Chapter 11

Tallulah ripped open the package from You & Me. It was bigger than she expected. Inside, she found the last two issues of You & Me, a letter of introduction from Sharon, a letter of employment, and a list of articles she would need to write and submit. She read the list of articles she'd be writing - beauty tips, fashion trends, weight loss programs, and healthy eating.

She frowned. "What do I know about makeup?" she said out loud. She sat for a moment, then pulled out her cell phone and quickly dialed.

After two rings, Chloe answered, "What's up, T?"

"I need you," Tallulah said.

"What do you need? I got you. What's up?"

She told Chloe about the articles. "I mean, I don't even wear makeup, Chloe…well, not really. I need an expert, and that's you."

"Okay, it sounds like you need a full beauty by Chloe boot camp. I've been waiting for this moment!" Chloe announced. "I'll bring the beauty supplies. I have a closet full of stuff some of our makeup clients gave us. You're responsible for wine and party favors. When's the masterpiece due?"

Tallulah laughed. "I have two weeks from today."

"Good, we have enough time. Saturday, your place. And please have some real food, T. A bitch gotta eat. Maybe your fabulous neighbor can whip up something!"

Tallulah smiled. "Mrs. H? All she does is cook. I'll see what I can do. Thanks, girl. Love you." She clicked off the phone.

The silver-blue Lexus pulled up to the gray apartment building. Chloe put the car in park and turned off the ignition. She glanced at the several boxes in the back seat, then pulled out her cell phone and dialed Tallulah.

"I need help bringing this stuff up!" she said.

"We're coming down," Tallulah said and clicked off the phone.

Moments later, Tallulah and Zoe walked through the apartment door. Chloe smiled and opened the rear door.

"Beauty boot camp!" she said as she opened the door.

Tallulah and Zoe looked in the back seat. Their eyes widened.

"What beauty supply store did you rob?" Zoe laughed.

"Wow, you weren't lying when you said had a lot of stuff," Tallulah added.

Chloe reached into the back seat, grabbed several bags, and handed them to Zoe and Tallulah. She did this two more times until the back seat was empty. They walked into the apartment building, each with several beauty bags in hand. Once inside, they put all the bags on the sofa in the small living room. Zoe pushed the bags to both sides, sat in the middle of the sofa, and started looking through the bags. Tallulah sat on the floor with her back up against the sofa and motioned for Zoe to hand her a bag. Meanwhile, Chloe turned, walked into the kitchen, and smiled. On the counter was a plate of catfish, collards greens, mac n cheese, and a biscuit. "Thank you, Zoe!" she shouted from the kitchen. "Of course," Zoe replied.

As she went through the bag, Tallulah pulled out a Tom Ford Eye Quad box. "Isn't Tom Ford high as hell?" she asked.

"Yes!" Chloe said, with a mouth full of food.

"Where did all of this stuff come from?" Zoe asked.

Chloe walked into the kitchen, holding her plate and chewing. "It's from one of the firm's clients. This was in my closet. Now, most of this stuff isn't for Black skin, but a bitch love free stuff, so I took it."

Several hours later, the three friends sat in the living room of the small apartment, doing each other's makeup. Tallulah was finishing applying bright blue eye shadow to Chloe's eyes. "There you go. You look great. I think I missed my true calling as a makeup artist," she said. She cocked her head to one side, admiring her work.

"You mean a clown makeup artist." Zoe laughed.

Chloe reached out for a mirror, and Zoe handed it to her. She then flipped her hair and blew kisses into the mirror.

"It doesn't matter; clowns need love, too."

They all laughed. She passed the mirror to Tallulah, bright blood-red lipstick partially on her teeth. Tallulah smiled into the mirror and rubbed off the lipstick.

"Okay, now out of all of these products, what should I write about?"

A long silence passed in the room, then Zoe finally said, "So most of this is for white skin, right?" Tallulah and Zoe shook their heads yes. "So why not find makeup for darker skin? Whatdoya think?"

Tallulah looked at Zoe. "You're a fuckin' genius!" She leaned over and held up her hand for a high-five from Zoe.

