“What the fuck?” Edith barked in amazement as the entire room of at least four hundred fans shot their arms up in the air. “Did one of you fucktards pull a weapon?”
“No.” Luke laughed. “It’s Shoshanna’s new move. Everybody’s doing it.”
“Well in that case . . .” Edith and Mrs. C raised their hands along with the crowd.
“Oh my God,” I said with a giggle, and hit Luke. “Are you going to leave them like that?”
“You bet I am.” He grinned and touched my cheek.
We got swallowed up in the crowd before I could react to his simple gentle touch. My cheek tingled and my heart beat wildly. Did Donna and Bruce have these same problems? Would they find a way to get a happy ending? Had I truly lost it? Donna and Bruce were not even real people.
The signing went off without a hitch. Mrs. C and Edith flanked Shoshanna with their arms in the air for over an hour. Jim stood with Luke to one side and I stood on the other. I could feel Luke’s eyes on me, but I kept mine trained to the crowd. I regretted not reading Shoshanna’s chapter about Bruce and Donna. I wanted to see what happened. I wanted someone else to make a decision I was too cowardly to make. I took a deep breath and pushed the mess that was my life to the back of my mind.
Shoshanna was in heaven. Her fans cried and squealed with delight at getting to meet her in person. She signed books and posed for pictures. Mrs. C and Edith posed for quite a few pictures too. I had no clue who the crowd thought they were, but it didn’t matter. The three old gals were having the time of their lives.
Luke stepped up behind Shoshanna and whispered in her ear. She turned and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before she let loose with one of her ear-shattering whistles.
“All right, Street Walkers, I have to move on to my next appointment,” she shouted, and the crowd groaned in disappointment. “But, I’ll be at the pageant tonight because my son, Duke LeHump, is the star!”
As if on autopilot, the masses began chanting, “Duke LeHump, Duke LeHump, Duke LeHump.”
“Eight o’clock tonight,” Shoshanna bellowed. “I expect to see all of you there!”
As we made our way out of the room to grab lunch before the last rehearsal for the pageant, Luke copped a quick feel of my ass. “I want to peel those clothes off of you and have you ride me like a cowboy again,” he whispered.
I was flustered. I thought we’d agreed to ignore last night. Wait, I had agreed to ignore it inside my own warped brain. He had agreed to nothing. This day was going to be even more difficult than I’d originally thought.
Chapter 30
The restaurant in the hotel was packed, but Shoshanna had had the forethought to reserve the back room for our party. Teddy, Rocky, Cesar, and Cheech were already sitting at the table when we arrived.
“I thought it would be nice to have a friendly meal before the boys got their game faces on for tonight,” Shoshanna explained. Well, at least lunch wouldn’t be boring. I expected Mrs. C and Edith to eat Teddy alive.
“Oh my God,” Teddy gushed. “Love the face patch. Is that the new thing?”
“Kind of.” Shoshanna laughed and introduced everyone.
I found myself wedged in next to Luke and his grabby hands and directly across from the weird brothers. Awesome. The table was round and the room was open. Mrs. C, Edith, Luke, and I had all tried to sit with our backs to the door. None of us won that battle because Cheech and Cesar had already planted their bizarre asses in that prime location.
“Are we ready for tonight?” Shoshanna asked the boys.
“Of the course we are ready for to showdown and win,” Cheech said in mangled English as if it were a done deal.
“Now, Cheech.” Shoshanna laughed. “That’s not a very sportsman-like attitude.”
“Oh, puleese,” Teddy said, throwing his shiny locks over his shoulder and hitting Jim in the face. “Cheech is an overconfident brute.”
“I am confident because I have the big package,” he shot back, and stood to prove his point. His brother yanked him back to his seat and everyone kept chatting as if a grown man hadn’t just tried to expose himself at the table.
Rocky, whom I’d never heard utter a word, raised his hand to speak. Edith acknowledged his politeness, shushing the table.
“The muscular and sexy black guy wants to say something.”
“Holy fucking shit,” Mrs. C shouted, and walloped her sister. “You don’t say black. You say African American.”
