Powder. Eyeliner. Blush. Mascara. The order I put on makeup was the same every time, but I kept picking up the wrong thing. My head was elsewhere, busy worrying about all of the things that could go wrong on opening night. It wasn’t that I was worried about me, but I was worried for my parents. They’d put their reputations on the line to resurrect a dying restaurant, and the smallest misstep could result in a horrible review if the wrong person saw it, which would be an absolute disaster for Le Beau Tournée. Opening night wasn’t going to be business as usual, per se, but more of an invitation-only gathering: the first test for being accepted amongst the wealthy clientele of Carrinaw Island. I paid close attention to make sure every long brown hair on my head was pinned in place, and coated it in hairspray for good measure. Exiting the bathroom with a chem trail following me, I put on my shoes, grabbed my wallet and phone, and headed for the front door. “Ready?” my mom said, dressed in a sharp black skirt suit.
