper color that looks amazing with my blue skirt—so if anyone needs to borrow my old one, it’s available!”
Wednesday Youth Night had wrapped up a few minutes ago, and the girls in my small group were all abuzz with Renaissance Faire plans. Jenny Beach and Crystal Moreno were Friends of Faire members with season passes for all seven weeks the Faire was in Southern California. Their memberships gave them each a complimentary ticket and discounts for more, and the two of them were trying to get a bunch of girls together to go.
“It was so much fun last weekend, you guys!” Crystal had stars in her eyes over some guy she’d flirted with at one of the drinks booths, and she couldn’t care less who came along. Jenny, on the other hand, was pushing a little harder, and I had a feeling she was worried about becoming a third wheel if Crystal made good on her plan to pursue her nameless pub boy.
“I’d like to go,” I said. I thought it sounded like a lot of fun. I knew parts of it were bawdy—Jenny called it an adult theme park—but I also knew things like that were often what you made them. I suddenly wanted to dress up in peasant garb and curtsy before Queen Elizabeth. The girls raved about the joust and the magic shows, the Scottish dancers and the aerial acrobats, even though they saw the same shows every year.
“What? You?” Jenny’s eyes widened across the table where we still sat in a circle listening to Crystal tell us all about Jeremy. “You think your parents would let you go?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. But I had a feeling they wouldn’t be accommodating.
Jenny and Crystal exchanged glances and Brooke Moore, who’d already snatched up one of the proffered tickets, cupped her hands about a foot out in front of her chest. “Cleavage.”
“Lots of it,” Jenny agreed.
“And cod pieces,” Brooke added, doing the same hand gesture above her lap.
“Cod pieces?” Across the table, Tanya Moore started giggling. Although I was sure she knew perfectly well what they were, it didn’t surprise me when she shrieked, loud enough for the closest boys table to hear, “What are cod pieces?” Tanya had a crush on Baxter Beach, Jenny’s twin brother, and she had no qualms about embarrassing herself—or anyone around her—to get his attention.
“Sh!” Crystal darted a glance around the room to make sure none of the adults had heard the comment. She turned her focus back to me, and in a low voice, she asked, “So do you want to spend the weekend at my place? Both Friday and Saturday night? Then you wouldn’t have to ask them at all. My parents are super busy with my brother’s soccer stuff right now, so they’re always glad when I have someone over. Makes them feel less guilty for leaving me alone so much.” She turned to Jenny and Brooke. “Hey, you guys should all just spend the weekend.”
“If you have it at Jenny’s house, I’ll come,” Tanya quipped, glancing over her shoulder at Baxter for the thousandth time.
“Then for sure we’re doing it at my house,” Crystal muttered under her breath, and Brooke snorted.
“Stand up,” Jenny ordered, waving her hands at me. I rose and held my arms out to the side; I assumed she was assessing me for costume fit. “My old bodice will fit you, but you’re a good four or five inches taller than I am. I’ve got several skirts and chemises so you can try them on, but you may end up showing a lot of leg.”
“By leg, she means ankles,” Brooke explained, her flat-affect voice making everything she said just a little bit funny. “Dirty, sexy ankles.”
By the time Friday night rolled around, everything was set. We worked late into the night determining which costumes worked best, how we’d wear our hair, and what accoutrements worked best with each costume. I loved every minute of it.
Saturday morning, we were on the road in Jenny’s little Prius by eight o’clock in order to find good parking, do a little meet and greet with other Friends of Faire members, and be there for the frenzy of activity right before the official opening of the gates. We were all feeling the tiniest bit sleep deprived and over caffeinated, but no one was complaining. Instead, we were singing. Loudly. At the top of our lungs. With all the windows open. And getting lots of funny looks from other California freeway drivers.
Which was exactly the way we wanted it.