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hs98150.jpgbuy prints of select halfsquatch photographs at etsy or dawanda. (prints of all photographs are available upon request) day 98

Having Stacey pinning, stitching, and hovering around her made Rebecca anxious. They’d spent three hours on the phone the day after the custody ruling came down, chatting like old girlfriends. Stacey had heard what Devin had done and soothed Rebecca’s embarrassment with a string of comforting expletives. Yoshi Oba was unimpressed as well and had just days before staged a ceremony during which Stacey, Jimbeau and and/or burned the things Devin left behind in his room at the Art Motel. Yoshi called it art and Jimbeau had it on film. Stacey promised to bring Rebecca a DVD copy when she came to fit her dress.

Yoshi gave Stacey the money to fly to Whitehorse. She arrived Monday, the day of the Sasquatch Summer premiere. She had e-mailed Rebecca photos of the gown. It was perfect. Stacey assured Rebecca that there would be plenty of time to make any necessary alterations.

“There,” Stacey said. “What do you think?” She walked Rebecca to the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door in Rebecca’s suite.

Rebecca’s mouth fell open. “It’s amazing. Oh my God, Stacey.”

In addition to paying for Stacey’s flight to Whitehorse, Yoshi booked and paid for two suites at the High Country Inn – one for each of the girls. “Everything is always better in a hotel,” she’d pronounced as she handed Stacey the reservation information. She’d also sent Stacey with a note of best wishes for Rebecca and a small package. “Yoshi thought you might want this.”

Rebecca took the package and picked at the corners of scotch tape, trying not to tear the delicate tissue paper Yoshi had used for wrap.

“What is it?” Stacey asked.

Rebecca held up the bottom half of a Russian nesting doll, the one that had sat atop the trash in Dr. Tuttle’s office. She was suddenly hit with a surge of empathy. The tears came.

“Rebecca, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“It’s just so sad.” The tears came faster and she started to laugh, relaxing in the familiarity of her feelings. Then the crying stopped and the laughter took over. It was infectious and Stacey soon found herself doubled over, giggling hysterically but not knowing why.

“Come on, let’s get cleaned up,” Stacey said, recovering. “We don’t have much time.”
As a finishing touch, Rebecca glued false lashes to her eyelids. “As if I need more hair,” she said to Stacey. “Hey, can you do me a favour?”

“Sure.”

“Can you maybe give me a quick once over?” Rebecca handed her a lint brush. “The shedding can be a problem.”

Stacey worked the brush methodically down Rebecca’s floor-length dress, picking up any stray hairs. “Looks good. So we good to go?”

“I think so.”

Stacey gave her hair one last look and headed into the hallway. Rebecca was right behind her. “Shit. Just a sec.” Rebecca darted back into the room. She found the bottom half of the matryoshka doll and wedged it into her purse.

tomorrow: Walking the red carpet.

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                                                                                                                                                          ©2008 pamela klaffke