by Jae
“We were visiting friends in San Francisco, so we thought we’d drop by and check out your new place,” Lonnie said.
Rae knew she shouldn’t have been surprised. She couldn’t remember a time when her parents had called first; they had always just shown up on her doorstep.
CC got up and opened her arms wide. “Where’s my hug?”
Rae walked over and embraced her parents, all the while very much aware of Steph watching them.
Steph got up too and came around the coffee table toward Rae.
What…? For a moment, Rae thought she wanted a hug too, but then Steph walked past her to the armchair, leaving the middle cushion between CC and Lonnie for Rae. Oh. Of course. Why would Steph want to hug her, especially as sweaty as she was from her run?
Steph settled down cross-legged on the armchair and gave them a curious look. “You call your parents by their first names?”
Rae shrugged. “That’s what they prefer.”
“We didn’t want to reinforce traditional authority structures with our children, so we encouraged them to call us by our first names.” A mischievous smile spread over CC’s face. “Plus it makes me feel younger.”
“Oh, come on.” Steph grinned at her. “You already look like Rae’s older sister.”
Lonnie chuckled and nudged Rae with his shoulder. “She’s a charmer, this one. Better grab her up while you can.”
God, how long would she have to sit here and be afraid that every word out of her parents’ mouths would embarrass her? “Lonnie, please. I don’t want to grab her. Uh, grab her up, I mean.” Rae’s earlobes grew warm.
Steph leaned forward, her eyes twinkling as she observed Rae. “Oh, look at that. Rae Coleman blushing for the second time since 1997.”
“What happened in 1997?” CC asked.
“Yeah, that’s what I want to know too.” Steph looked back and forth between CC and Lonnie. “Any idea?”
“The Pathfinder landed on Mars, Princess Di died, and I think it was the year Dolly the sheep was cloned,” Rae said firmly.
Lonnie scratched his beard. “1997… Wasn’t that the year Raelynn—?”
Rae jumped up. “How about some coffee?”
Chuckling, Steph got up. “I’ll go make some. If you want to go take a shower…”
“And leave you alone with my parents, so they can tell you every single embarrassing story from my childhood?” Rae shook her head. “No, thanks.”
Steph exchanged amused gazes with Rae’s parents. “Okay, then stay and keep your parents company. I’ll make the coffee.”
“Thanks.” Rae watched as Steph walked over to the open kitchen area, for a moment distracted by the tight fit of her jeans.
CC leaned over and stage-whispered, “She’s a keeper.”
Rae tore her gaze away from Steph, covered her face with her hands, and groaned. “Let’s make a deal,” she said through her fingers. “You stop playing matchmaker, and I won’t call you Mommy.”
CC actually winced a little. “All right.” She leaned her head against Rae’s shoulder—which was easy to do since she was almost a head shorter—and peered up at her with a probing gaze. “So tell me. How are you doing?”
“I’m fine.” Rae glanced toward the kitchen, not wanting to get into this topic in any detail while Steph was listening. But she knew her parents expected more than I’m fine, so she added, “We really lucked out with this apartment. I mean, it’s on the small side, but I don’t need much, and the neighborhood is great. Very walkable and the club is just a few blocks away.”
“Is there a pool nearby?” Lonnie asked.
“I have no idea. I’m not swimming at the moment.”
“What?” The wrinkles on Lonnie’s forehead turned into deep furrows. “Why not?”
You know why not, Rae wanted to say but held back.
Steph saved her from having to answer when she returned with a cutting board that acted as a tray. She set down mugs in front of everyone, then placed small jugs and containers in the middle of the coffee table. “I didn’t know if you drink your coffee black, like Rae, or take cream and sugar, but this is cashew milk and date paste. I keep some around for when my sister visits me. She’s into health food too.”
CC clutched her chest. “That’s so considerate of you.”
It was. Rae gave her a nod of acknowledgment but still hoped Steph would stop being so nice to her parents or they’d never stop matchmaking.
