by Cora Kenborn
The rest of the way to the hotel, all three of us sat in silence while Savannah stared at her phone, willing it to ring. Of course, it never did, and the longer she stared, the deeper the lines around her mouth became. Babs stared out of the window at the sights of Vegas, her eyes lighting up like a kid at Christmas. I did what came natural. I worried. About Savannah because she lied to Pope. About the Social Security check I knew burned a hole in my grandmother’s pocket. About the man I left back in New Orleans.
I heard it in his voice before we left. He wasn’t convinced we were being completely honest with him.
Smart man.
Half an hour later, the three of us stood in the doorway of a tiny hotel room, staring at the king-sized bed like it was a throne perched in the middle of hell.
Mainly because it kind of was.
“There must be some mistake,” Savannah blurted out, eyeing the dingy blue and white comforter like it should be covered in plastic wrap. “I asked for two queens.”
The bellhop shrugged as he rolled the luggage cart toward the door. “Shriner’s Convention is in town. We’re full. This is the last room we have. Take it or leave it.”
“But this is Vegas! There have got to be other hotels,” she begged slipping a couple bills in his hand.
“Sure, there are.” Raising an eyebrow at the two-dollar tip in his hand, he chuckled and shoved it in his pocket. “But it’ll be triple the cost, and considering your budget, I wouldn’t recommend it.”
Babs walked over to the window and pushed back the heavy curtain, revealing a scenic view of a very close and extremely tall building. “Bah, Circus Circus casino suck ox ball. I want to stay at Bellagio.”
I gave the bellhop an apologetic look, slipping him another ten-dollar bill as Savannah poked her tongue so hard into the inside of her cheek I thought it would pop out the other side.
“You charged up fifty-dollars-worth of alcohol on my credit card on the plane, Babs,” she muttered. “We’re lucky we’re not staying on a park bench.”
“You ladies have fun now.” Without another word, the bellhop closed the door and left us alone, staring at the single bed like a jigsaw puzzle.
“Addie, how…” Leaving her last word hanging in the air, Savannah glanced down, her hands spread wide as if trying to solve an impossible mathematical equation.
“Bah. In Mother Russia, we sleep ten person to bed with wheat as blanket. You two are pussy.” Flopping onto the bed in a diagonal position, she grinned and pointed toward the headboard with one hand and footboard with the other. “See? We sleep like letter Z. I sleep here, and you two sleep on ends. Piece of pie.”
“Babs,” I said, motioning to my pregnant belly. “I’m as big as both of you put together.”
“Yes,” Savannah piped in, not to be outdone. “And you have atomic farts while Addie snores like a lumberjack.”
I gasped. “I do not!”
“Shut up, all you need to do is grow a dick and steal an ax, and you’d be Paul Bunyan.”
“You two argue, and I drink.” Tucking her arms across her chest, Babs rolled across the bed, landing perfectly in front of the mini-bar. Flinging it open, she clapped her hands like a seal at the buffet of tiny vodka bottles, candy bars, and miniature soda cans.
This can’t end well.
Maneuvering around our lush of a grandmother, Savannah grabbed her canvas bag and swung it over her shoulder. “You watch her. I’m going downstairs and fix this clusterfuck.”
Babs waved a flabby arm behind her head as she unscrewed a mini bottle of vodka with her teeth and downed it in one gulp. I watched, utterly fascinated as she reached for three more and a bottle of Perrier.
“Babs!” I yelled, unable to take my eyes off the sight of her gumming a Hershey bar. “You just blew through sixty dollars worth of shit in ten seconds!”
“Silence is not free, miloshka. You play, you pay.”
“Holy shit, I’m gonna kill Savannah for this.” Searching the room for something I could use as a makeshift padlock, my stomach tied in knots the minute my phone rang. I knew before glancing at the caller ID who it was, and I couldn’t decide if I was petrified or ecstatic to answer.
Maybe a little bit of both.
Regardless of my trepidation, and maybe against my better judgment, I hit the accept button and forced as much cheerfulness in my voice as the situation would allow. “Hey, you! I was just about to call you.”
