I untangled myself from the cord and hung the phone back up.
“What are you going to do now?” Aunt Velma asked, finished with her soda and now sifting through the mail. “Hey, I might have won a million dollars!” She held up the envelope with a sarcastic twist to her mouth, then tossed the lot into the recycling bin in the corner of the kitchen.
I sighed. “I missed the candle festival, so I’ve got to figure out what I’m going to do for the next assignment.”
Aunt Velma perked up. “Hey. You don’t have to go all the way to Thailand for candles. We can just go to the candle store at the mall. I love that pumpkin spice one, but that’s seasonal and they don’t always carry it.”
Yeah, no. “This isn’t exactly the same thing.”
“Well, it was worth a try,” she said, forlorn. “Don’t you have another assignment lined up?”
I took another sip of soda. “Not until the end of August.”
“Hmm.”
That little sound was fairly innocuous coming from most people, but when Aunt Velma hmm’d, I got worried. I had good reason. The list of things that happened to me after a hmm included getting our legs waxed because of a two-for-one coupon that came in those coupon packs in the mail, getting matching cornrows in our hair for the fifth grade International Day festival at school and building an outdoor chicken coop so we could have our own eggs. The worst was when she’d set me up on a blind double date with Hank Gilwater…and his father. When Hank and I had to watch his dad and Aunt Velma make out at the movies, then get kicked out for it, I decided boarding school would be a good place for me.
Aunt Velma and I always got along, but she was a free spirit and raised me to be independent, just like she was. She’d been married back in the sixties long enough to be saddled with the last name of Dinkweiler, and that had been that for legal unions. Since then, she’d had more non-legal unions than I could remember, including Mr. Gilwater. So when I said I wanted to go away to boarding school, Aunt Velma understood I needed to spread my wings—her words, not mine.
Since I was stuck in Bozeman for the next few weeks—LA was most definitely out—and Aunt Velma said hmm, I was petrified. The problem was, I was too tired and too frazzled, literally, to run for the hills. Besides, my car was still sitting on the side of the Frontage Road and the only way I was getting it back was by my aunt’s boyfriend who would also be bringing whipped cream and it wasn’t for dessert. So hours later, when Carl showed up with my car and a bag from Safeway, I grabbed the keys from him and left.
Something about the McHottie incident was bothering me. Okay, a lot about it bothered me, but one thing was still unclear. I found a spot right in front of Goldilocks and went in, searching for an answer. For a Tuesday night, it was quiet, only a few patrons browsing. Veronica and Goldie were both behind the counter.
“I need every movie with Silky Tangles in it.”
Veronica angled down her chin and just stared, eyes wide.
“Silky Tangles?” Goldie asked, then tapped her chin. “Well, there’s Tailed By The Police and Nailed in Jail.” She went over to the wall of DVD cases, pulled those two down, then a few more. “There’s also Stuffed and Cuffed and Strip Searched.”
The theme of these films did not surprise me in the least. Of course McHottie watched them all.
When she returned to the counter, she handed me a stack. Unfortunately, the covers only showed barely discreet naked bodies in interesting poses that involved all kinds of law enforcement paraphernalia. Handcuffs, I could imagine, but a billy club was a mystery to me and really, I didn’t want to know.
If McHottie thought I was one of these women, I’d have to reconsider my opinions of the man. He thought I looked like them? I had nice C cups, but they weren’t personal flotation devices like these ladies had.
“Crap.”
“Why on earth do you want these?” Veronica asked. “I never took you for a porn flick kind of gal.” Goldie was standing there quietly, waiting to hear this answer. She knew it was going to be good. I’d never come into the store seeking anything before—I knew better—so jumping right into heavy duty porn was probably a surprise, even for her.
“That…detective…that pulled me over thought I was Silky Tangles.”
They both looked me up and down. I’d showered and changed into a pair of cut-off jean shorts and a white tank top.
Goldie tilted her head from side to side. “She’s got good breasts.”
“Long legs,” Veronica added.