"Actually, you can write about makeup for every bitch. That way, you got your bases covered," Chloe said.

Tallulah looked at her and smiled. "You're a fucking genius, too."

Chloe took a bow. "Now, you can't do all makeup, so I'd start with base and concealers. This way, you can talk about the various shades. It gives you more to write about."

Tallulah stared at Chloe. "Who the fuck are you?" she said, shaking her head.

Chloe winked at her. "I'm the bitch who just wrote your first freelance article for You & Me."

Tallulah walked back up the steps to her apartment, entered, and closed the door. The makeup, package wrappings, and bags covered the small room. She smiled and waded through the bags and sat on the small sofa. She could hear her cell phone vibrating and found it under a pile of bags, then glanced at the number. She didn't recognize it but answered anyway. "Hello?" she said.

"Lula?" the deep voice asked.

"Yes, who's this?

"Hi, it's Marc. Remember me from the shelter? Gave you a ride to work?" he replied.

Tallulah smiled wide. "Yes, I remember you," she said.

"So, how ya been?" he said.

"I've been good," she replied.

"I was wondering if you wanted to get together tomorrow? Maybe we can do lunch or dinner?" Marc said.

She stood up. "Ah, yeah, tomorrow is great. We can do either one. I'm good." She started dancing among the bags and makeup.

"Great. I can either meet you or pick you up?"

She stopped dancing and looked around her small apartment. "Well, I can meet you," she said. "What do you have in mind?"

She pushed her way through the bags and went directly to her closet.

"Well," said Marc, "how about lunch and maybe catch a movie or something?"

She moved her clothes around the closet and threw dresses, skirts, shirts, jeans, slacks, and sweaters onto the bed.

"Yeah, that sounds great. Where do you want to meet?"

"How about in front of the museum downtown? You know, the one with the giant fountain in front?" he replied.

She turned the phone to speaker mode and put it on the bed, then started sorting through her small wardrobe.

"Casual?" she asked while staring at a very short miniskirt. "Yes, casual. I'll see you tomorrow. Eleven-thirty okay?" he said. "Eleven-thirty is perfect. Bye, Marc." "Bye, Lula," he said.

She pushed the end call button and stared at the pile of clothes on her bed, then smiled and danced around the small bedroom. Suddenly, she stopped dancing.

Wait a minute, she thought. He called me Lula. She smiled and continued dancing around the bedroom.

Marc stood in front of the large fountain, watching the people as they walked by. He checked his watch; he was early. He sat down on the edge of the foundation and continued to watch the people. After several moments, he saw Tallulah walking toward him in the distance. He stood up and took a deep breath.

"Hi," she said. "Am I late?"

He shook his head no. "I'm always early. I blame my mom. She couldn't stand to be late," he replied.

Tallulah smiled and looked around. "So," she said, "what should we do?"

Marc looked at her. Her long dreads were pulled up on top of her head in a bun. She wore a pair of jeans and black shirt. He noticed she wore little makeup; he liked that. Other women he'd dated were more materialistic than she appeared to be.

"Well, I thought we could grab some lunch, then maybe we could go for a walk or go inside the museum or catch a movie. Your choice," he said, smiling. She nodded her head. "Sounds good."

They ate at a small cafe near the museum. He told her about his dream to have a large fleet of cars for his limo service. She told him all about her friends and her work as a writer for a small paper. She watched him as he spoke to the waitress and got the check.

"So, what would you like to do now?" he said.

She looked around. "Well," she said, "I'm not really in the mood for a movie."

He smiled. "We could walk and talk. There are some great shops around here if you like to shop."

She looked surprised. "You like shopping?"

He laughed. "I was raised in a house full of women, just me and my brother. Shopping was one of those things I had to do."

As they walked down the sidewalk, they saw a homeless man sitting, his back up against a wall. His clothes were black from dirt and dust. His hair was matted and snarled. His face was dirty, worn, and tired. Next to him was a shopping cart. It was full of tin cans, old worn blankets, shoes, and newspapers. Two cups were hanging from the cart, attached by a small piece of wire.

