by Ashlyn Chase
Strong arms hauled her up, dragged her over to a chair, and plopped her onto it. "Stay there," Kevin said. "I'll bring you some coffee."
"I don't want coffee. It'll kill the buzz." She rested her head on the table and decided the word "buzz" was a pretty funny word. "Buzzzzzz… Buzzzzzz…" Suddenly, she sprang to her feet and said, "Time to get up!" Staggering, she made her way toward the door.
"No, Lila!" Kevin yelled. "Don't go."
"Awww… Why? You gonna mish me?" She leaned against the strong oak door for support.
The sensation of the door pulling away from her and her body falling were the last things she remembered.
***
Merry had just walked in the door when her telephone rang. Who could be calling her at midnight? Oh no. I hope nothing's wrong at home. She trotted to the kitchen and grabbed her phone.
"Hello?"
"Merry, it's Jason."
"Hi!" Maybe her lover missed her warm body and
wanted her in his bed for the night. That would be much better than an emergency.
"My dad is sick and I have to go home to Minnesota for a few days."
Her bubble burst. "Oh." She didn't mean to sound so crestfallen, but a few days apart? She couldn't help wondering, was his dad really sick? Or was Jason sick of her?
"What's the matter, honey?"
"Nothing," she said.
"Come on. Nothing always means something."
"Well, it's just the timing. I had hoped to see you. I have a little surprise, but it can wait." She opened the cage and stroked her new pet rabbit as he waited for his food.
"Ah, I see. Well, I need to see my dad. Can you come with me?
"Come with…?" Stunned but pleased that he'd asked, her insecurity abated. "Actually, I can't. I have to work, but I'll keep my cell phone with me in case you need support. What happened?"
"Heart attack. My dad's a typical type-A personality, so it's not terribly surprising."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"My plane leaves tomorrow morning. I'll come down and say good-bye before you leave for work, okay?"
"Uh, sure. What time in the morning?"
"Eight-thirty. I'll have to leave by six. Oh, I forgot. You'll be asleep."
"That's okay, Jason. You can wake me."
"No. You need your sleep. I'll call you when I've seen my dad. That way you'll know my plane landed safely and how long I might be away."
"Sure. That'll be fine."
"I'll miss you," he said softly.
"I'll miss you too."
But since her period had just arrived, she wouldn't miss having to work around that so early in their relationship. At least she had spoken to a doctor at her hospital about those birth control pills that cut your periods down to only four times a year. He'd given her a sample as well as a prescription, so she was going to start on it right away… and while she was at it, maybe they could get tested for AIDS and the two of them could dispense with the condoms.
"Hey, Jason? How would you feel about getting an AIDS test when you get back?"
"Is that my surprise?"
She laughed. "No. Just a thought. If I get tested too, maybe you could ride bareback, if you know what I mean…?"
"Oh, yeah. I know what you mean, and I like how you think. Maybe I'll get my doc in Minnesota to give me a test and I'll bring my results home to you."
"I'd like that a whole lot." And he would like the fact that she'd only have PMS four times a year instead of twelve! That and "Buns" were his surprise.
***
Merry and Roz sat together at the dance club with long faces. Apparently the guys had decided that Roz was Merry's wingwoman and they approached in pairs. The ugly dude asked Roz to dance, while the guy who thought he had a shot with Merry seemed to expect her to jump at the opportunity to dance with him.
So far, everyone paled in comparison to Jason. They seemed way too young. Lots of college students lived in the area. The older men were either drunk or sleazy or both. Merry had refused repeat dances with everyone and was running out of excuses. Her feet hurt, she was tired, she was starting to sweat and hated sweating, etc.
"I'm thinking about leaving, Roz," she shouted over the loud music. "Are you with me?"
"One hundred percent."
They grabbed their evening bags and headed for the exit. When they had escaped outside, Merry's ears were ringing. "Jeez, that music was loud."
"What?"
She raised her voice and spoke to Roz's ear. "Is this an off night, or are most clubs like this?"
"I'm sorry to say, this is fairly typical. You won't find many Jasons in the world, let alone in a place like this." Roz's words seemed muted and far away.
Merry stuck her finger in her ear and wiggled it. "I hate to say this, but I'm maybe an eight and all these threes and fours think they're God's gift. Am I delusional?"
A couple of men passing by gave her a once over. One of them called over his shoulder. "You're a ten, babe. If only I wasn't married…"
Oops. She must have been talking louder than normally, but who could tell?
Roz shook her head and chuckled. "No. You're not delusional, except that you think you're an eight. You're a solid nine, and the only reason you're not a ten is because you're moping."
"I am moping, aren't I?"
"If your face were any longer it would hit the sidewalk."
Merry sighed. They continued to walk in silence until they reached Roz's car. Once inside, Merry sagged against the seat.
"I'm an idiot, aren't I?"
Roz glanced in her direction as she turned the key. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, I thought this whole living in the city experience would be so much different. I admit, I'm not as excited as I should have been tonight, but honestly, where were all the good-looking GQ models? Do they go to different clubs or what?"
Roz laughed. "Yeah, honey. The gay bars. Listen, I'll tell you something my mother once told me. 'For every perfect-looking guy, there's at least one woman who's sick of putting up with his crap.'"
Merry chuckled. "You're mother is probably right about that."
