“Oh, go on now with your foolish talk,” she said, and as the good Lord is my witness, she blushed. I would’ve thought her blushing mechanism dried up decades ago.

“Doesn’t she look amazing?” Leslie said.

“She is the cat’s mother,” Momma and I said in harmony and laughed a genuine laugh.

We looked up Christian Siriano online and printed quite a few of his costume sketches for reference. And we looked up and printed pictures of every major female impersonator in the business for inspiration as well.

“We’re going to need a resource for exotic feathers,” Momma said. “And did anyone find a wig maker?”

“Charlie’s got a wig person. Look, he sent me some pictures last night. Look.”

I looked at them, too. These weren’t normal wigs. They were beyond Marie Antoinette. Way beyond.

“Wow,” Momma said.

“I know, right?” Leslie said. “Crazy!”

So Momma and Leslie flew to Las Vegas with light hearts and heavy bags. Reportedly, Charlie couldn’t wait for them to arrive, and to demonstrate his enthusiasm, he picked them up in a stretch limo with a bottle of Veuve Clicquot champagne and Lalique flutes. When I spoke to them, even Momma was giggly with excitement.

“We’re going to our first show tonight! I can’t wait! Oh, Holly! You have to see this place to believe it! You’re in France, Italy, and Egypt all at the same time! You’re going to have to come for a visit!”

Momma hadn’t produced that many exclamation points in one statement in all her life as far as I knew.

“Maybe one day,” I said. “You two have fun, okay?”

I had zero interest in Las Vegas.

Later that night, the pictures started coming, and they were almost unbelievable. I’d never seen so much glitz and glam. Literally, everything was shiny. Every building, every column, every fountain, and boy, there were a lot of those. There were mirrors everywhere. Women in stiletto heels—most of them, in fact. High-end retail stores were everywhere, ones I’d only ever heard of in magazines. And then there were the female impersonators. Holy whopping hell! You couldn’t make this stuff up. They were the fanciest, most glamorous, most artfully accessorized impersonators you could even imagine. Boas. Headgear that ranged from demure fascinators to tribal headdresses. Gowns of gold and silver lamé with burnouts, and jewels? Diamonds like door knockers. Ropes of gorgeous pearls. Tiaras fit for true royalty. Their makeup? Airbrushed and flawless. The pageantry of it all was intoxicating. Momma’s eyes must’ve been spinning in her head. Leslie had to be giddy and Charlie so happy to have them there and especially to be on good terms with Momma again, because she was going to put him on the map.

And, just to be clear, neither Charlie nor anyone in Las Vegas had ever heard of matte finish.