Then I held the wig at arm’s length as though it might bite me.
“Whose is this?”
“Mine.”
“David.”
“Listen.”
“God help me.”
“They’re technically mine. I bought them.”
“You bought them?”
“Well, I ordered them.”
He looked embarrassed.
“They came in a very embarrassing box.”
I stared at him.
“Explain this to me properly. Right now.”
David looked at the wig.
Then the lyric sheet.
Then the sky.
As though some supernatural force might rescue him.
“Okay,” he said.
“Okay. But you have to promise not to laugh until I’m finished.”
I gave him a very mean look.
He took a deep breath.
The same kind of breath he used to take before quarterly tax meetings.
“Remember that charity thing at my office?”
I kept staring.
“It’s for the hospital,” he finally blurted.
“The children’s ward.”
I blinked.
“My office is doing a charity talent show.”
“A talent show?”
“Yes.”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“My colleagues said if their quiet accountant got up there and performed a certain song in full costume, they’d triple their pledges.”
He looked at me.
“Triple, Willow.”
“That’s real money for those kids.”
I looked at the platinum wig.
Then the sparkly dress.
Then my husband.
“So you’ve been rehearsing pop songs?”
“Every night after work,” he admitted miserably.
I stared at him.
“I hid everything in the trunk because you tear the house apart looking for birthday presents.”
He pointed toward the costume.
“I wanted you and Ava to be surprised at the show.”
“You were supposed to be my guests of honor.”
For a moment, I couldn’t say anything.
Then I started laughing.
I couldn’t help it.
The entire day of panic suddenly collapsed into something so ridiculous that I couldn’t hold the laughter back.
“David,” I said between laughs, “I spent all day convinced you had a secret life.”
“I do have a secret life,” he said miserably.
“It involves sequins.”
Two weeks later, Ava and I sat in the front row of a packed auditorium.
We were clutching handmade signs.
The lights dimmed.
A familiar intro began thumping through the speakers.
Then David walked onto the stage.
There he was.
My reserved, mild-mannered husband.
In a sparkly dress.
Oversized sunglasses.
