Baby Needs a New Pair of Shoes by Lauren Baratz-Logsted Page A

with me.”
    â€œOh, uh-huh, yeah, we are,” Conchita said.
    â€œWhen was this decided?”
    â€œWeren’t you paying any attention to us at all?” Rivera demanded.
    â€œIt was decided, ” Stella said, “while you were busy daydreaming. But, don’t worry, we’ve got it all figured out… Golden Squeegee. ” Then she picked up my bucket and thrust it at me. “Now get back to work!”
    â€œWait just one second,” I said. “You’re all coming with me, with me and Hillary to Foxwoods—is that what I’m hearing?”
    â€œPretty much,” Stella said.
    â€œThen one other person is coming, too,” I said, “Elizabeth Hepburn.”
    â€œMy customer? ” Stella said.
    I nodded firmly.
    â€œYou’ve been talking to my customer? ” Stella said.
    I nodded meekly.
    â€œShe won’t want to go,” she scorned.
    â€œOh, yes, she will.” I nodded enthusiastically, knowing the answer instinctively. “She’ll be the balls of the operation.”
    â€œThe…?” Stella could barely mouth the words.
    â€œWait just one more second,” I said. “You, me, Hillary, Conchita, Rivera, Elizabeth Hepburn—” I did the math in my head “—there’ll be six of us. How will we all fit into something to get us there?” I eyed the Squeaky Qlean van, the only vehicle any of us owned that would be big enough. “I’m not going off to win my fortune in that thing.”
    â€œThanks a lot,” Stella said. “I’ll have you know—”
    â€œDon’t worry about it, chicas, ” Rivera said, putting one arm around Stella and the other around me. “Me and Conchita will work all of that stuff out. Delilah, you just be up early Saturday morning. Really, we’ve got all your bases covered.”

    Which was how I found myself, up brighter and earlier than usual on Saturday morning, surrounded by my helpful elves.
    Of course, my elves were all taller than me and their help was probably going to wind up killing me, so there was that, too.
    â€œIf they just shape them so that they actually have some shape, it’ll be an improvement,” Hillary said when we got to Nail Euphorium. “Maybe a little clear polish for gloss.”
    â€œShe should get a full set of acrylics,” Conchita said, “painted red.”
    â€œWho do you want her to look like, you? ” Rivera demanded.
    It was nice at least to hear someone else get asked that question for a change.
    â€œShe should get the acrylics,” Rivera said, “but then she should get a French mani, pedi, too.”
    â€œShe’ll look like Jackie Kennedy Onassis,” Conchita objected.
    â€œAnd this is bad?” Rivera said. “May she wind up with a mansion and a yacht.”
    â€œWait a second,” I said, which had apparently become my new favorite thing to say. “I can’t afford this. If I get a French manicure and…and…and a… pedi —” the word was so foreign to me “—half my stake money will be gone…and that’s if I don’t leave a tip!”
    â€œI’ve got you covered on this one,” Hillary said, waving her Amex gold card in the air.
    All I had was a regular Amex card, no gold for me, and as I’d shown when we went to Manhattan, I never used the damn thing, not even to buy something I wanted as much as the Ghost. For an addictive personality like me, that way, the credit card way, madness lay.
    â€œI already told you when we were in New York,” I told her. “I won’t accept charity.”
    â€œIt’s not charity,” she said. “It’s my birthday present to you.”
    â€œMy birthday’s not for another five months. It’s in January, remember?”
    â€œSo? Just don’t expect anything else on January 10.”
    It was the same at Now We’re Styling!, the salon