Edith elbowed her sister in the gut. “How am I supposed to know that? I just found out earlier today that apparently the word dyke is insulting,” she grunted. “Mr. Sexy Guy,” she said to Rocky, “I’m sorry. I would never fuck up on purpose and I didn’t mean to insult you.”
“You didn’t.” Rocky chuckled. “But I appreciate your caring enough to say something.” His voice was beautiful—low and melodic.
“See?” Edith flicked Mrs. C in the head. “He’s not mad and by the way,” she told Rocky, “I have no issues with the word dyke or lesbo, so you can use them.”
“Good to know,” he said, and bit his lip to hide his grin. “I’d like to back up my lover Teddy on his assessment that Cheech is a brute. I also find the irony in his actions quite amusing.”
Holy cow, Rocky was beautiful and smart, although he was dating Teddy . . .
Cheech looked completely confused, unsure if Rocky was making fun of him. Cesar, on the other hand, was smiling like the cat who ate the canary. What in the hell had they been up to?
“Should I?” Rocky asked Cesar. “Or would you like to inform the group what you two have accomplished?”
“I’d like to take the honor,” Cesar said.
“Actually,” Teddy cut in, “as much as I think you two don’t stand a chance against me tonight, I think what you did was disgustingly brilliant.”
Cheech was still utterly confused, as was the rest of the table.
“Get to the fucking point. I’m so hungry, I could eat a groundhog,” Mrs. C grumbled.
“You have,” her sister said.
Jim and the other boys laughed at the joke, but I gagged on my tongue. I knew she wasn’t joking. God only knew the things they’d eaten during their time in Vietnam. I glanced across the table at the gals. As much as they made me want to pull my hair out, they also had my utmost respect. I was sure I couldn’t even imagine the horrors they’d been through, yet here they were, dressed in rubber and leather, having the time of their lives. They knitted and had friends and shot refrigerators and toasters. They had made their way in a crazy world and now they had grandchildren to look forward to . . .
“What are you looking at, Mag?” Mrs. C demanded.
“I know that look.” Edith pointed to me. “Seen it a million times back in Nam. Don’t you go feeling all sorry for us, Mag. We’re happy and good and we made it out. You’re the one who didn’t. It kills me a little every day to think about that.”
“Don’t go getting all weepy on me, you old dyke.” Mrs. C put her hand on her sister’s arm. “Mag’s back and even if she never believes it, I do.”
There was an awkward silence at the table.
“My God.” Teddy blanched. “I thought your name was Mandy. I feel just awful that I’ve been calling you by the wrong name. I mean, Lord have mercy, you have such a tremendous bosom.”
“Okay,” Luke snapped, putting an end before it had begun to any discussion about my boobs. “What in the hell is the story we can’t seem to get to?”
“Oh yeah, we had an orgy with the religious freaks,” Cesar announced proudly.
“What?” Shoshanna shouted.
“Yeah, we screwed like ten of them. They were wild and gave head like a . . .”
“Okay,” I said loud enough to stop the blow job comparison.
“Anyway—” Cesar grinned. “I haven’t been able to get laid by anyone attending the convention. It’s all those freaks outside who were wanting it bad.”
“That be correct,” Cheech added. “My
package was in the demand of the great. I filmed it all on my phone and put it on the YouTube.”
“You didn’t,” Jim gasped, and started laughing.
“Oh yes, I did,” Cheech boasted. “I give the name of the organization and I tell to the world they are horny to love my package.”
There couldn’t have been a finer comeuppance for the crowd of haters outside. To be busted on the Internet for doing all the things that they were accusing the people inside of was mind blowing. My grin split my face and Luke’s laughter set off my own.
“Not only that,” Cesar informed us. “It went viral and made the national news in your country.”
Cesar and Cheech were not my favorite guys. They were disgusting man-whores. However, at this moment I liked them a whole lot. Hypocritical people were one of my biggest pet peeves and the protesters out front embodied everything I disliked about organized religion. Justice had been served by way of Cesar’s and Cheech’s libidos. Could it get any better?