When Steph didn’t keep a mug for herself, CC peered up at her with obvious disappointment. “You’re not joining us?”
“No. Sorry.” Steph looked as if she was genuinely sorry, not only saying so. “I still have some stuff to prepare for when I go to the hospital later today.”
Rae paused with the mug halfway to her lips and frowned up at her. “You have to go to the hospital? What’s wrong?” Steph looked perfectly healthy to her with her easy smile, relaxed stance, and the glimmer of mischief in her gray eyes. Not that all sicknesses and disabilities could be detected by looking at the person, of course; Rae knew that from personal experience.
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m doing a gig there.” Steph sent her a teasing smile. “Worried about me?”
Rae kept her face impassive. “Nah. Of course not. I just wanted to know if I’d have the apartment to myself for a couple of days.”
“Oh yeah. So you could throw all the wild parties you want. Sure.” Without listening to Rae’s protests, Steph picked up a battered notebook from the floor, waved to Rae’s parents, and disappeared in her room.
CC watched her go, then turned toward Rae and put one hand on her knee. “Now tell me. How are you really?”
“I really am fine.”
“Do you like your job?” Lonnie asked.
Did she? Not working had never been an option for her, even if her disability pension had been enough for her to afford not to, so she hadn’t given it much thought. “Yeah, I think I do. It’s not the same as being on the force, but it’s all right for now. It’ll keep me busy until I figure out what I want to do with my life.”
“At least you don’t have to carry one of these horrible weapons and have people shoot at you,” CC whispered.
Rae sighed. “CC…”
“What? Is it wrong of me to worry about you?”
“No. But there’s no reason to worry, okay?”
“Well, I worry a lot less now that I met your roommate.” Somehow, CC managed to make it sound like the love of your life. “I think she’s gonna keep an eye on you, and from the way you watched her in the kitchen earlier, you’ve got an eye on her too.” She paled under her tan. “I didn’t mean to…”
“Relax,” Rae said. “It’s a perfectly innocent phrase. I don’t want you to censor yourself around me, okay?”
CC chewed her bottom lip and nodded.
Rae gulped down the rest of her coffee and slapped her thigh. “C’mon, I’ll give you the nickel tour.”
An hour later, Rae knocked softly on Steph’s door. At Steph’s “come in,” she opened it a few inches and peeked in.
Steph stood in the middle of the room, facing the mirrored closet doors, a piece of paper in one hand. Had she been practicing her routine in front of the mirror?
“Yes?” Steph tilted her head when Rae didn’t say anything.
“Oh, um, my parents are getting ready to leave and want to say goodbye.”
Steph let the piece of paper flutter to her bed and followed Rae into the living area. “CC, Lonnie, it was so nice to meet you. You’re not driving back to Oregon tonight, are you?”
“No,” Lonnie said. “We have friends all over California. With all the visits we have promised them, it’ll probably take us at least three weeks to make it back.”
“That’s great. But still, drive carefully.” Steph hugged them both warmly and received sincere em
braces in return.
Rae watched with a puzzled frown. How did some people manage to do that…bond so quickly? She’d never understand it. She allowed herself to get pulled into tight hugs of her own and promised to take good care of herself.
Then the door closed behind her parents, and Rae imagined she could hear their RV sputter to life and then race away faster than the speed limit allowed. Finally, she turned toward Steph. “Sorry you had to entertain them earlier.”
“No apology necessary. They’re great. I wish my parents were more like them.”
Rae eyed her skeptically. As a child, she had always wished her parents were more like those of other kids—more normal. Wherever they had gone, Rae had stuck out like a sore thumb with her homemade clothes, her carob-covered birthday cake, and her ignorance of pop culture or anything that other kids had seen on TV.
“Honestly,” Steph said. “My parents still think this is a phase I’ll eventually grow out of.”
