"Yes, but a servant should always be polite." Louise advised.
"So should guests. I'm sure Emily Post would ban critiquing someone else's housekeeper. Melba is a friend as well as a paid employee. She is not considered by anyone in this household, including my grandmother, as a servant." Nicole stood. "Sweetie, would you like to tell me all about your day in private?"
"I've been waiting for you to suggest that." Sheryl wagged her eyebrows. "Excuse us ladies, but absence does make the lust grow stronger."
"We'll see you for dinner." Nicole told them as she took Sheryl's hand and led the critic out of the room.
"Oh god that was great." As soon as the door to Nicole's room was firmly closed, they collapsed against it.
"When did you get here?" The photographer asked.
"I was standing in the hall for most of the conversation. I remembered how ornery those two are and wanted to stage a grand entrance." Sheryl wiped tears from her eyes.
"You couldn't have planned it better." Nicole caught her breath. "If grandmother weren't ill, we would be in so much trouble."
"No, trouble will be this." The critic banged Nicole's headboard against the wall and let out a loud, low moan. "That's trouble." She added when they heard a glass break down stairs. Nicole's room was right above the kitchen.
"We're so evil. You're so evil."
"Thank you. It's a gift." Sheryl bowed. "I didn't see you try to stop me though."
"You think I'd stop you when you're on a roll?" Nicole asked. "Please. I know better."
"Aren't you glad I insisted we take that acting class in high school?"
"Very. I'm surprised I didn't blow it by laughing." She collapsed on her bed. "Why is it I can't stand half the people I'm related to?"
"My little brother used to say that you can pick your friends, you can pick your nose, but you can't pick your family. He was five." She added in explanation. "I don't think anyone likes most of their family. Blood binds families. Hearts bind friends."
"That's true. The family members I like are also friends." She nodded to herself. "It makes sense."
"So did you talk to Danny?"
"Yes. He's supposed to be here tomorrow. We're meeting them at the Warehouse tomorrow night after he tells his mother the good news."
"I can't think of two better grandparents." Sheryl commented. Danny's parents considered Nicole and Sheryl as their own children.
"Me either. You know, the words were barely out of my mouth before he volunteered for the job. He said it would make his mother happy and he'd feel honored. He also offered service in case I ever want another. Aaron did too."
"That was sweet of them. Then again, they are very special people."
"That they are. By the way, speaking of sweet, where did the phrase 'love muffin' come from?" She sat up and looked at her friend.
"It just seemed too sickening not to use." The critic laughed. "I thought you were going to lose it then. You should have seen your face."
"I can imagine. I just wish we had their reaction on video. Seeing Gertrude almost swallow her tongue was priceless." Nicole laughed again.
"That it was. How long do you think we should stay up here?"
"Hours. We should jog in place or something before we go back down there."
"How about a nice hot shower instead?"
"That'll work too. I'll let you go first."
"You're too kind. How's a nap sound?" Sheryl yawned.
"Wonderful."
"Good. Wake me when it's over."
"Ok. Night." Being evil felt wonderful Nicole decided, as she got comfortable. It really felt wonderful.
Chapter Thirty
Laurel was grateful for this two-week break in the tour. Unlike most of the people on tour with them, she had chosen to remain in a city outside their previous stop. She was looking forward to two weeks of sleep, rest, and relaxation. Two weeks without Jenna sweetened the pot. The guitarist was on her way to France with Terry. The only other people staying who she talked to were BJ, Steve and Larry. Larry’s girlfriend was at sea, and he did not want to spend two weeks alone in an empty apartment.
Mandy and Sam convinced BJ to remain. They were both taking a vacation at the same time and neither of them wanted to stay in Hattiesburg. The two were scheduled to arrive sometime that evening. Laurel was glad Sam and BJ had worked out their problems. He was a lot happier as a result, which made him easier to live with.
