Lala Pettibone's Act Two

by Heidi Mastrogiovanni

  “Clark, things may get loud back here,” Helene said.

  “Excellent, Ms. Helene.”

  And now they were at the curb at LAX, and Brenda had just exited the arrivals terminal, and Lala’s heart was in her throat.

  “Brenda, Helene. Helene, Brenda.”

  Lala watched Brenda and Helene eye each other warily.

  And then Lala watched big, genuine smiles spread over each of their faces, and she watched the two women hug each other in what she had no choice but to interpret as a genuinely warm hug, because there wasn’t enough cynicism left in her to question their gracious sincerity.

  “I’m so glad to meet you,” Helene said.

  “Me too. This is going to be so much fun.”

  Wow, Lala thought. Tons of grace. And tons of booze on the horizon. Was I Joan of Arc in a previous life? Is this payback?

  “May I borrow Brenda for a quick moment?” Lala asked.

  She pulled Brenda a few feet away from the limousine.

  “Okay, a couple of things. I can’t thank you enough for being so warm and gracious to Helene. I absolutely do not deserve you. You should be punching me right now for having been such a completely self-absorbed, godawful whorebag. Punching me. In the face. Repeatedly.”

  “Shut up,” Brenda said. “If I had done the same thing, would you have forgiven me?”

  “I swear, I would have. Just don’t get too chummy with Helene, okay? You know how sensitive I am.”

  “Shut up,” Brenda said.

  Lala handed Brenda an envelope. Brenda opened it and pulled out a check. A big check. Big enough to be the final payment on the forty-thousand-dollar loan.

  “It is lunacy what people will pay to live on the Island of Manhattan,” Lala said. “I mean, crazy. Nutso. Ruth at the rental agency suggested a few cheap upgrades to my place, and now I’m charging a thousand dollars more a week. Because I can. Don’t go blowing all that at the blackjack tables.”

  _______________

  “What are the odds that Auntie Anne’s Pretzels serves cocktails?”

  Clark had just dropped the ladies off at the Desert Hills Premium Outlets, an oasis of discount consumerism. Lala had leaned in the driver’s side window and pushed her boobs together with her biceps, handed two crackling crisp one hundred dollar bills to their driver, flashed him a knowing grin, and told him to go somewhere and get himself a nice lunch and maybe a massage because they were going to be hanging out at the mall for as long as it took.

  “As long as it takes, Clark,” Lala intoned with the sex-soaked inflections of a young Brigitte Bardot if that Gallic icon had suddenly learned to speak accent-free English. “Maybe go catch a movie after lunch. We’ve got shoppin’ to do. Normally, I hate shopping. But today I’m feeling strangely serene and even a little enthused. Probably because I am already half in the bag. Isn’t that great? Have fun, kiddo.”

  And then Lala leaned in further and kissed Clark square on the lips, which Clark deemed, “Excellent, Ms. Lala,” to which Lala responded, “Please, call me Ms. Babe,” before he sped off in a cloud of desert dust.

  Helene’s bachelorette gift to Geraldine was a new outfit for everyone to wear to the Cirque du Soleil spectacle they would be attending that evening, the tickets for which were also part of Helene’s gift to Geraldine. Helene had chosen “Zumanity” for their Las Vegas show because, as she read aloud in the limo from the pages she had printed via their website, “This highly eroticized, cabaret-style spectacular has an array of unique characters whose performances are each themed by different elements of sexuality.”

  “I’ve heard about this show,” Brenda said. “They call it Cirque du Soleil’s sex show. That’s how I’ve heard it described. This is so cool.”

  “I can’t wait to see the sex show,” Lala panted as they all sprinted toward the web of stores that seemed to be alive, and, if not actually alive, then surely seemed to be undulating like a living presence and definitely calling all their names like so many mythic sirens. “Did you see that guy? That picture of that guy in the show? The tall, really handsome one? He’s mine. I saw him first. You know, Auntie Anne’s really might serve booze. It’s not entirely outside the scope of possibility. Should we stop there first to check before we head for the BCBG, does everyone know that stands for ‘bon chic, bon genre,’ store? Or I bet maybe Cinnabon at least serves wine. Should we check first before we start shopping? Why is everyone ignoring what I’m saying? Omigod, look at that shirt!”