“Yeah, I admit I was lucky in that regard. My parents threw me a coming-out party when they found out I’m gay.” Rae wrinkled her nose. “Complete with rainbow-colored streamers, dancing to ‘I Am What I Am,’ and a vegan pride cake.”
Steph laughed. “I can see them doing that. But that’s not what I meant. My parents are completely fine with me being bi. It’s my job they have a problem with. They think stand-up is a silly hobby that I’ll give up once I really grow up. But when I told your parents that I’m a comedian… Wow.” She shook her head, wide-eyed wonder on her face. “They embraced me as a fellow artist and looked at me as if stand-up might save the world or something. I don’t think that has ever happened to me before.”
She radiated so much astonished pleasure that Rae couldn’t help being proud of her parents. Maybe being different from the norm was a good thing sometimes. “I don’t think stand-up is going to cure cancer or solve world hunger, but for what it’s worth, I respect the hell out of anyone who bares their soul to a room full of strangers, just to get them to laugh.” She shuddered at the mere thought of having to do that.
“Wow, thank you.” Steph’s gray eyes lit up so they looked nearly silver. “Was that a compliment from Rae Coleman?”
Rae rubbed her neck and looked away. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. It’s probably the full moon or Mercury being in retrograde or something.”
Steph chuckled. “Don’t worry. I won’t get a big head or expect you to dole out daily compliments.” She glanced at her wristwatch. “Oops. I’d better get going.” She took two steps toward the door, then turned back around. “Wait. How’s this?” She lifted an invisible microphone to her mouth. “It probably won’t come as a surprise to you to learn that hospital fashion isn’t designed by Versace or Armani. If you’ve ever seen someone in a hospital gown from behind, you know why they call it ICU.”
Rae gave her a bland look.
“ICU… I see you. Get it?”
“Yeah, I get it.”
A sigh rose up Steph’s chest. “So you just don’t find it funny. Jeez, tough crowd. It’s not that bad, is it?”
There was something funny about it, but Rae usually needed to be in a relaxed mood to laugh at jokes—and it had been quite some time since that had last happened. “It’ll probably do fine with the hospital crowd. I’m not the right person to try stuff out on. You know us cops. We have to check our sense of humor at the door when we enter the Police Academy.”
Steph snorted. “Said the woman who just cracked a joke.”
Rae waved her hand as if chasing away a bothersome fly. “You’d better go and break a leg, or whatever comics say when they wish someone good luck.”
“We say go and kill them…or slaughter them.”
Rae had heard phrases like that in the club. “God, what are you guys? A bunch of serial killers?”
“Some of us might be.” Steph tried for a menacing expression but didn’t quite make it.
Rae gave an unimpressed shrug. “I sleep with one eye open anyway.” Steph couldn’t know it, but that wasn’t all that far from the truth since her one eye didn’t close all the way when she slept. Now Rae did grin a little, a slow, hesitant twitch of her lips, as if her mouth had forgotten how to do it. She lifted her hand and touched her lips. That was a surprise. Except for the usual dark humor cops were famous or maybe infamous for, she hadn’t found much reason to smile or been able to joke about the aftermath of the shooting.
Well, what do you know? Rae stared after Steph, who gave a wave and strode to the door, on her mission to cheer up folks in the hospital. Life with a comic seemed to have its bright sides after all.
CHAPTER 9
Seeing Rae outside of their cozy little apartment was weird. She looked different towering over the patrons who were lined up in front of The Fun Zone. More intimidating. The sliver of a smile Steph saw at home every now and then was completely absent. But damn, she looked good in her black suit and tie.
What was it about a woman in uniform, even if it was one like this? Steph found her gaze lingering. It had to be the queer equivalent of a Pavlovian reflex.
As Steph approached the front of the line, Rae watched her with a stoic face, as if she didn’t recognize her.
Clearly, she was in work mode, so Steph reined in her mischievous streak and greeted her with a friendly but professional smile. “You’re not going to make me pay this time, are you?”
“Depends.” Rae’s expression was unreadable. “Are you on the lineup tonight?”