“It’s been eight hours, Addie. You haven’t called me in eight hours.” His voice sounded rough—like worn sandpaper. I could just imagine him pacing the floor, calling over and over, waiting for my phone to pick up a signal. For once it didn’t make me feel smothered as much as protected.
“We’ve been traveling, Zep.” It wasn’t like I didn’t appreciate the gesture. It was cute. Although admittedly, I’d lost my shit a few times, I couldn’t have asked for a more calming force in my life. He’d been nothing but supportive this whole pregnancy, but it seemed like the closer I got to delivery, the more paranoid he became. “I didn’t mean to worry you. It took a while to get to the hotel and get everything unloaded.”
And honestly, I was scared shitless of saying something to tip him off to our real reason for being in Vegas. I’d let Savannah do all the talking before we left because we both knew I was a terrible liar. The less I talked to Zep the better.
Starting now.
“Addie, I’m worried about you and Charlie. There can be complications from traveling this late in pregnancy.” He paused, a curse rumbling in his throat as a door slammed shut. “I should’ve never agreed to this. It’s a bad idea.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “I told you not to read ahead in the book.”
“Oh, you think this shit’s funny? Well, what if you have a placental abruption while twenty-six hours away from me? Or for God’s sake what if your fucking cervix becomes incompetent? Then what am I supposed to do?”
“I assure you, my cervix is very competent.” I pressed my lips together, trying my best to hold in a laugh. Unfortunately, no matter how hard I squeezed, a giggle still slipped out.
“I’m glad my chest pains amuse you. You’re getting a kick out of this, aren’t you?”
“You have no idea.”
A comfortable silence stretched between us, and I could hear the tension melt out of him as a low rumble of a laugh carried through the line. He’d just said my name when a ball of white hair popped up from the floor, tossing empty mini-bottles in the air like confetti.
“Vodka all gone. When ghost husband come with more? Cocksipper is late. I text him.”
Fuck a duck.
“Is that Babs?” Zep asked, his voice taking on a brittle edge. “Who’s she talking about?”
“Nobody.”
“Did she say, husband?” Drawing out the word husband like it was a four-letter word, he paused a moment, and I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing for the impending storm. I didn’t have to wait long before he exploded, his voice booming through the phone so loud, I had to pull it away or risk hearing loss. “Fucking hell, is she talking about Roland? Addie, is Roland there? Tell me Roland fucking Bordeaux isn’t there!”
This was what people meant when they threw around the phrase, “caught between a rock and a hard place”. Screwed by the desperate actions of my sister and big mouth of my drunk grandmother, I was stuck. Pinned to the wall with no way to answer without either worrying the father of my child or outing my sibling.
Covering the mouthpiece of the phone, I glared at Babs and took off, moving faster than any pregnant woman should. Finally reaching the bathroom, I slammed the door for some much-needed privacy.
Bottling all of my anxiety, I pushed it down enough to sound calm. “Of course, Roland’s not here, Zep. Do you think I’d do that to you?”
“Well, no. It’s just that I—”
“Babs is drunk,” I interrupted, refusing to give him an opportunity to probe me for more answers. “She thinks Pappy is coming. Sometimes she gets
confused when she has too much vodka.”
God forgive me for this, but a little white lie can’t hurt anything, right?
“You’re not telling me something, Addie,” he hedged, an awkward silence passing between us.
I crossed my fingers behind my back and lied. “Everything’s fine. I’m fine. Charlie’s fine. Babs will sleep it off, and she’ll be fine too.”
“Call me later,” he sighed, the fight draining out of him. “I don’t care what time it is. Promise me.” It was the catch in his voice that stabbed me in my heart. Zep rarely showed emotion, but since finding out that Charlie was on the way, he’d taken to mood swings almost as big as me.
I nodded to an empty room. “I promise.”
“I love you, Addie.”
It didn’t matter how many times I’d heard the words, they knocked me off balance, forcing me to grip the edge of the sink. I wanted more than anything to say them back because I knew he’d waited patiently to hear them, never pushing me when I just nodded or smiled in return.