Their last concert before the break had been the previous evening. The label arranged for those remaining to spend the time at a rent-by-the-week hotel, at their own expense of course. It was not the nicest place she had stayed at, but it was not the worst either. At least it was clean. The beds were comfortable, the bathroom was adequate, but the small kitchen made up for any lack. As soon as Larry noticed the little kitchens, he arranged for cooking lessons. Laurel agreed to the idea enthusiastically. She could not live with Mandy forever and there was no guarantee that Nicole would take her back. She was ready to learn how to stand on her own.
Her first day of freedom led her to the local Wal-Mart. Unlike most of the other bands, blue gecko did not hire assistants. Laurel passed along the information Ms. Baker had given her before they left New York. Everything the label paid for, from the hotels to the food, came from the band’s gross profits. The label did not use its own money for anything once the band was signed. Only Jenna protested, but she was outvoted every time she brought up the subject. She was still sulking over it. Laurel thought she could sulk all she wanted, especially in France. They would not make money if she continued to spend it. As it was, the guitarist was not speaking to her anyway. Their little fight finished any friendship they may have had.
The trip to Wal-Mart was a relief as well as a necessity. It was nice doing something as normal as buying dog food, a new computer game and deodorant. Of course she bought more than her list dictated. Monetary freedom and boredom contributed to a few rather strange purchases. What she would do with a personal data assistant she did not know, but it had been too tempting to leave at the store.
Laurel took two of her stranger purchases into the little bathroom. Already she was bored with the routine of touring. The only relief in the repetition was her running sessions with Larry and the others. Even those were getting old. Temptation was getting harder and harder to resist. Drugs, alcohol and groupies were everywhere. Her conversation with Sharon a few days ago had brought all of that back. She lay awake now, remembering her past life. It was becoming harder to concentrate on the future with echoes of the past tormenting her.
Shaking off her thoughts, Laurel took the box from the bag and read the instructions carefully. She had been unable to buy the item at Wal-Mart, but fortunately the little strip mall boasted several unique stores. The taxi driver had patiently waited for her to search them all. He appreciated the tip she gave him as a result.
The other item she did purchase at Wal-Mart with the rest of her stuff. She was badly in need of a haircut. It was one thing she felt she could do herself. She did not often trust strangers with sharp objects around her head. It was hard enough getting the tip of one ear and the side of the other pierced that afternoon. It did not hurt, but it still made her nervous to have someone point a gun type object at her head.
Fortunately the bathroom light had an electrical outlet. She plugged in the chord for electric clippers and faced her reflection. She could not decide if she wanted a trim or if she wanted to just shave of the lot of it. It was the scar on the edge of her forehead that kept her from shaving her head. It ran from an inch above her ear to her forehead where it curved down toward her left eyebrow. The only visible part was an inch and a half in length. She hated it. It was a reminder she did not want or need. She decided to keep it covered. She did not want to field questions about it.
"Ok, something short but cute. That should work. I hope." She turned to the room’s only other occupant. BJ was in the room next door. "What do you think Muggster?" The dog looked up, snorted
, and went back to sleep. "You’re a lot of help."
"Yo, Lakky, you in there?" A pounding came from the door in the wall that led into the drummer’s room.
"Yeah." She opened the door. "What’s up?"
"What are you doing?" He asked. She still had the clippers in her hand. "Ah, I’ll cut yours if you cut mine."
"Ok. Just don’t shave it, alright?"
"If you promise not to do the same." He pushed his long locks from his forehead. His dark hair was beginning to curl.
"Sure. How do you want it?" She took a chair from the little kitchen table. "Here take a seat." She went back into the bathroom to claim a towel. She unplugged the electric cord and took it to the table. There was an outlet near the table. "Ok, how do you want it?" She asked as she draped the towel around his shoulders.
"I don’t care." She plugged the cord into the wall and then into the clippers. "Surprise me." He told her.
"No problem." She brushed his hair back and thought about how to begin. "You want it short?"
"That’ll work. I just hate pulling it back into a ponytail, and it gets everywhere if I don’t." He complained.