“No. But I’m hoping to change that. That’s why I’m here. I’m trying to convince the club owner to give me a chance at a headliner spot.”
Rae raised her brows. “A headliner spot? Wow, you’re aiming high.”
Steph shrugged. “I’ve had gigs as an opener at The Fun Zone before. But I won’t impress any scout if I’m only doing two minutes of my material here and there. I need to headline a show.”
“Good luck with that,” Rae said. “Mr. Hicks hasn’t hired a female headliner since I started working here six weeks ago.”
“Longer than that,” her colleague Brandon threw in. “I don’t think we’ve had a female headliner since Mr. Hicks bought the club last year.”
A frown made Rae’s expression even more intimidating. “I didn’t think he’d be so sexist. He hired me, after all.”
“Yeah, well, you could probably bench-press him.” Brandon chuckled and raised his fist to give her a light punch to the shoulder, but a glare from Rae made him change his mind. “I don’t think he’s sexist. He just doesn’t believe women are funny.”
“And that’s supposed to not be sexist?” Steph shook her head. “Hasn’t he ever heard of Ellen, Tina Fey, Wanda Sykes, or Hannah Gadsby? There are plenty of funny women!”
Brandon held up his hands. “Preaching to the choir. Don’t tell me; tell Mr. Hicks.”
“I will.” Steph braced herself for an uphill battle. Somehow she had to convince Mr. Hicks to let her headline a show. Gigs in hospitals, cafés, and bars were good practice, but they barely paid enough to cover the gas, and they wouldn’t turn her into a household name. If she could record herself doing an entire hour of solid material in one of the best clubs in LA and send it to the bookers for comedy networks, she might finally get the TV credits she needed to make her career take off. “Okay, here goes nothing.”
But when she went to enter the club, Rae didn’t step aside to let her through. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Steph couldn’t resist. She formed her lips into an exaggerated pucker. “Kiss for good luck?”
Rae scowled and rubbed her thumb and forefinger together in the universal gesture for money.
What? Steph couldn’t believe it. Her roommate seriously expected her to pay to get in? “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Actually…yes. Go on in.”
So much for former cops not having
a sense of humor—even if it was a really weird one. Steph threw her a wait-until-you-get-home look, which Rae answered with an unimpressed stare. With a shake of her head, Steph marched past her.
She waved at a few of her comedy buddies, who sat at the bar, nursing beers.
The raised stage in the main room was still empty, but a sound tech fiddled with the audio system, the small tables were starting to fill, and waitresses scurried around, taking the first drink orders.
Steph glanced at the mic standing out from the background of the fake brick wall. This was where she wanted to be—but first she had to convince Mr. Hicks that it was where she belonged.
She made her way down the hall and knocked on his office door. With the noise from the bar area, it was hard to make out a reply, so she opened the door a few inches. “Mr. Hicks? I called earlier today…” And yesterday…and the day before. “And you said to come see you next time I was in the club, so…”
He looked up from his paperwork and squinted at her as if he didn’t remember their conversation—and didn’t remember her from all the other times she had asked him for a spot in the lineup either. Sighing, he tossed his thick pen onto his desk and waved her in.
Compared to the showroom, which seated four hundred people, his office was downright tiny, and every last inch of it was cluttered with papers and promotional material.
Mr. Hicks jerked his chin in the direction of the chair on the other side of his desk, and Steph quickly sat before he could change his mind. “Did you happen to have some time to take a look at the link I sent you?”
He gestured at his desk. “Does this look like I have time for anything?”
This wasn’t off to a good start. “Um, probably not. It’s a link to a video of me headlining a show at Tickle Me Funny.”
Despite the name-dropping, he didn’t look impressed. “So?”
“I’ve put together a very solid show over the past year, and I’ve had success with it all over the country. I was wondering if you’d let me headline a show at The Fun Zone. It doesn’t need to be on a Saturday. The late show on a Thursday would be great.”