“What was really interesting was when the women did it with each other. If they’d been attractive it would have been hot, but you can’t have it all,” Cesar commented casually.
“Yes,” Cheech added. “I just kept of my eyes to closed and let my package lead the way.”
“Okay,” Rocky said. “That is enough. I’d like to keep my appetite for lunch.”
“So what in the hell is this contest tonight anyway?” Edith asked, flagging the waitress over.
“It’s a cover model pageant,” Teddy said. “Shoshanna choreographed the big number for the show.”
Edith and Mrs. C were impressed. Apparently, there was nothing Shoshanna couldn’t do.
“While I do love the concept, dear,” Teddy told Shoshanna, “I feel a bit creatively stifled by the parameters. My fans will expect me to twerk.”
“What’s a twerk?” Mrs. C asked.
“Oh dear woman,” Teddy gasped, appalled. “You don’t know what twerking is?”
“No.”
“Then I have a treat for you.”
Pushing his chair back and twisting his hair up into a loose knot, Teddy got down to business. His air humping and hip grinding was truly amazing in a nightmare-inducing way. Rocky, as eloquent as he was, clearly had a weakness when it came to Teddy and twerking. Not only were they humping air, they were humping each other. Of course, not to be outdone by the competition, Cesar and Cheech got in on the action. Cheech humped the mortified waitress, who got so pissed off she kneed him in the nuts. Cesar, laughing hysterically at his brother’s misfortune, defected to the enemy and made the Teddy-Rocky duet a trio.
“Well, they look like goddamned idiots with ants in their pants,” Edith commented.
“I don’t think the waitress is coming back,” Mrs. C said sadly. “I wanted a grilled cheese.”
“Tell me what you guys want,” I yelled over the grunting of the twerk-fest. “I’ll take our order out to our waitress.” I quickly wrote down the orders for everyone and put down four extra burgers and fries for the twerkers. If they didn’t like it, tough shit. They’d pretty much ruined the appetite of everyone else at the table. They’d get what they’d get . . . and like it.
The rest of lunch was uneventful compared to the beginning. I did have to remove Luke’s hand from my body approximately twelve times in the twenty minutes we ate. His strategy was to latch on when I was holding my sandwich with both hands. It was a good plan until I accidentally spilled my ice water on his crotch.
“Thanks,” he whispered, and winked. “I was so hard from staring at your tits, I would have had a hell of a time standing up.”
“You did not just say that,” I said, trying desperately not to laugh. Why his juvenile filth-mouth was such a turn-on, I had no clue. If anyone else said something like that to me, I would deck them . . . him, I just wanted to jump.
“Hey, lovebirds—” Teddy smirked. “We have to get to rehearsal. We’re already late and I don’t think Medusa has enough hair left to pull out.”
“Let’s go,” Shoshanna said. “Bill’s on my tab. We have a show to rehearse!”
Medusa was a wreck and the rehearsal was a disaster. Mrs. C and Edith sat quietly and watched. They seemed to be zeroing in on someone on the stage; at first I thought it was me, and then I realized it was Cheech and Cesar . . . or possibly Teddy. Whatever. They were having fun, and if I was honest with myself, I was too. Luke insisted on practicing the kiss repeatedly. I was dizzy and horny by the time rehearsal was done.
Medusa and Teddy got into it big time over Teddy’s insistence that his fans would want to see him twerk. Medusa unfortunately compared his twerking to an epileptic fit and Teddy threw a shit fit of epic proportions. Rocky broke up the brawl just as it started and Shoshanna decided we should all call it a day. We were to take the rest of the afternoon to relax and primp and be backstage by 7:30, as the show was starting at 8:00 sharp.
I waved good-bye to my crew and hauled ass up to my room before I could get convinced to spend the afternoon having sex with Luke. I’d made my decision and being around him made me think I’d made a mistake. So I did what I always did when I didn’t like what was going on . . . I compartmentalized and ran.