"Yeah, I’m having the same problem. The little things they don’t tell you when you sign up for gigs like this." She parted his hair and adjusted the settings on the clippers. "Alright. Keep your head still."
"Yes, ma’am. I have no desire to go through life with only one ear." He sat up straight and held his head up high.
It was relaxing. It was not the first time Laurel had ever cut someone else’s hair, but it was the first time she was asked not to shave it. The dark brown locks fell to the floor; each bunch was at least seven inches long. BJ usually wore his hair long. She thought he must need a change as well. It was one of the subtler ways touring the country changed them.
"Here you go." She pulled the towel from his shoulders and shook it out. "What do you think?" She asked as he went into the bathroom to look.
"I like it." His hair was now at most two inches long. It was almost what some termed a Caesar cut. "You did this pretty well. Where did you learn to cut hair?"
"I didn’t. I shaved someone’s head once, but that was about the extent of it. This has a setting see." She showed him the clipper’s instructions. "All I had to do was set the length."
"Ok. That makes sense. Anyway, take a seat. It’s my turn." He grinned in a way that made her nervous.
"Wait a minute big man, have you ever done this before?"
"Yep. My grandmother was a hairdresser. Whenever I would visit her over the summer as a child, or later whenever my mother would just drop me off there, she would teach me about it. It was an attempt to keep me out of trouble. I was very popular in rehab since I knew how to dye, wash and cut hair." He pushed her down into the chair. "Now, trust me. How short do you want it?"
"I have no idea. Just keep the scar covered."
"I can do that." She relaxed into the chair, closed her eyes, and willed herself not to kill him if it turned out badly. She felt him pause a few times to adjust the settings on the clippers. She refused to look up each time he paused.
"Alright, there we go." He pulled the towel from her shoulders. "Go take a look. If you don’t like it, we can go shorter."
"Ok." She wandered into the bathroom and looked into the mirror. She was surprised, but liked it. Her hair was shagged. It fell to the base of her skull, the way she normally had it cut, but the sides were a bit shorter. She brushed them behind her ears. She liked the effect. The bangs were not even two inches long and fell easily down her forehead. The scar was covered.
"What do you think?" He called from the other room.
"I like it. I really do." She walked back into the room. "How long has it been since you’ve dyed someone’s hair?"
"Why would you want to dye yours? Most women would kill to be a natural blonde."
"Because I’m bored. Now, do you want to do it or shall I?" She rarely saw being blonde a plus.
"I’ll do it, but you have to promise not to tell anyone I did it." He took the box from her. "Damn girl, are you trying to drive away your groupies?"
"Nope. I’m actually growing kinda fond of them. So where do you want to do this?"
"In the bathroom." He opened the box. "I don’t know who is going to kill me more. Mandy or Harold."
"It’s not their hair, so it’s not their concern."
"True. Alright let’s get this started." He followed her into the bathroom. "What time are we supposed to meet Larry?"
"We have two hours. Is that enough time?"
"Yep. That’ll do it. Ready?"
"Yep. Let’s do it."
***
"You know, it’s always nicer to see them go." Stan commented as the large car pulled out of the driveway.
"Yes it is. Now we need to air out the house." Nicole stretched. Gertrude and Louise finally took the hint and decided to leave. Nicole thought it had more to do with her role-playing with Sheryl than anything else.
"I’ve already started that. I’m so glad you quit that evil habit." Melba commented as she opened the windows in the living room.
"Yeah, me too. Do you need some help?" Nicole asked.
"No, I can get it. I’m not that old." Melba laughed.
"Yeah, neither are we." Sheryl did not ask, but went to assist the housekeeper. Before long, every window in the house was open except those in Adia’s room.
"Now what?" Stan asked. "By the way, did I compliment you two on your performances last night and this morning?"
"No you didn’t. Did you like them?" Sheryl struck a pose. "We’re thinking about taking it on the road. Scare your relatives with the infamous lesbian couple."
