Chapter 12
Leo
Between our trips to Egypt and Iceland, my mother had us go to New York for a couple of days to tape confessionals—those television shots where they have you in full makeup talking to the camera, or the audience, as it were, about events that have already been taped.
The whole thing was new to Honoré, but she was a natural from what I saw of her taping hers.
After she wrapped her scenes for the day, I was going to ask her what she wanted to do for dinner, and I overheard her talking to one of the makeup artists.
“Those earrings are so cute,” Honoré said. “Where did you get them?”
“Target,” the makeup artist, whose name was Gwen, replied.
Gwen was covered from head to toe in tattoos and had a tongue piercing. I thought it was cute that Honoré was asking about her earri