“The hair’s the right color.”
“Turn around,” Veronica asked.
“What?” I asked, frowning. “No way. You do not need to see my butt to know I’m not her.”
Goldie grabbed a case from the pile. “Here, let’s check it out.”
On the side of the counter she had a small TV with a DVD player built in. It was turned off, but once she loaded it up and got past the menu, the beginning of Stuffed and Cuffed came up. The volume was set pretty loud and some interesting intro music that sounded very similar to the CHiPs TV show theme blared. Soon enough, a police officer knocked on a scantily clad woman’s door and was putting her under arrest. The patrons who’d been browsing came over to join us as well as a couple who’d just come through the door. We were all crowded around a little TV, watching.
Turns out there wasn’t just one underdressed woman, but two. The second came out of the bathroom in a towel, her skin slick and wet from a shower. Her hair was styled like a beauty pageant queen and she had on perfect makeup, so the shower was somewhat of a stretch. But the three men in our little group didn’t seem to care.
“Hey, that’s you!” one of the men said, pointing at me.
All heads swiveled to me, looked me over, then back at the TV. Yup, there was no doubt that the shower woman, now naked, was Silky Tangles. “Holy shit,” I whispered.
Veronica’s mouth was hanging open. “Holy shit is right, Daph. She does look just like you.”
"Why is it I've never been mistaken for her before?"
A different guy piped up. "She's new. Won Best Performer of the Year at the Porn Awards last month and now she's famous."
Great.
“Can you tell me where you got your implants?” the woman who’d just come in with her boyfriend asked.
“Um,” I replied. My breasts were all natural and were way smaller than the triple D’s Silky had on-screen. The movie quickly shifted from interrogation to strip search. There was quite a bit of probing and repeated focus on all orifices for secret stashes of drugs or weapons. It was like watching a car crash—no one could look away. I was partially repulsed and partially intrigued. Silky Tangles really did look like me. Of course, I didn’t have the thighs or the moves like she did, nor did I have the sucking power of a Hoover vacuum. She’d clearly been in the business for a while or had been a very early bloomer.
“Can I have your autograph?” another guy asked, his eyes glazed with lust. Everyone started crowding around, bombarding me with questions.
“Doesn’t your mouth get tired?”
“How does the guy keep it up for so long?”
“Are you faking or is the guy really that good?
“You don’t look as big on-screen, so I guess TV does add fifteen pounds. But for you it was all in the boobs. Pretty strange.”
“What kind of lipstick is that? It doesn’t even come off…and you sure tried.”
“Will you go out with me?”
My back was pressed against the glass counter and I had my hands up. Someone placed a permanent marker in my hand and I grabbed it automatically.
“Okay, folks, one at a time. Silky Tangles will give autographs, then you’ve got to give her some room,” Goldie announced. “Here.” She gave me some scrap paper.
Five minutes later the store was empty. Goldie had sold two Silky Tangles videos to the guys, a set of handcuffs for the couple and I was assured a date anytime with a guy named Bob.
“Holy shit,” I said agai
n, stunned.
“Is there something you’re not telling us, sweetheart?”
Goldie looked at me over the tops of her reading glasses that fastened to a rhinestone-encrusted chain that hung about her neck.
“What? You think I’m her?” I pointed to the TV.
“If you had your hair styled and bought a big tub of Crisco,” Goldie said.
“You do spend a lot of time out of town,” Veronica added.
“When I envisioned having a secret life, it was as Wonder Woman, not a porn star,” I countered.
“Well, you have to hand it to Miss Silky. She gives her all. And I mean literally,” Veronica replied, shaking her head.
The bell over the door dinged and Jack Reid walked in. He was Veronica’s lawyer boyfriend. Although he only had eyes for Veronica, I didn’t mind staring at him, nor did any other woman in town under the age of ninety. He was that good looking.
“Hey, Jack,” Goldie called out as she was putting the DVDs back on the shelf.
“Have you ever heard of Silky Tangles?” Veronica asked.