"That would pull in a lot of money. I’ll be your manager." He volunteered. "We could rent out Danny and Aaron too."
"Oh god, that would be interesting. Those two playing acting when they’re already head over heels." Nicole laughed.
"Yeah, but we’d make a ton of money." Stan informed her. "Speaking of which, what are y’all planning on doing this evening?"
"Danny said he had something to do this evening, but would meet us at the Warehouse after dinner." Nicole shrugged. "He wouldn’t tell me more than that. They should be there now. Aaron and him are staying in my apartment this evening."
"I guess they wanted to do dinner with his parents." Sheryl shrugged. "I can’t think of anything else they have to do."
"Well, Brian’s rehearsal dinner is tonight." Stan told them.
"I don’t think he’d be there. That side of his family disowned him." Nicole shook her head. "Now his father’s family thinks he walks on water."
"Doesn’t he?" Sheryl asked. "Top of his class in high school and college, the most popular deejay in the county, and an overall great guy. I don’t know why his family did what they did to him."
"Laurel’s disowned her." Nicole shrugged. "Of course, it was about more than her being gay."
"Why did they? I can’t imagine my parents ever disowning me." Stan commented.
"That’s because you have great parents." Sheryl told him. "My parents are great, but there are so many of us it’s easy to let some things slide into the background."
"I guess that’s why I’m glad it’s just me and Jessie. Though Nicole has always been more a sister than a cousin."
"And you’ve been more of a brother." Nicole was touched by his words.
"Yeah, yeah, we are family." Sheryl commented. "Can we go to dinner now? It’s getting too mushy in here."
"You were doing fine with mush earlier." Nicole pointed out.
"That was acting." The critic protested.
"You deserve an award for that." Melba commented as she reentered the room. "You both do."
"Thank you." Sheryl bowed. "I couldn’t have done it without the loving support of my best friend and partner, my family, and the inspiration I received from the muse of evilness."
"Alright, ham, let’s get out of here. We’re going to dinner and then the Warehouse, in c
ase something comes up." Nicole steered Sheryl to the door. "Kay will be here shortly won’t she?"
"Go and have fun. Nothing will happen. The nurse, Kay and I will be here." Melba waved off the photographer’s concern.
"Ok." She took a deep breath. She was suddenly nervous about leaving her grandmother alone. She knew though that Kay and Melba would be of more help than she would.
"Come on, Hotshot, everything will be ok." Sheryl led her to the door. "I’ll drive."
"That’ll work. I don’t want to put more miles on my car before I sell it."
"You did decide to sell it?" Stan asked.
"Yeah, it doesn’t make sense to keep two. I have the convertible. I don’t need the other." Nicole opened the passenger door. "Shotgun."
"Shit. Alright, I’ll be nice." Stan grumbled as he climbed into the back seat.
"Need me to pull the seat up?" She asked as she sat down.
"Nope. I’ll just sit sideways with my feet behind shorty. Your legs are as long as mine anyway."
"Watch that shorty business." Sheryl warned as she started the car. "The Warehouse first?"
"Unless you want to pay to park." Nicole told her.
"The Warehouse then."
Chapter Thirty One
"Good lord, what happened to the two of you?" Larry asked as he opened his door.
"Nothing, why?" Laurel asked.
"Let’s see, BJ’s hair is short and an Elvis blue black instead of brown, and yours is purple. Did you meet a mad barber or something?"
"Nope. We were just bored with the norm." BJ answered. "Well, are you going to invite us in?" They used the rest of the dye on BJ’s hair. It did not turn purple as planned, but black with purple and blue highlights. He liked it.
"You didn’t join a vampish cult or anything did you?" Larry teased as he held the door open for them.
"We regressed a bit." Laurel explained. "It’s been a long time since either of us dyed our hair weird colors. Feels kinda nice to be immature again." She looked in the mirror over his dresser. She still liked the effect. It was odd, but she liked it. She liked it more when she thought about the heart attack Jenna would have.
All That Jazz Page 35