  The presumably seasoned sales staff at the BCBG store spun on the varying locations of their heels at the sound of four sets of palms shoving open doors that would have opened automatically, but apparently not quickly or emphatically enough for the bride-to-be and her entourage.

  Lala lead the charge down a rack of evening wear.

  “Normally, I don’t even like shopping, but I bet this would look great on me, and Brenda should try this on, and I think Helene would look amazing in this, so—”

  “Gimme that, gimme that, gimme that,” Geraldine ordered. She snatched all the clothes Lala had grabbed and was distributing only moments earlier and handed the pile to a saleswoman who was following them all to offer mute assistance.

  “Hey, hey, hey, those were cute! Give those back!” Lala demanded.

  “Hush,” Geraldine said. She did a grand, confident sprint up and down all the aisles and returned laden with finery. She handed out armfuls of designer clothes to Lala, Brenda, and Helene, keeping a sizable portion for herself.

  “You try this on and you try this on and you try this on. Don’t start whining, Lala.”

  “Awwww, this color is gonna look terrible on me! I don’t wanna try this on! I wanna try on what I picked out!”

  Only half an hour later, Geraldine executed a victory stroll outside their four adjacent dressing rooms. She was wearing a flowing silk dress with blocks of tangerine and turquoise and white and grey. It hit just below her knees in the front and fell to her ankles in the back.

  Geraldine paused outside Lala’s dressing room door to watch Lala look at herself in the mirror.

  “Never in my life would I have chosen sequins,” Lala said. “But the pale rose makes these so subtle. I can’t believe this works. Geraldine, you’re a genius. P.S., I swear, if Helene looks as good in that black, strapless number as I suspect she does, I am going to stage a major snit.”

  “I don’t know why you don’t do this professionally, Geraldine,” Helene announced from her dressing room.

  “Geraldine, you are incredible,” Brenda yelled from hers, which was at the far end of the row. “I would have bet money I would look like a clown in a leopard-print dress. I am never ever going shopping without you again.”

  Brenda poked her head outside her dressing room and saw Geraldine in her new clothes for the first time.

  “Omigod, Geraldine, look at you. You look fabulous.”

  Helene and Lala ran out of their rooms.

  “You do,” Lala said. “You look fabulous. And Brenda looks fabulous, and Helene looks fabulous, and I look fabulous. Seriously, that’s the only adjective I have left right now, that’s how happy I am. I can’t wait to go to the sex show looking like this. You wait and see if I don’t get laid tonight. You wait and see if that guy in the pictures Helene printed from the website and I don’t end up naked together somewhere. Somewhere with good lighting. And by ‘good,’ I of course mean ‘forgiving.’ Because he looks young, huh? I can’t wait for the sex show. And sex! I can’t wait for the sex show and the sex après show!”

  _______________

  “No. Seriously. How great is it to be away from home?” Lala brayed.

  She did a running leap onto the sectional couch in the living room of their Prestige Bella Suite at the Palazzo Hotel on the Vegas Strip, the cost of which Lala and Brenda and Helene were splitting as a bachelorette gift to Geraldine.


  Geraldine and Helene and Brenda started unpacking, and Lala started nearly bouncing off the walls and furniture with excitement.

  Clark had pulled the limo up to the Palazzo and had helped the swarm of Palazzo valets take the luggage out of the trunk before the long car was whisked away to the hotel’s subterranean parking. Clark then checked into the hotel along with the ladies, because Brenda’s bachelorette gift included an all-expenses-paid room for their LA-based chauffeur at the hotel.

  “He is so cute,” Helene said. The four ladies had just dropped Clark off on his floor and were holding the elevator doors open so they could watch him walk down the long hallway. “That ass on him? Divine.”

  “I saw him first,” Lala said.

  And now they were in their suite, and Lala was ignoring her suitcase to act like a toddler who had eaten a ten-foot-tall tower of cotton candy.