Marc walked over to him. He pulled out his wallet and gave the man $10.

"I know it isn't much, but it'll get you something to eat," he said.

The homeless man looked at Marc, then at the $10 he was holding in his hands. He didn't take the money; he just stared. Marc pushed the money into his hand.

"Take it," he said.

The man took the money and said. "Thank you. Thank you so very much."

"There's a shelter not far from here," Marc said. "You could get a hot meal and bed for the night."

The man shook his head. "It's always full, so I sleep on the street."

Marc pulled out his wallet again, this time producing a business card. "Here, take this. When you go to the shelter, show them this card. It should help you get a bed tonight."

The man took the card and looked at it, then put it in the pocket of his coat. "Thank you. You are a kind man," he said.

Marc nodded his head. "Now, you be sure to show them the card, okay?" The man nodded.

Marc and Tallulah continued to walk. "What was that card you gave him?" she asked.

"The shelter has emergency cards for those who are in dire need. It's like a go to the head of the line kind of thing," he replied.

"Oh, so what does that mean?" she asked.

He stopped walking. "It means he'll be able to get a bed and some food tonight."

They continued to walk in silence for a while, then she stopped and said, "I'm writing my story on the shelter."

He looked at her and said, "I hope it helps. If they don't get some funding soon, they'll need to cut back or shut their doors altogether."

"That can't happen," Tallulah said. "I know there's a stigma with being homeless, but sometimes bad things happen to good people."

He nodded his head. "I really worry about Lily. She's had a rough time lately. "

They continued walking, looking at the shops as they passed. Tallulah suddenly stopped in front of a record store. She grabbed Marc by the arm.

"Let's go in here and see if they have her record!" she said excitedly.

"You know, it could all be bullshit," he said.

Tallulah looked into the window of the record store. "It could be, but we could at least check it out. I think we should go into this store and see if they have her record."

As she smiled and opened the door to the store, a little bell that hung from the top of the door chimed. She turned and looked at Marc and went inside. He stood on the sidewalk for a moment, then shook his head and followed her into the store.

Tallulah spotted a man sitting behind a large counter. Behind him, high up on the wall was a neon sign that read Back in the Day Records. The man flipped slowly through his newspaper. He fixed his glasses and cleared his throat when he spotted Tallulah walking towards him. As she got closer, she realized he was reading a copy of Big World. She smiled to herself. He looked up from his paper and smiled.

"Can I help you?"

She walked over to the counter. "Hi. Yes. I'm looking for a singer. An artist by the name of Lily Duke."

The man sat up and raised an eyebrow. "Lily Duke?" he asked.

"Yes, I was told she made an album. I don't know the name," she said.

Marc walked up next to her. The man put down his paper.

"Well," he said, "I've never heard of her, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything. I can check the store database, and there are a few other databases I can check for you. Do you know her genre of music?" he asked.

Marc and Tallulah looked at one another. "Maybe jazz or R & B," Marc said.

The man walked over a computer terminal behind the counter and began typing. He looked up at Tallulah and Marc.

"This might take a bit. You can look around the store while you wait. I've got the largest selection of vinyl in the city," he said cheerfully and turned back to the computer.

Marc and Tallulah moved around the store. They saw rows and rows of albums. All genres. She wandered over to the jazz section and began flipping through the albums. Ella Fitzgerald, Sarah Vaughan, Etta James, Aretha Franklin, Nina Simone, and Billie Holiday.

These are some great Black women jazz singers, she thought to herself.

She was deep in thought when she heard the man behind the counter call out to her.

"Miss!" he called.

She looked over her shoulder to see the man gesturing for her to come over to him. She scanned the store for Marc; he was on the other side of the store, looking at albums. She walked over to the man. "Did you find something?" she asked.

He shifted in his chair and fixed his glasses. "I may have. Now, I checked about 4 databases I use. The first 3 didn't have anything, but the last one, I got a hit. Now, I'm not sure if it's what you're looking for, but I can order it. It's gonna take some time to get here, and there ain't no digital copies. So, it has to be the album."

"Okay," she said. "Does it show you a picture of the record?"

