by Loy Holder
“Well, maybe this will perk you up. Here’s a check that covers the balance I owe you, including the lawyer and the playground set.” Liz slid the check across the table to Lucille with a triumphant look. “And guess what else? I paid off my dentist and sent my friend Kay a check for the monster car. It’s officially mine now.”
“Wow. That’s amazing.” Lucille gave Liz a warm smile. “And thanks, but there was no rush to pay me back. I like this surprise. I can always use a little extra cash.”
Liz nodded. “You’re welcome. I feel good about paying you back. Now, I can focus on other things.”
“Well,” Lucille said as she stood from the table and waved the check in the air. “I’m going shopping. Nate and I are invited to a wedding at the St. Francis Hotel in San Francisco, and I want to look smashing.”
Lucille went to her room to get dressed, excited about more than a shopping trip. She hoped that Liz’s “other things” included moving, but she hadn’t wanted to ask and spoil the moment. Nate’s been so patient, but more than once he’s told me he wants Liz and the kids to find a place of their own. Looks like she could afford to move out now. Maybe I need to make it a little less comfortable around here.
While contemplating ways to speed up Liz’s departure, short of asking her to leave, Lucille rearranged her upswept red curls, applied bright red lipstick, and walked out the door with the check safely tucked in her purse.
A couple of weeks later, after a movie with the children, Liz drove back to the house and saw Nate’s Chevy Impala parked in the driveway. Damn it. Why isn’t Nate at work? She stalled in the car, dreading to go into the house. Is it my imagination, or have things changed since I paid Lucille off? Nate’s impatient with the children, and Lucille’s critical of how I clean. Liz snapped out of her musings when she heard Ronnie, “C’mon, Mom, I’m hot.” Regina stood by him on the porch, her small hand shielding her eyes from the bright sun.
“OK, I’m coming.” Liz rushed out of the car, praying it would be quiet inside as she turned the key in the lock. It wasn’t. Lucille’s bedroom door was ajar. Sounds of heavy breathing and pleasurable groans could be heard from where they stood in the entryway. Liz looked down at the children and before they could move or speak, she diverted their attention. She turned them around to face her. “I just got an idea. How about an ice cream cone?” They nodded their heads yes, causing Regina’s little curls to bounce up and down, and they followed Liz back to the car.
On the way to the Dairy Queen, the children had a lot of questions. Liz made up yet another story. She didn’t think they were ready for a lesson in sex education. Once they got their ice cream, they forgot all about Nate and Lucille, but Liz didn’t forget. She was angry.
How can I move right now? I should have told Lucille I spent all my savings to pay her off. She made a mental note to talk to Lucille first thing in the morning. The thought of moving was overwhelming, and her head hurt. Right now she had to get home and get ready for work. The kids were done with their cones, so she wiped their messy, ice-cream faces and hands with napkins and drove back to Lucille’s house.
Nate’s car was gone, and Liz sighed with relief as she parked in front of the house. Lucille was in her office and swiveled around in her chair to face Liz as she walked in. Lucille raised her eyebrows. “So…things in the house got a little too hot for you to handle earlier?”
“No,” Liz said, lying to avoid an argument. “The kids wanted ice-cream cones.” She stared at the toe of her shoe to avoid Lucille’s eyes. “Can you watch the kids now? I need to get ready for work.”
“Don’t they usually take a nap while you’re getting ready? I’m still kind of busy here.”
There it was again, that annoyed tone in Lucille’s voice. Liz refused to take Lucille’s bait, and answered evenly, “No. Here lately, they haven’t been napping very much, especially Ronnie. I just put them to bed a little earlier.”
Lucille glanced at her watch, and her face softened. “OK, I didn’t realize it was four thirty. Go take your shower. I got it handled.”
When Liz drove into the Jet parking lot, it was almost full. There was only one spot left. She parked, turned off the engine, and reached for her bag on the passenger side where she’d flung it in a hurry. When she walked into the Jet, her heart did a happy two-step. Ah, Bill’s here.
She made her way to the bar and noticed there was a line of rowdy folks waiting for pizza. She shouted to Sam over the clamor, “You need any help?”