God, I wanted to. But I couldn’t.
“Yeah, me too.”
Long after we disconnected the call, I stood in the bathroom, staring at my reflection in the worn, gold-plated mirror. I looked a mess. I hated maternity clothes, and the clingy, battleship gray t-shirt dress with the light pink ribbon tucked under my enormous boobs made me look more like a bloated elephant than a cute pregnant woman. Makeup was pointless, and heels? Forget about it. Who could wear heels when it was physically impossible to see my feet?
How could Zep love me? I looked like I’d been hooked up to an air hose.
As the tears rolled down my face for the fourth time today, I cursed and jerked a wad of toilet paper off the roll.
Get a hold of yourself, Addie. This isn’t about you.
After splashing cold water on my face, I sniffled and practiced a fake smile in the mirror as I tucked my phone in the hidden pocket of my dress. Savannah had to have come back by now. We’d just change rooms, find Patrick, and get this shit underway.
Showtime.
In throwing open the bathroom door, it took a moment for my brain to catch up with what my eyes were seeing. When they finally made the connection, I braced my hands on each side of the door molding and let out a scream that I know had to have echoed down the hallway.
Empty.
“Mother of fuck! Babs!”
My intentions were good, I told myself.
I was trying to protect Savannah, I told myself.
However, I knew better than to leave my grandmother unattended. After five minutes alone, the woman could be halfway down the strip by now. Swiping the key to the room, I battled slow elevators, unsupervised dripping wet children, and one particularly handsy middle-aged bald man who wanted to rub my belly for good luck at the craps table.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I’m going to kill Babs when I find her.
Once the elevator doors opened, I all but tumbled out of them, scanning the lobby for my sister. The more I searched, the woozier I got, the Brady Bunch style psychedelic carpet and fun house lights swirling into a never-ending blur of cheesy excess. Wrapping one arm around my swollen belly and one over my mouth, I lumbered to the front desk where I caught a glimpse of Savannah’s highlighted blonde hair as she tapped her cowboy boot in impatience. A flustered looking female clerk behind the desk shook her head apologetically and tapped her finger on a computer screen.
“I’m sorry, Miss Dubois, all we have is a two-story executive suite at nine-hundred dollars a night.”
“Have you lost your fucking mind?” Savannah screeched. “Does it come with an oiled-up bellhop to wipe my grandmother’s ass too?”
“Sav!” I grabbed her shoulder, gasping and out of breath.
“Not now, Ads, I’m busy.”
“Savannah!” Refusing to be ignored, I continued tugging on her shoulder, but Savannah was in beast mode, which meant there could be fire or flood, and she wouldn’t be deterred.
“I specifically made a reservation for two queen sized beds online. How in the actual fuck do you expect two grown-ass women and Dumbo over here to sleep in one bed? This is not one size fits all!”
“Sav—wait, who the fuck are you calling Dumbo? You told me I didn’t look like an elephant in this dress!” Grasping a handful of the gray tent, I pulled it forward and shoved it in front of her.
“Go away, Addie!”
“Miss Dubois,” the clerk hedged, bouncing her eyes from me to my sister as if she weren’t sure which one of us deserved the hugging jacket first.
Savannah swatted at my hands and leaned over the counter. “Do you realize I’m marrying a police officer in a few weeks? How the hell can I do that”—she squinted to read the poor woman’s name tag—“Bonnie, if I can’t get a quickie divorce from a douchebag I didn’t even know I was married to? Hmmm? You got an answer for that?”
“Well—”
“Ehhhh,” she squealed, making a buzzer noise. “Too late. The correct answer is, I fucking can’t, Bonnie. So, you go back to your little keyboard there, Bonnie and do some keyboard magic and make some shit happen. How about that?”
That’s it. She’s lost it. Time for interference.
“Savannah!” I screamed right in her face.
“What?”
“Babs is gone!”
She blinked a few times as if the words just didn’t comprehend. “What do you mean she’s gone?”