  “I feel so free! It’s so great to be away from home and just be yourself and not overanalyze every damn thing and just have fun and just do what you feel like doing and not worry and just be true to yourself whatever that self might be.”

  Wait a minute, Lala thought.

  Her face wrinkled up in concentration, but she did not stop bouncing on the sofa.

  Am I thinking of Manhattan Beach as home? Wow. Holy shit. That is way too weird.

  “Hey! Where’s the wet bar?”

  “Way ahead of you,” Brenda said. Brenda had unpacked, located the in-house source of booze, opened a bottle of white wine, and poured four glasses while Lala was still doing her performance art piece titled “Lunatics I Have Known: A Grating Montage.”

  “Brenda, you are an angel,” Lala said. “May I make the first toast? Pleeeze? Yeah? To Geraldine and Monty. Two of the kindest people I have ever known. I’m so happy you found each other, and, yes, I take full credit. Wishing you years and years and years of surpassing joy together. Auntie Geraldine, if you start crying, I will. And you know I look like shit when I cry. It’s not conducive to the Vegas sexcapade I have planned.”

  “To my new mom, Geraldine,” Helene said. “Thank you for bringing love back to my dad’s heart.”

  “Wait a minute,” Lala said. “Geraldine’s like my mom too. That means Helene and I are kind of like sisters. Cool! We just need to understand that I’m the Alpha Sister, ‘kay?”

  “To love,” Brenda said. “Eternal.”

  Eternal, Lala thought.

  Lala smiled as she recalled the first time she laid eyes on her late husband. And the last time she saw him.

  Did you hear that, Terrance? she silently asked him. Of course you did. Love is eternal. You already knew that, right?

  Lala smiled at everyone and grabbed them into a circle so they could do a big group hug.

  “Tissues,” she said. “Seriously, where do they keep the damn tissues in this place?”

  _______________

  Brenda whispered to Lala as the four women made a grand entrance onto the casino floor of the Palazzo.

  “I’m sorry I made you cry.”

  “No, no, no, do not apologize,” Lala said. “I like thinking about my husband. I’d rather think about Terrance and cry than not think about him. I appreciate you reminding me that love is constant. And forever.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sure if my face doesn’t look red and swollen anymore,” Lala said. “Because I need to get laid tonight. Okay, one more time. Who’s playing what for what?”

  Lala’s bachelorette party gift to her beloved aunt, in addition to covering the cost of all their food and drink in Las Vegas, was to more-than-amply stake the four revelers to the gambling venue of their choice, for the charity of their choice.

  “Blackjack,” Brenda said. “Habitat for Humanity.”

  “Damn, you’re good,” Lala said. “Superb cause. Superb. Auntie Geraldine?”

  “Poker,” Geraldine said. “Big Brothers and Big Sisters of America.”

  “Damn. Superb.”

  “Craps,” Helene said. “Doctors Without Borders, and, yes, Lala, I know that’s Médecins Sans Frontières in French.”

  “Superb choice and it is indeed that in French, God love you,” Lala said. “As for me, I will be playing the slots because there is absolutely no skill required. And is anyone surprised that I will be playing for Dogs of Love? So what are we gonna do?”

  “Win big!” Geraldine and Brenda and Helene cheered.

  “And when are we gonna do it?” Lala roared.

  “Now!”

  _______________

  I cannot fucking believe I am losing like this, Lala thought. Oh, shit, what are they all doing here? What are they all grinning about? What time is it?

  “Eighteen thousand dollars for Doctors Without Borders!” Helene crowed.

  Omigod, that is so fucking superb! Lala thought.

  “Eighteen grand?” Lala spit out, her eyes never leaving the spinning lemons and bells and number sevens that had never been more than a blink away from inducing an aneurism for the past three hours. “That is wonderful. Damn it, is there anything you’re not great at?”

  “You should see Helene play craps,” Brenda crowed. “It is awesome!”

  Brenda, shut up, Lala thought. I’m concentrating on the randomness of cruel fate as manifested in gambling machines that require no skill whatsoever.

