Geraldine puckered her red lips and blew a kiss at her reflection as she peeled a yellow post-it off the mirror and held the sticky square of paper between her glossy fingernails.
The audience loved you, the message read. Dropping the note she slid her fingers into the blonde mass of hair and lifted it.
The second best part of the night for Shane was hanging up Geraldine’s garish frock and kicking off her high heels. “That’s showbiz,” he whispered, wiping away foundation and mascara with a wet wipe.
“You stopping for a drink, honey?” Doris, in full regalia, called as Shane passed.
He shook his head and blew a kiss which she made a dramatic lunge at, catching the invisible token before it hit the floor. Doris knew he wouldn’t stay.
From the hallway Shane could see a warm slither of light on the stairwell ceiling. He hooked his jacket over the newel post and careful not to make a noise took the stairs two at a time. In their cramped bedroom Daniel’s night light glowed beside the camp cot which had been his bed for longer than Shane cared to think about.
“He missed you reading his bedtime story,” whispered Claire, coming up behind him and sliding her arms around his waist. “And you smell of smoke and cheap perfume.”
Shane snorted a laugh. “You’ll all thank me for it when we have enough cash to put the deposit down on our own place.” He turned and wrapped his arms around Claire, breathing in the baby smell of Daniel on her blouse.
What did it matter that he was a bin man by day and a drag queen by night. Coming home to his family was the best time of the day.
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