Liz met her behind the bar, and Sam said, “Hey Liz. You’re a sight for sore eyes. Yeah, I got four pepperonis coming out right now. Can you deliver them and some pitchers? Then I can start two more orders, and I’ll be caught up.”
“Sure.” Liz put her stuff in the kitchen drawer. “Set ’em out, and I’ll pour and deliver. Go start the other two pizzas.”
Liz and Sam got through the dinner rush, and things slowed down to a dull roar. Finally, Liz was able to change into her dance attire and start circulating among the crowd. She laughed and joked with the customers, and her comical banter was infectious. She collected empty platters and pitchers, delivered a few more beers, and punched several songs into the jukebox. Soon the music began to play, and she stood in front of the stage, a sensual smile on her face. She lifted her hands and shouted to the attentive crowd, “Let’s get this party started.”
The lights inside the Jet were always nightclub-low, but Lucille had done her homework on stage lighting. It could artfully display a dancer’s mood and motion. Liz stepped into the soft glow and began with a slow number. The song had a slow, undulating beat. Then the music grew faster.
Bill and several other customers moved from their tables, and stood around the stage. They clapped, keeping time with her rousing movements synchronized perfectly to the tempo. The perspiration beaded on her forehead, created tight damp ringlets over the sides of her cheeks, and trickled down her cleavage. She pursed her lips and focused her gaze on Bill. He seemed mesmerized, and Liz thoroughly enjoyed his attention as she swayed and teased him with her eyes.
From behind the bar, Sam watched a tall, disheveled man enter the Jet. At first, he seemed distracted by the bawdy stage show. Then he started walking almost backward. Geez, he’s really into the stage action. She felt uneasy as he edged his way slowly toward the bar.
When he drew closer, she caught a strong whiff of him; it seemed like a mixture of sweat, vomit, and whiskey. When he finally turned to face her at the bar, his eyes were ice-cold, and his face was smudged with filth. She guessed he’d already had a few under his belt, and his look and smell were offensive, but she smiled politely. “What can I get you?”
His lips flattened into a half-smile, and a vein in his forehead bulged. “Give me a pitcher, and fill it to the brim.”
Sam poured him a full pitcher and set it on the bar. He fumbled in his pants pocket and shoved a greasy ten-dollar bill toward her. He examined the level of beer in the pitcher and then looked up with nostrils flaring. “Good job. Keep the change.”
She watched him quietly step through the crowd to the stage with the pitcher. Liz had pivoted around so her back was to Bill and the crowd. Sam thought the man seemed poised as if waiting for something as he held the pitcher up and squeezed between Bill and his coworker Hank, but she didn’t anticipate what would happen next.
Suddenly, Liz backed even closer to the edge of the stage, and the man tossed the icy beer at the back of Liz’s head. Liz shrieked as the cold beer ran down her spine. The man shouted, “That’ll cool you off, you no-good whore,” and flung the empty pitcher on the floor.
Sam ran to the phone and called the Sheriff then watched the scene unfold. Liz moved away from the edge of the stage and seemed to be in a state of shock, while Hank and Bill tackled the man. They tried to wrestle him to the floor, but they couldn’t. During the struggle, they turned over tables and chairs sending beer, glassware, and pizza to the floor. The man went wild, bellowing and cursing at his attackers and hol
lering obscenities at Liz as he twisted away from Bill and Hank. He landed a punch to Bill’s jaw, knocking him to the floor. Three more men jumped in to help Hank.
Sam looked on, silently rooting for the four men as they finally wrestled the madman to the floor. While they struggled to subdue him, Hank yelled, “Sam, go find us some rope.”
“On it,” Sam yelled as she sprinted to the maintenance garage behind the Jet. She quickly brought them back some thick cord. Out of breath, she handed the cord to Hank and the men trussed the still-writhing assailant like a turkey. After the man was restrained, Sam followed to see them drag the man, still twisting and cursing, into the maintenance garage and secure him to a post.