Chapter 31
Shoshanna and the dykes insisted I wear more makeup for the show than I usually did in real life. Edith offered to do it for me. After almost hyperventilating, I politely declined, reminding her that disguise was my specialty and I could whip on false eyelashes tied up and hanging upside down. She gave in, but loaned me her glittery yellow eye shadow, promising it would make my blue eyes pop.
They had chosen my outfit with care . . . a black leather halter and a scrap of black leather skirt with my thigh-high leather boots. I didn’t remember purchasing that particular outfit. I was certain the old gals had bought it for me. As touching as that was, I was going to look like the hooker from hell—all ass and boobies. Whatever. I didn’t really care. I just wanted everything to be over.
“Your mom must be so proud of you,” Shoshanna said as she handed me a pointy studded dog collar.
Her statement startled me almost as much as the dog collar she expected me to wear. “Why would you say that?”
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m prouder than hell of Sue Junior. I still can’t fucking believe I gave birth to a rocket scientist. Hell, nobody can, for that matter.” She laughed. “But you . . . you have passion and guts and balls. You save lives and make this world a goddamned better place.”
“She speaks three languages and can shoot almost as well as me,” Mrs. C chimed in. Her sister slapped her in the head.
“She shoots better than you and me,” Edith grunted. “If I had a daughter, which is an impossibility since I don’t like dick, I’d want her to be you.”
I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but I couldn’t. It was too big.
“So back to my original point,” Shoshanna continued. “You are what little girls should aspire to, not all that movie star model crap. Smart, independent . . . original.”
“She gets all that from Mag the Hag,” Edith said, and Mrs. C grunted her agreement.
Who knew? Maybe I was Mag the Hag. I supposed there were worse things to have been. “What was she like?” I asked.
“She was like you. Impulsive, funny, avoided real life, and found her way by taking on other people’s causes,” Mrs. C said with nary a curse word thrown in.
“I don’t avoid real life.”
No one said anything.
“I don’t,” I insisted.
“Of course you don’t,” Shoshanna said, giving Mrs. C a stern look.
I wanted to say something to prove them wrong, but anything I said would simply bury me deeper. I was feeling the need to shoot stuff, and I knew that wasn’t possible at the moment. So I tried to push the silly conversation to the back of my mind.
Fuck.
What if they were right?
“Would you guys excuse me for a minute?” Without waiting for an answer, I turne
d and ran to my room. I grabbed my phone and dialed. I considered hanging up, but I wasn’t going to avoid anymore. It was answered after two rings. I had to clear my throat three times before words would come out. “Hi, Mom. It’s me, Candy.”
“Hi, baby. How are you?” I could hear the concern in her voice.
“I’m good. How are you and . . . um, Dad?”
“You know what?” she said with an uneven hitch in her voice. “We’re actually doing well. We started therapy and we’re working through a lot of things we should have dealt with a long time ago.”
“Wow,” I exclaimed, unsure what else to say. My free hand was clenched in a fist and my body trembled.
“We owe you an apology,” she said softly. “We were planning on driving up next weekend to talk with both you and your brother. We . . . I did so many things wrong.” I heard the sadness in her voice and it tore me apart in unexplainable ways.
“You did the best you could. We all did.”
“I know, sweetie. I know.”
“So, um . . . Mom, I think I might have met someone.”
“Really?” She couldn’t hide the delight in her voice.
“Yeah, he’s kind of messed up like me, but he’s good and he loves me.”
“Do you love him?” she asked.
I paused. Telling Luke I loved him in the midst of sex was one thing. Admitting it to my mom was another. “I do.”
“That makes me so happy, honey. Mitch, and now you. Maybe we didn’t screw you up too badly.”
I was quiet. She didn’t screw me up. She wasn’t always the most present mom, but she was suffering too. I was an adult—I had a choice. I had no one to blame but myself and I was done with that.
“Candace, I want you to know something. I don’t love what you do, but I’m beginning to understand why both you and Mitch took the paths you did.”
“Mom, you don’t have to do this.”
Cop a Feel Page 25