“She’s missing. Zep called, and she started talking about husbands coming and crazy shit. He got suspicious, so I went to the bathroom to shut her up. When I came out, she was just gone.”
“Fuck!” Palming both hands over her face, Savannah threw her head back and let out an annoyed scream. She stared blankly at the ceiling before sighing and flinging a finger toward Bonnie. “You, keep typing. I’ll be back.” Securing her canvas bag on her shoulder, she grabbed my elbow and dragged me toward the brightly lit casino. “You, come with me. I have a good idea where the hell we’ll find her.”
After dragging me across the lobby and into what felt like another dimension, we both stood just inside the Circus Circus casino, frantically scanning the room for any signs of an elderly woman dressed like a mixed fruit cup.
We might as well have been playing a game of Where’s Waldo. The entire place was filled with elderly women dressed like mixed fruit cups. Picking out Babs would be as easy as finding drunk needles in vodka soaked haystacks.
“This is impossible,” I groaned, swallowing back a gurgle of nausea.
“Just as I thought.” A smug smile tugged at the corners of my sister’s mouth as she nodded to a circle of slot machines on our right. “Come on.”
I recognized her immediately. Babs sat on a stool in front of the closest machine feeding dollar bills into it as if it were starving.
“Come on, fatherfucker. Babs need new pair of prescription shoes.”
Popping a hand on her hip, Savannah leaned over her shoulder. “Having fun?”
Babs let out a scream, jumping from her stool and sending a wad of bills flying from her hands onto the obnoxiously bright carpet below. “Savvy! You scare me. What you doing here?”
“We could ask you the same question.”
“Win big money. You two not need me around.” She rolled her eyes and huffed a snort at Savannah. “You too worried about ass and mouth noise, and you”—letting out a cackle, she picked up a glass and lifted it in my direction—“you too busy jerking bearded clam digger dick. I get bored.”
“So, you just left? Just like that?”
Slamming the rest of her drink, Babs reached into her jumbo-jet sized purse and pulled out two twenty dollar bills, shoving one in each of our hands. “Here. Go play and get rid of bitch face.” Returning to her game, she inserted more money and glanced over her shoulder before pulling the lever. “Vegas, baby.”
59
A Friend In Need
Savannah
Las Vegas, Nevada
“Noth
ing?”
I sighed and tossed my phone onto the chipped faux wood bedside table. “Nope. He hasn’t responded to my Facebook message, two texts, or three voicemails. I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do if I can’t get a hold of him.”
“What about that friend who gave you his number? Can’t she help track him down?”
A throaty laugh fell from my lips as I flung myself backward and stared at my reflection in the mirror bolted to the ceiling above the bed.
Isn’t this hotel supposed to be kid friendly?
If my dear sister only knew the monster of whom she referred to, she’d stab herself in the eye with the cheap, plastic hotel pen just for suggesting we enlist the she-beast’s help.
Although…
I bolted up to a sitting position so fast Addie ducked as if I were about to throw something, which of course wasn’t the most unreasonable reaction in my current state. However, my mood suddenly shifted as a glimmer of hope shined in the distance. It was a long shot, somewhat of a Hail Mary, but it just might be crazy enough to work.
“You’re right,” I announced, moving to sit on my knees. The idea that my plan could potentially work coursed renewed energy through my body, making it impossible to sit still.
Addie eyed me suspiciously, her shoulders still hunched in anticipation for a physical blow. “Normally, I like it when people say those words to me, but for some reason, I feel like it’s a threat coming from you.”
Waving her off, I snatched my phone and shot off a quick text knowing that once the plan was in action, even my sister would be helpless to stop it. “The mutual friend who you just mentioned?”
“Yes? Savannah, what aren’t you telling me? I can see all your teeth. You only smile like that when you’re about to confess something that’s going to piss me off.”
That was the trouble with sisters—they knew all your tells. Deciding it was best just to rip off the Band-Aid, I gave her what she wanted, which was also the last name on earth she wanted to hear. “It was Heather.”