From a safe distance, Liz witnessed the skirmish. As the men were fighting to subdue the intruder, Liz caught a glimpse of his familiar face, and her heart stopped. She stood there as some of the beer dripped from the top of her head and down her forehead, stinging her eyes. She could even taste it on her lips. She was soaking wet and petrified as she saw the men drag Ron out of the Jet. She yelled, “Hank, where’re you taking him?”
Hank yelled over his shoulder, “To the maintenance garage.”
Liz stared after them. Oh God, please don’t let Ron get away.
Then she saw Bill sprawled out on the floor and ran to kneel beside him. He was out cold. She saw Sam coming through the rear exit and called to her. Sam rushed over, and Liz looked up. “His jaw is swollen and bleeding. Get me an ice pack.”
“Sure.” Sam was back in a few minutes with a towel and some ice. “Here.” Sam just stood there wringing her hands.
Liz frowned at Sam. “What? You look…twitchy.” She wrapped the ice in the towel. “Did you call the cops yet?”
“I called them twenty minutes ago. Do you know the guy?”
Liz placed the ice pack on Bill’s jaw. “Yeah, he’s my ex-husband. Go call them again.”
Sam winced. “Holy crap. I didn’t know. I’ll go call right now.”
Liz held the ice pack on Bill’s jaw and whispered his name. It took him a while, but he finally stirred and groaned, muffled by the ice pack. “Ow!” He tried to push the ice pack away. “That hurts, and who the hell hit me?”
“That was my ex-husband.” Liz removed the ice pack for another look at his face. “Your eye and cheek are badly swollen. You might need a doctor.”
“Nah.” Bill struggled to sit up. “I’ll be fine. Man, he’s a mean son of a bitch.”
“Thanks for trying to help me. Here, put this ice pack back over your jaw.”
His words were muffled by the towel. “Pretty lady, I’m just glad you weren’t hurt. I can tell your life’s been hell with him.”
Five minutes more passed before two sheriff deputies arrived. Liz explained what had happened, and that Ron was tied up in the maintenance garage. She answered their questions and agreed to press charges. Then she escorted them to where Hank was standing guard over Ron.
Liz stood by while the deputies exchanged the crude cord for handcuffs and followed them as they walked Ron to the parking lot. Just before they put him into the squad car, Ron shouted at her, “I’m going to make you pay for everything, bitch.”
She heard one of the deputies say, “Shut the hell up, Harmon, and get into the car.” She watched as the deputy jerked Ron around by the arm, put his hand on Ron’s head, and guided him into the back seat.
When the squad car pulled out of the parking lot, she massaged a tight muscle in her neck and frowned. What if he gets out on bail?
* * *
Chapter eighteen
Liz stood in the middle of the Jet floor and gave a breath-cleansing sigh of relief that Ron was going to jail. Hank interrupted her moment of calm and asked to use the phone. She pointed to the wall near the bar.
Bill stood with his arms folded and grinned at her. “Well, pretty lady, now what?”
She chuckled. “Don’t you need to call your boss? You never made it back to work, and what about your jaw? Your eye and the whole side of your face are swollen.”
“Ah, I’m fine, and what about the mess in here? I’ll be back in a minute. I need the restroom.”
Hank finished his call and walked over to Liz. “OK. I’m gonna take my sorry ass home. I’m dead on my feet.”
“Hank, I don’t know how to thank you.”
Hank nodded and gave a weak smile. “No problem. I’m just glad he’s off the street.” She watched as Hank walked out the door, and then her eyes fell to the floor. She shook her head in disbelief as the huge amount of broken glass and debris finally registered in her mind.
Bill came from the bathroom and stood with her. He motioned with his hand. “I can help you clean up this mess, and don’t worry about my boss. I called him a while ago.”
“Oh, rats, speaking of bosses, I need to call Lucille. Give me a few minutes.” Yikes! Things are already strained between us. How’s she going to react? She bit her lip as she dialed the number.
The phone rang three times before Lucille answered. She sounded half-asleep. “Hello.”
“Lucille, it’s Liz. We’ve had a situation here,” and she blurted out the whole story. “Do we leave this mess for the insurance people, or should we stay and clean up?”
“Just come on home. You sound worn out.”
Whew, that went well. Liz took a breath. “Yeah, I’m exhausted and I feel terrible that it happened.”
