Lala Pettibone's Act Two
Page 28
Before Helene could answer, Clark came back and whisked her off to the dance floor. Geraldine and Lala followed close behind. They spent the next hour dancing in a big group to the better part of the Bee Gees’ oeuvre and were interrupted only when the caterer came over and loudly asked Geraldine if it was time to bring out the wedding cake.
“Oh! No! Not just yet!” Geraldine yelled. She waved to the DJ, who promptly ran into her apartment. “First I’ve got a surprise for my Maid-tron of Honor.”
Lala and the guests watched as the DJ ran out of the apartment with a cart ferrying a multi-component setup that he quickly assembled next to the bar. It included several microphones, a squat black monolith, and a flat screen.
Whoa! Lala thought.
“Whoa,” Lala said. “Karaoke! Wicked cool!”
Geraldine hustled Lala to the performance area and shoved a microphone in her hand.
“But you and Monty should sing a duet together first,” Lala protested.
“We’ll sing one. We’ll sing it last. You go first. I’ve picked out a song just for you.”
“But what if I don’t know it, and what if I can’t—”
“You know it!” Geraldine barked. “We just danced to it.”
“Okay, but I really think the bride and groom should be the first ones to—”
“You go first!” Geraldine yelled. “Jesus!”
Geraldine kissed Lala on the forehead and scrambled away to stand between Monty and Thomas.
“You think it’s a good idea to let her sing alone?” Thomas whispered.
“She won’t be singing alone for long,” Geraldine said. She smiled and gave a nod to the DJ.
Lala squinted at the words that appeared on the screen.
Oh, cool! she thought. I know this one! I love this one! God, I’m gonna start bawling.
And once again the ‘70s came alive with the iconic work of the Brothers Gibb about love and everlasting smiles, as essayed by the delusional song stylings of Lala Pettibone.
Many of the guests looked at Geraldine with confusion and others winced at the sound of Lala trying to hit the right notes, and the sight of Lala blithely being unaware that she wasn’t coming close.
“Geraldine,” Thomas began. “I think you should—”
“Here it comes,” Geraldine whispered.
Lala was about to continue with the second verse when a male voice from outside the walls of the courtyard joined her to salute in song the power of love and everlasting words.
Lala continued to sing as she watched David walk into the courtyard with a maniacally grinning Stephanie and Chuck following at his heels. And then David was right next to her with his wireless microphone, and they were singing together that only words could take your heart away.
“How does she manage to harmonize like that when, forgive me, she’s really quite a dreadful singer,” Thomas whispered to Geraldine.
“Blissful ignorance,” Geraldine said.
And then the song was over, and Lala was staring at David and Stephanie and Chuck were in a lather.
“It’s so cool!” Stephanie giggled. “We had to call the caterer and tell her we were outside with Doctor David, and then she had to come over and tell Geraldine, in code, that we had called. For the timing! To work out the timing for the surprise. Get it? Cool!”
“He’s been here since yesterday,” Chuck chuckled. “In Manhattan Beach! Since yesterday! He’s back. Doctor David’s back!”
“Uh uh uh,” Lala said. “Uh uhhhhhh . . .”
She looked at Geraldine and pointed at her and then pointed at Stephanie and Chuck.
“You knew he was here? You all knew?”
Geraldine grabbed Lala and hugged her.
“David called me last week and said he was a landlubber again,” she explained.
“Doctor David got Geraldine’s number from us!” Stephanie crowed.
“Because Doctor David was able to find our e-mail addresses because we’re listed with the American Veterinary Medical Association,” Chuck gushed. “Isn’t that cool! Doctor David has our e-mail addresses now!”
“You don’t think shit this magical just happens, do you?” Geraldine asked.
_______________
“What’s this?” Lala asked.
Lala and David had been hidden behind one of the pillars dividing the walkway surrounding the courtyard since maybe five minutes after their duet had ended. The party continued at a distance, and their conversation was punctuated by kissing jags that all included at least a few moments of Lala hiking her dress up and wrapping her legs around David’s waist.
David had just handed Lala a box wrapped in silver paper. She put down the bottle of Veuve Cliquot they had been drinking directly from and tore open the package. Inside the box, Lala found a book. She looked at the first page, which had only “For Lala” written on it by hand.
“I printed all the e-mails I wrote to you, and I had them bound as a book. It’s what I would have sent to you every day if we hadn’t agreed we wouldn’t do that. And if the Pacific Ocean had wifi.”
“Oh, David,” Lala said.
She turned the page to the first entries. And frowned and flipped through the rest of the pages.
“David, these are all in French. I mean, I’m entirely enchanted, but it is going to take me fucking forever to actually understand all this stuff.”
David laughed and said, “I’ll help you.”