Jack stopped in his tracks halfway to the counter. “Oh crap, this is one of those questions, isn’t it? Hey, Daphne.”
I gave him a little head nod but really wanted to hear what he had to say.
Veronica just raised her eyebrows.
“Fine.” He sighed. “I’m doomed here. If you’re talking about Silky Tangles, the porn star, then I’ve never heard of her.”
“Really?” Veronica grinned and came around the counter, wrapped her arms around her man.
“I’m a lawyer. I plead the fifth.”
“Smart.” She kissed him. “Very smart,”
“What do you want me to say, that she’s really Daphne?”
“How did you know?” Goldie asked in complete surprise, one hand covering the word Sassy on her chest.
“Goldie,” I replied dryly. “Don’t encourage him.”
Jack grinned at me. “I knew since Ty’s bachelor party.”
Ty Strickland was Goldie’s daughter-in-law Jane’s fiancé. Jane had been married to Goldie’s son until he died about five years ago from some kind of aneurysm or something. They were getting divorced at the time so Jane wasn’t overly heartbroken, although it must have been hard for Goldie to lose her only child. Jane helped Goldie run the store and Ty was a Bozeman firefighter. They were getting married in September.
“Oh my god, you guys watched porn and thought it was me? Thailand isn’t far enough away,” I groaned, mortified.
“You’re really good with your mouth. How do you keep the lipstick on?” he asked. I could tell by the way he was trying not to smile that he was kidding.
Veronica smacked him on the arm. “Jack Reid, how could you?”
Jack looked down at Veronica, ran his knuckles over her cheek. “I watched the movie, then came home to you, babe. Remember? That was the night we did that thing with the ties since we didn’t have any handcuffs. I remember because you called out—”
Veronica covered his mouth with her hand. “Don’t you dare,” she hissed.
He nipped at her fingers then kissed her again, this time with a whole lot of tongue. “Goldie, if you’re quiet for the night, I’ve got some plans for Veronica.”
Goldie just shook her head and laughed, waved her hand toward the door. “Go. Just go. Daphne can stay and help.”
I whipped my head around to Goldie. Stay and help?
The couple bolted for the door before I could even argue. Realizing I’d been well and truly caught, I exhaled and joined Goldie behind the counter.
“Here. Sort these. Somehow the strawberry-flavored condoms got mixed in with the mint ones.”
She handed me two boxes with individually wrapped condoms to sort. At least I wouldn’t be bored. The store was one big room styled to match a Las Vegas casino circa 1960. There was lots of gold and lots of crazy carpet.
“So, sweetheart, is there something you want to tell me?” She sat on a stool by the cash register, giving me room to spread out my task on the glass counter. I didn’t look up from my sorting.
“About what exactly? That I missed my assignment in Thailand or that I was Tased by Detective Hot Pants or that my aunt is having sex with Carl and a can of whipped cream or that people think I’m Silky Tangles?”
“Detective Hot Pants?” Goldie got a dreamy expression. “Yeah, that name fits him, and so did those jeans today. I haven’t seen him in a long time, and he sure looks fine. You could have your way with him, especially if you tell him you really are Silky Tangles.”
“Goldie, I don’t want to be with a guy because he thinks I’m a porn star. He’d learn the truth when he got me naked—did you see that woman’s butt? Besides, I can definitely say my repertoire in the bedroom does not include the things in that movie.”
“If you watch them, you can pick up some pointers.”
I just turned my head to look at her.
“Right. Okay then.” She held up her hands. “So you’re not a porn star and I can’t help you with Detective Hot Pants. I’m well aware of Velma and Carl but certainly missed the whipped cream. I’m sure if you go home, you won’t. I’m all for fun in the bedroom, but seeing your aunt in action isn’t good. How about this? I’ve got my old camper parked in front of my house because I’m selling it. You can stay in it tonight. It’s all cleaned up and ready to go.”
Goldie’s camper or a live porno starring Aunt Velma. The decision wasn’t tough. “Great, thanks, Goldie.”