“Don’t feel bad. We’ll deal with it tomorrow. I’m glad you and Sam weren’t hurt. I’ll make some calls in the morning.”
Liz hung up the phone and walked over to Bill. He looked perplexed, as he occupied the one table and chair still standing. She asked, “Would you like a Coke?”
“No, water will do, and you’re smiling. So what’s the scoop?”
“Well, Lucille took it pretty well. She said to leave the mess and come home. She’s gonna call the insurance company tomorrow morning.”
“Good. Why don’t you tell Sam, and we can talk more outside?”
“OK. I just need to put the cash in the safe and change my clothes. My costume is still soaked with beer.”
Liz found Sam staring down at her empty palms in the kitchen. She looked pale, and her backside was leaning against the counter. When Liz came in, Sam looked up. “Did you call Lucille?”
“Lucille took it pretty well. She said for us to leave the mess and go home.” Liz stepped closer and frowned. “You look terrible. Are you all right?”
“I am now,” Sam said with a shaky laugh. Then letting her head fall back, she said, “I just wouldn’t have the energy to help you clean this place up tonight.” With a weak smile, she asked Liz, “What’s up for tomorrow?”
“I’ll call you once Lucille and I get things figured out, so just grab your things and go on home. I still need to put the cash in the safe and get out of this wet costume.”
Liz counted the cash. Damn, only a few hundred dollars here. She shrugged and locked it in the safe. Lucille won’t be happy with the night’s profits, but I’m too beat to care.
The stench of stale beer stormed up her nose as she shed her wet dance outfit. She could smell it in her hair and on her skin, too. Her body ached from the overdose of adrenaline still flowing through her veins, and she was even too drained to get excited about being alone with Bill. She left the restroom, turned off all but the night-lights, and saw Bill waiting by the door.
In the dark, she fumbled in her bag for her keys and felt him move closer. She chuckled as she turned to face him. “You better stand downwind from me. I stink.”
His laugh felt like a soft caress, and he shook his head. “All I smell is your erotic scent.” He ran a finger lightly over the exposed skin above her T-shirt, licked his finger, and held it up. “Mm, tasty.”
Liz laughed. “You’re pretty frisky for a guy who just got clobbered.”
He moved closer and whispered, “Standing near you has recharged my battery.” He tilted her chin up, and his dark eyes held hers like a vise. Before
she could protest, he kissed her. She dropped her bag on the floor, wrapped her arms around his neck, and her exhaustion melted away. His tongue explored her mouth in a long kiss, while his hand gripped her bottom and pulled her tight against him.
She lingered, caught in a web of pure pleasure. She felt his desire grow against her, and her tongue responded to his. Suddenly her back was against the wall, and he kissed and nuzzled her neck while his hands tantalized her. To savor the moment, she wanted to see the look of desire on his face. But, she caught a glimpse of the wedding ring, a tacit reminder. She felt a chill and pulled away from his touch, struggling to breathe. “Whoa.” She shook her head. “I can’t do this. It’s wrong.” She picked up her bag to get her keys, and they rattled in her trembling hand.
Bill moved away from the door, and ran a hand through his hair. “I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” He stared at her for a moment, then folded his arms across his chest, and his white teeth flashed in the dim light. “I enjoyed every minute. I need you like I need air to breathe.” She shook her head as she opened the door, and they stepped into the outside lights. After she locked the door, she met his intense gaze, and he gently shook her shoulders, a beseeching look on his face. “You were there with me, for a second, weren’t you?”
A tear ran down her cheek. “For a second, yes. But I can’t forget you’re married, and it bothers me that you forget. You said you weren’t sorry, but I am. I let myself get carried away, and with my intense need for you comes pain. I feel it right now. All I can have of you are secret, stolen moments. You can’t give me more.”
“What are you saying?” Bill’s voice was harsh and his face was flushed and tight.
Liz thought he looked angry. Damn. He just cares about his own needs. “I’m saying I don’t need any more pain in my life. Look, I—”
“The last thing I wanted to do was cause you pain.” Bill shook his head as he backed away. “I’m gonna go.”