He looked at the computer screen and shook his head no. He turned the screen toward her so she could see it. "No picture, but there is some information. The producer was Owen Katz. It was recorded at Twilight Studios in 1961. That's really all that's here."

Tallulah looked at the screen, took a small notepad out of her bag, and wrote down the information.

"How much is it?" she asked.

The man hummed cheerfully as he checked the computer. "Well, it would come to about 18 bucks. If I order it, you need to pay for the shipping now, and that's another $12. So, an even $30 total."

"Okay, how long until it gets here?" she asked.

"Well, for about 2 weeks. I can call you when it gets here. You can leave your name and number."

Tallulah nodded her head and started searching her bag for her wallet.

"I got this," Marc said and handed the man $30. He looked at her and whispered, "Remember, we're doing this together."

The man took the money and opened the register. "Okay," he said, "it'll probably take a couple of weeks." He handed Tallulah a piece of paper and a pen. "Write your info down here. I'll call you when it comes in."

He watched as she wrote down her name and number. He then picked up the paper and read it. He raised an eyebrow and said, "Tallulah. That's a different kinda name. I've heard it somewhere before. I just can't remember."

Tallulah smiled and pointed to the newspaper lying on the counter. He looked at her, then turned his attention to the paper. "The paper?" he said, sounding confused.

"Yes, I'm a writer for Big World. Maybe that's where you saw my name," she said.

He looked at the paper again, then picked it up, opened the pages, and started turning each one. Tallulah and Marc waited patiently as the man carefully inspected each page. "Ah!" he said. "Here you are, Tallulah Brock. Nice story. I like this one."

She smiled and replied, "Thank you."

"I'm Pete," he said, extending his hand. She shook his hand, then he extended his hand toward Marc.

"Are you a writer, too?" he asked.

"No," said Marc.

"Oh, well that's okay. We all can't be writers, now can we? If we were, who would read what was written?"

Marc gave a half-laugh and said, "Well, that's true. I'm Marc." "Pete. I own this place."

"Well, Pete," she said, "please let me know when the record comes in. You've been very helpful."

Pete smiled. "My pleasure."

They left the record store and walked in silence for a little while, then Marc said, "What happens if you do find her record? What then?"

She looked at him and thought for a moment. "Well, maybe we can reboot her career? I don't know. All I know is that there's a story here. I can feel it. I think I can do some good."

He nodded his head. "I'd like to see her off the street. Sometimes when she talks, she has a faraway look in her eyes. I don't know what happened to her, but whatever it was, it sent her into a depression. She drinks to forget."

They continued to walk until they were in front of the fountain. Tallulah spotted a bench, walked over to it, and sat down. Marc followed and sat next to her.

"I had fun today," he said.

"Me, too," she replied.

He reached over, gently held her hand, and smiled at her. She felt a warmness flow through her body. She smiled and gently squeezed his hand. They sat in silence, listening to the rushing water of the fountain.

"Hey," said she suddenly, "did you know Zoe was going to host a fundraising event for the shelter? She's going to host an open mic."

"Really? I knew Anna was trying to put something together. An open mic is a good idea. When is it?"

"I'm not sure," she replied, "but what if we could get Lily to sing? She would be great." He cocked his head to one side, like a curious puppy. "I don't know about that."

She had a look of excitement on her face. "Yes, why not? We both know she can sing, and it's for the shelter."

"Hmm," he said. "She did say she wanted to sing again. But we would need to get her ready." "I've got just the person who can fix her up, with hair, makeup...the works!" Tallulah said.

"That's not what I meant," he said. "I mean ready to sing for a crowd on a stage. Have her sober."

Tallulah's face turned serious. "Oh, I didn't think about that." She paused for a moment. "Okay, that's your area. You said you wanted to help, and this'll help."

Marc nodded his head. "Hold up a minute. What do you mean, my area?" he said.

"Well, she trusts you, so maybe you can start to put the idea in her head. Practice singing. I don't know."

"Okay. We just need to find out when it is, then slowly introduce the idea to her," he said. She smiled at him. "See, we make a great team!"

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