  “And what about our bachelorette?” Helene crowed. “A lot of kids are going to get the mentoring they need because of Geraldine. I mean, who knew anyone could take risks like that without blinking an eye? Without sweating a drop? Without shitting her pants?”

  Shoot me, Lala thought. If this entire farce of me losing while everyone else is raking it in, because I’m assuming Brenda won big too, isn’t a metaphor for my life, then I don’t know what is.

  “And then there’s Brenda working the blackjack table like she owns the place. Wow!” Geraldine crowed. “A whole slew of houses will be built thanks to Brenda!”

  Seriously, Lala thought. Shoot me. Now. There must be a mobster around here somewhere carrying a loaded piece equipped with a silencer. Get him over to me. Stat.

  “We were looking for you—”

  “Have you been here the whole time—”

  “You missed a lot of fun—”

  “Why didn’t you come find us—”

  “You haven’t been sitting here the whole time, have you—”

  “Listen, we need to leave right away, or we’ll be late for the show, so let’s—”

  Damn it! Lala thought. I’m going to miss the sex show!

  “Let’s run up to the room and put our bounty in the safe and then we can—”

  This is stupid, Lala thought. If I had written a check for all the damn money I’ve pumped into this damn machine, the dogs would have been better off, and I could be drinking right now. And I wouldn’t have such a stabbing headache.

  “Lala, we need to get going or—”

  “Somebody give me a quarter,” Lala whispered. “Please.”

  You want metaphor, universe, she thought. I’ll give you metaphor.

  “Lala, we don’t have time—”

  I’ve got a feeling, Lala thought. I’ve got a feeling this time . . . Please, God, don’t let me be the loser I’m afraid I might actually be.

  “Please,” Lala whispered. “One quarter. Just one more.”

  The three women started fishing around in their exquisite and quite tiny evening bags that had been bought at the outlet mall along with the four pairs of exquisite and quite ridiculously high-heeled shoes. Helene pulled out a dime and three pennies. Brenda found nine nickels.

  What is she doing with so many nickels? Lala thought. Isn’t that weird. What are the odds? I feel dizzy.

  Geraldine dug through her purse, which she had managed to stuff within an inch of its tiny life.

&nb
sp; “Here,” Geraldine said.

  Geraldine kissed the quarter and thrust it at Lala.

  The three reels began to spin. They picked up speed. Lala swooned on the chair.

  One diamond.

  Is it me, or did they just lower the lights in here? Lala thought.

  The second reel began to slow down.

  Another diamond.

  “Uh oh,” Helene said.

  Am I going nuts, or is it suddenly incredibly hot in here? Lala thought. And why is everything getting all wavy all of a sudden? Am I about to have a flashback?

  The third reel began to slow down.

  “Come on,” Brenda said.

  “Come on,” Geraldine said.

  “You did it!” Helene bellowed. “You won! Look at those numbers go up!”

  “They’re not stopping!” Geraldine yelled.

  “Wow!” Brenda screamed. “Wow! Wow, that is gonna be a huge jackpot! Wow! Lala, you . . . Oh no, get some water! Is there a doctor anywhere in here?”

  Lala slowly opened her eyes and gazed up from the richly carpeted casino floor at the three faces that were staring down at her with so much love and concern.

  “We don’t have time for water,” she gasped. “We don’t have time for a doctor. We have to get to the sex show.”

  “Sweetheart, you just fainted. You are going right upstairs, and you are getting in bed. You are in no shape to attend a lust-drenched Vegas extravaganza.”

  “Omigod, Auntie Geraldine, are you fucking nuts?” Lala whispered. “I have never felt better in my entire life.”

  _______________

  Omigod, Lala thought. Why haven’t I tried lesbianism before?

  If the two stunningly gorgeous women, who were on stage executing a flowing series of sensuous poses together in a vast bowl of water that sat atop a stem in the guise of a massive champagne glass, had paused to look out over the audience, and if these genetically-blessed young women had happened to rest their gazes on the third row center of the theatre, they would have seen four women of various decades staring at them with wide eyes and dropped jaws and lips curled in slight and unwavering smiles.