A camper in Montana was like a boat in Florida. So many people had them and it wasn’t strange to see one in a driveway or in front of a house, especially this time of year. Big Sky country was for exploring and playing and a camper was the way to go. It was better than a tent because you didn’t have to worry about bears.
“Just don’t use the toilet. It’s all primed and ready to go for the new owners.”
“Sure, no problem.” I’d rather hold it in than stay at home.
Goldie clicked her manicured nails on the counter. “As for your assignment, hmm.”
Oh man. A hmm from Goldie? This wasn’t good.
CHAPTER FOUR
Nothing else exciting happened before closing. Thankfully. No one else recognized me, for which I was relieved. More worrisome, however, was that Goldie had been surprisingly quiet. She was never quiet. I pulled my Rabbit into the driveway and stared at the dark house I’d lived in since I was five. It was built early in the 1900s on the Northside of Main when the city started to grow after the gold rush tapered off and other industry moved in. It was considered a bungalow with a combination of brick and wood painted white. The windows were big and original, which meant plenty of light but plenty of drafts in the winter. Aunt Velma had bought it after her divorce and when my parents dumped me with her, she converted the attic into a bedroom for me. The roof slanted on both sides so it was cozy and great for a short person. As I grew, I had to watch my head as the ceiling was the walls. Aunt Velma was an avid gardener and people drove or walked by to see the yard, especially this time of year in all its glory.
I tiptoed inside with a large amount of dread about what I might see or hear. I dashed up the narrow stairs off the kitchen, found a change of clothes and my old Scooby Doo sleeping bag, and made it back to the car without hearing anything that would scar me for life.
Goldie’s house was about ten blocks away on the other side of Main. Sure enough, there was Goldie’s old camper. Old was an optimal word. It was very vintage, so vintage I think I saw it on an episode of the Brady Bunch. Perhaps I was confusing it with Buck Rogers. It was a camper and car built in one, meaning it didn’t need to be towed. It was metallic with a red stripe down the side. It reminded me of a great big steel pickle heading for outer space. I ducked my head and went in the side door and flipped on the lights. I wasn’t driving it so I didn’t need a key and not much bad stuff happened in Bozeman. It was almost an unwritten code that you didn’t mess with another person’s camper.
I turned out the light and made my way into the back bedroom. It was cool, only in the fifties even though it was July, so I threw on my sweatshirt and spread out my sleeping bag. I could hear the wind in the trees and nothing else. No sex. No headboard banging. Nothing. My life was a total wreck. Even though Roger and I hadn’t really been together for a while, my relationship status was officially single. The first hot guy I get near and he Tasers me. I signed autographs for a porn star. I was homeless, bedded down in my childhood sleeping bag and spending the night in a used camper. My life needed serious work. Decisions needed to be made because I was just as aimless as I had been at fifteen, but not tonight. I’d had enough insanity for one day, so I called it a night.
***
“Hello!” Goldie trilled from the door. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, trying to remember where I was. Oh yeah, the camper. The bed swayed as Goldie came inside; the stabilizers weren’t down to balance the RV. “Oh good, you’re up. I’ve figured out all of your problems,” she responded almost gleefully.
The bed dipped again. “I think it’s going to be perfect, and so much fun!” Aunt Velma’s voice was loud in the small space.
I looked at my watch, wiped the sleep from my eyes. Hmm. Ten. The sun was bright through metal blinds covering the small window on the back wall. Goldie sat down on the edge of the bed. Aunt Velma ducked her head through the doorway and sat down as well, forcing me to curl my feet up inside my sleeping bag. Staring at them was like a shot of espresso. Goldie’s hair was down in soft waves and she wore a leopard-print shirt with another pair of jeggings, these in black. Aunt Velma wore a Day-Glo orange exercise shirt and striped shorts. She looked like a golfer that got lost in the eighties. With her red hair, it was an impressive combination.
Home Sweet Gnome Page 3