By the fourth photograph of her first gallery opening, Elise had developed a system. Painting on the left. Photographer on the right. Chin turned just enough. If somebody moved, she moved. Three years of work were finally hanging on the walls, and she was spending an alarming amount of the evening arranging which side of her face appeared beside them.

The cold sore had arrived before the opening. Naturally. It had missed the weeks of hanging paintings, writing labels and worrying about whether anybody would come. It had chosen the evening with cameras.

Elise wanted these photographs. She wanted one beside the large landscape that had taken her nearly a year to finish. One with the gallery owner who had given her a chance. Definitely one with Nora, her best friend, who had listened to enough conversations about paint to qualify for an honorary degree. She just wanted the cold sore to stay out of all of them.

“Other side,” she said when Nora came to stand beside her. Nora switched places. Elise glanced toward the camera, adjusted her chin and smiled. Click. At the next painting, she switched them again. By the third move, Nora looked down at the floor. “Have you marked my positions somewhere, or am I supposed to learn the dance?”

Elise laughed, then turned her face back into its carefully chosen angle. “This is my good side tonight.” Nora understood. She did not ask Elise to forget about it or pretend it wasn't bothering her. She moved to the other side and held her smile while the photographer found the frame.

That afternoon, with the opening getting closer and her patience getting shorter, Elise had found Zombie Lips while looking for lip care. An all-natural balm for everyday conditioning and cold-sore care when needed. She had picked up an applicator of her own, read the directions, and begun using it that day. She was glad to have it now. She would have been considerably happier to have discovered it before opening day.

“Thank goodness I found Zombie,” she told Nora when the photographer lowered his camera. “I just wish I’d found it before tonight.” Nora glanced at the paintings, then back at her. “Your sense of timing is usually better.” “My sense of timing spent the entire week arguing with picture hooks.”

Across the room, the gallery owner called them over for another photograph. Elise arrived already calculating where to stand. The owner moved toward her right. Elise shifted. Nora saw the movement and quietly took the other spot. Nobody needed a speech. Her friend had learned the dance.

The picture taken, Elise asked to see it. There she was beside her work, looking like herself, with Nora grinning next to her and the gallery owner proudly pointing toward the painting. She liked it. Enough to ask the photographer to send her that one. Then she spotted the empty space where another friend could stand.

“Wait. We need one with everyone who helped hang these.” Nora looked around. “That’s going to be a lot of people.” “Good. They can finally do some of the arranging.” Elise stayed on her chosen side while Nora rounded up the others. A few minutes later, there was a laughing crowd beside the big landscape, somebody debating whether holding the ladder counted, and Elise insisting that it absolutely did.

She still chose her angle. She still wished she’d found her lip care sooner. But she was getting the photographs she wanted from the night she had worked so hard to reach. When the photographer asked whether they were ready, Nora looked at Elise first. Elise checked the frame, nodded, and called toward the doorway. “One more. You’re in this one too.”

What always seems to arrive at the least convenient moment? Get to know Zombie Lips, an all-natural balm for everyday conditioning and cold-sore care when needed. Give your lip care a place in the day before the cameras come out.

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