Yeah, you can help me, Lala thought. You can read to me while we’re naked, ‘kay?
“This is an amazing coincidence,” Lala said. “I’ve written a diary. Well, I’m calling it a diablogary because it’s not written on paper and stuff. It’s written to you. I wrote to you every day while you were away.”
“You did?” David said. “That’s wonderful.”
Shoot, Lala thought. I am such a blurter. And such a broad interpreter of the phrase “every day.” Now unless I stay up all night while he sleeps and excise every reference to James and Theo and also write entries for all the days I haven’t been writing to him, I’m going to look like a major liar. And a major slut.
Lala grabbed David and kissed him.
Oh, well, she thought. Worry about that later.
“Lala?” Geraldine called from the courtyard.
“Hang on one sec,” Lala told David. She poked her head around the corner of the pillar and saw the assembled wedding party and guests standing together staring in her direction.
“Yeah?”
“We were thinking we might cut the cake and throw the bouquet now?” Geraldine said.
“Okay,” Lala said. “Excellent idea. Can you hang on for maybe five more minutes? David and I are mashin’ somethin’ fierce back here.”
“Sure,” Geraldine said. “Take your time.”
“Hey, Helene?” Lala said.
“Yeah?”
“Friendly warning. I will do what it takes to catch that bouquet. I. Will. Do. Whatever it takes to make that sucker mine. Do we understand each other?”
“You’re on.”
“Excellent! We’ll be out in five.”
Lala began kissing David again and after a minute she pulled away.
“David, not to bring the room down, but I have to ask. Where will you be living now? That is to say, and if I may wax nautical once too often, are you planning to drop anchor anywhere in particular for the foreseeable future?”
David shrugged.
“I’m flexible at this point in my life. I mean, I’ve got some conferences in Europe next year, but other than that, no set plans.”
God, I love Europe, Lala thought.
“Are you . . . Were you going to move back to New York sometime?” David asked.
Lala shrugged.
Gosh, Lala thought. I don’t know . . .
“Well, I’m making a lot of money subletting my apartment. And that’s letting me do a lot of . . . you know . . . not to toot my own horn too much unless of course you find self-confidence very arousing . . . charitable stuff that’s making me feel very good. And the weather here is really nice, huh?”
“Yeah,” David said. “I think I could like living in Manhattan Beach. I think I could like it very much.”
David grabbed Lala and kissed her, and Lala hiked her dress up once again and wrapped her legs around his waist and wondered if maybe that sharp twinge she suddenly felt in her left leg meant she might have done damage to the damn thing yet again, and then decided she really didn’t have to waste time worrying if she had injured herself, because even if she had, she knew she would heal. Eventually.
Wow, Lala thought. I bet this is definitely the Act Two that Auntie Geraldine had in mind for me.
Lala’s adventures continue in:
Lala Pettibone: Standing Room Only
About the Author
Heidi Mastrogiovanni is a dedicated animal welfare advocate who lives in Los Angeles with her musician husband and their three rescued senior dogs, Chester, Maggie, and Squeaks. She loves to read, hike, travel, and do a classic spit-take whenever something is really funny. Heidi is fluent in German and French, though she doesn’t understand why both those languages feel they need more than one definite article.
Heidi is a graduate of Wesleyan University and was chosen as one of ScreenwritingU’s 15 Most Recommended Screenwriters of 2013. The comedy web series she writes and produces, Verdene and Gleneda, was awarded the Hotspot on the Writers Guild of America’s Hotlist.
Lala Pettibone’s Act Two, Heidi’s first published novel, embraces the themes found in all of her work . . . It’s never too late to begin again, and it must be cocktail hour somewhere.
Amberjack Publishing
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New York, NY 10003-1502
http://amberjackpublishing.com
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, fictitious places, and events are the products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, or events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 by Heidi Mastrogiovanni
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, in part or in whole, in any form whatsoever without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication data
Names: Mastrogiovanni, Heidi, author.
Title: Lala Pettibone’s act two / by Heidi Mastrogiovanni.
Description: New York, NY: Amberjack Publishing, 2017.
Identifiers: ISBN 978-1- 944995-07- 2 (pbk.) | 978-1- 944995-08- 9 (ebook) | LCCN 2016946573
Subjects: LCSH Middle-aged women--Fiction. | Man-woman relationships--Fiction. | Dating--Fiction. | Los Angeles (Calif.)--Fiction. | Authors--Fiction.| Love stories. | Humorous stories. | GSAFD Chick Lit. | Humor. | BISAC FICTION / Humorous / General | FICTION / Contemporary Women.
Classification: LCC PS3613.A819942 L35 2017| DDC 813.6--dc23
Cover Design: Mimi Bark