Karyn stepped behind the folding screen and stared down at the bundle of fabric in her hands.
For a few moments she simply stood there.
The dressing room around her buzzed with activity. Through the thin screen she could hear conversations being exchanged in rapid French, drawers opening and closing, costume hangers rattling, and Claudette's voice repeatedly cutting through the noise as she kept the dancers moving toward whatever performance awaited them.
Looking down at the clothing she was still wearing only made her feel more unsettled.
The pale satin dressing gown hanging loosely from her shoulders was not hers. Neither was the cream corset beneath it. The stockings, gloves, shoes—none of it belonged to the life she had woken up expecting to live that morning.
Everything she wore had come from the collision with Simone earlier. Somehow, she had ended up dressed in another woman's clothes and trapped in a world that seemed determined to treat her as though she belonged there.
The thought made her stomach knot.
Carefully, she unfolded the costume Lucienne had thrust into her arms.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," she said out loud.
Even without understanding anything about theatre costumes, she could tell this was elaborate.
Soft pink satin shimmered beneath the dressing-room lights. Hundreds of rhinestones sparkled across a fitted corset bodice. Long matching gloves had been folded neatly inside the bundle alongside fishnet tights and a feathered headdress unlike anything Karyn had ever seen outside of old photographs.
She held the bodice up against herself.
It looked impossibly small, but somehow, she could tell it was not.
The costume would fit her.
One piece after another replaced the clothing she had acquired from Simone. The cream corset disappeared first, followed by the stockings and shoes. As the minutes passed, the strange outfit gave way to something even more unfamiliar.
Karyn was struggling with one of the fastening hooks when the screen shifted slightly.
“As-tu besoin d'aide ?” (Do you need help?) came the voice from the other side of the screen.
"I still don't know what you're saying," Karyn sighed.
The screen moved, and a second later Lucienne stepped around it anyway.
The older dancer took one look at the half-fastened costume and immediately understood the situation. Without waiting for permission, she crossed the small space and began fixing the clasps.
Karyn opened her mouth to protest.
Lucienne smiled patiently. “Tu te bats toujours avec ces crochets avant les grands numéros. Tu te comportes très étrangement ce soir.” (You are always fighting with these hooks before the big numbers. You are acting very strangely tonight.)
"That's too tight," Karyn complained as Lucienne finished securing the final clasp and stepped back.
She had not wanted to put the costume on in the first place, but Claudette's tone of voice earlier had made it clear that she was not a woman accustomed to being ignored. Even if Karyn had not understood a single word she had said.
Then Lucienne had appeared.
The smile that had been on Lucienne's face when she handed Karyn the costume had made it surprisingly difficult to refuse. Something told Karyn that this woman was kind and genuinely wanted to help her.
There had to be some reason why everyone seemed so determined that she wear this outfit.
She really should have paid more attention during French lessons at school, she thought. If she had, she might at least have understood a little of what was being said around her.
It was then that Karyn decided that once she and Jon escaped whatever this mess was, she was finally going to learn more French.
Karyn looked down. The rhinestone-covered bodice fitted perfectly. The long pink gloves reached almost to her elbows. The fishnet tights looked exactly like something she would never willingly wear. Yet somehow, she was wearing them.
“Voilà.” (There.) Lucienne said, tilting her head. She sounded satisfied, Karyn thought.
Then she picked up the enormous feather bustle waiting nearby.
Karyn stared. "Oh no."
Lucienne nodded. “Oh oui.” (Oh yes.)
For a moment it almost felt as though she had understood exactly what Karyn had meant. Perhaps it was simply the expression on Karyn's face that had crossed the language barrier.
Several minutes later, the feathers had been attached, the headdress pinned into place, and Karyn was beginning to understand why stage performers needed help dressing. Even if she was not a performer herself.
The costume felt less like clothing and more like a complicated engineering project.
Lucienne stepped around her, making small adjustments.
A feather here.
A ribbon there.
A straightening of the gloves.
Satisfied, she finally called across the room.
"Yvette!"
An older woman looked up from the far side of the dressing room.
Lucienne pointed toward Karyn. “Je crois qu'elle est ton problème maintenant.” (I think she is your problem now.) With that, Lucienne turned away to make certain her own makeup was still in order.
Yvette smiled warmly. Somehow that worried Karyn more than Claudette shouting at people.