They pulled into the busy street and drove back to Merry's neighborhood. On the way, they passed Brookline Ave. Merry remembered her tour of Fenway Park and the wonderful man who'd not only forgiven her jealous outburst, but made sweet, tender love to her on the couch in a luxury box.
"Did I ever tell you about our trip to Fenway Park?"
"Yes, and did I ever tell you how envious I am?"
A sigh escaped, then hot tears threatened to surface from the corners of her eyes. Oh, no. Don't react like a big baby over this.
It wasn't as if she needed her boyfriend's consent to go dancing with a girlfriend. In a way, she was glad she did. Now, at least she knew what she wasn't missing. Still, she felt guilty.
"You won't tell Jason about this, will you?" Roz asked. "Why not?"
"Why would you? He doesn't need to know you visited a club out of curiosity. It would only hurt him and it certainly didn't amount to anything—except maybe cure you of your ridiculous idea about what single life in the city is like."
Merry inhaled deeply. "I suppose you're right. I can't help feeling guilty, though. He's home with a sick parent and here I was, kicking up my heels—or trying to."
"Hey, he might not be as saintly as you think, either. Didn't he have any girlfriends back home?"
Merry's green-eyed monster grabbed her by the throat. "You don't think he'd… No, I can't picture it. He even asked me to come with him. And he says he loves me."
Roz smiled knowingly. "And you love him."
Merry simply stared at her friend.
"You do, don't you?"
She faced forward and let the traffic mesmerize her. She wasn't ready to admit it before, but now… "You may be right. I was holding back because of this 'ridiculous' city-life idea, as you called it."
"Well, I'm damned glad we burst your bubble."
"I feel like an idiot."
Roz shrugged. "Yeah. Welcome to the human race."
***
Chad knew that Morgaine, besides doing phone sex, was also a first class phone psychic. When he wanted to get her attention, she usually knew it and tuned in to him. Sometimes, however, he suspected that she tuned him out on purpose and pretended not to hear him rattle her beaded curtain, or stomp around, or move light objects.
Like today. He wanted to know what was going on with his investigation, and she was ignoring him.
He had already hidden one of her earrings. It was her favorite pair, too. Dangly copper with Aztec-like designs. She'd said they conduct electricity to her head and third eye. All the better to tell your fortune, my dear… Plus she thought the copper looked groovy against her black hair and black clothing. He saw her searching frantically for the missing one.
Maybe she already knew what he wanted and couldn't tell him anything more than what he'd heard already. That would be just like a psychic, but damn it, the least she can do is ask Jason what's happening. Had he hired a private investigator like he was supposed to? Do they have any leads? Do they need any more information?
Well, we'll see how well she deals with having her phone lines crossed. That ought to get her attention. Oh good—it's ringing and she's across the room. Let's see, which one is it? Ah, the psychic line. Let me make a slight adjustment, and… there. That call is now coming into the phone-sex line. He couldn't wait to see the result of his prank.
Morgaine picked up the telephone and in her sexiest voice, she said, "Hello, lover. This is Venus. Tell me what I can do for you." Silence greeted her.
"You're awfully quiet. Some first time callers need a bit of encouragement. Is that what's going on? I'll do anything you want, and I mean anything."
Click.
"That's odd," she said.
Gwyneth spoke from the kitchen. "What's odd?"
"Someone on the sex line hung up on me. I must be losing my touch."
"Y'all were probably just disconnected. Don't pay it no nevermind."
"Yeah, maybe." Morgaine waited another minute for the caller to try again. When nothing happened, she strolled into the kitchen. "What are you making?"
"I'm tryin' out a recipe for one of those Yule log things."
"Yule isn't until December twenty-first. Why are you making it now?"
"Well, they're tricky. I figure I have plenty of time to practice so I can get it right for the actual day."
"Smart."
The phone rang.
"Oh, there he is, Morgaine. I'll bet he's a shy one who had to screw up his courage." Then she laughed. "Maybe I should reword that."
Morgaine strode toward the phone. "No, you said it perfectly."
Breathlessly, she crooned into the receiver. "Hey, baby. I knew you'd call back. Now don't be shy. We can just talk for a while if you want—if this is your first time…"
A female voice responded. "Uh, no. This isn't my first time."
Morgaine wrinkled her nose.
I've heard her say she doesn't like doing lesbian phone sex and didn't advertise that way, but occasionally it happened and heck, she needed the money. Chad perked up his ghostly ears expectantly.
"Oh, I didn't recognize your voice, sweetheart. Forgive me. What do you need from Venus today?"
"Huh? Is Venus in conjunction with something?"
Morgaine glanced at the phone and double-checked the lines.
Yup. It's the phone sex line, babe. Chad hovered over the desk so he could hear every word.
She sighed. "It's all right. I'm a go with the flow type. Venus can be in conjunction with you, sweetheart. Is that what you need? A little licking? Some finger action? I can strap on a dildo and—"
"What? Excuse me? Do I have the right number? I'm looking for Madam Morgaine, telephone psychic."
Morgaine gasped. "Oh! I'm sorry. No, you must have the wrong number. I—I thought you were my— girlfriend. What number did you dial?"
The woman repeated the number of the psychic line.
Chad knew the two lines were nine-hundred numbers but in no way similar. On purpose. Just to prevent this little problem.
Hmmm, what could have happened?
He blew a breath of cold air down her cleavage.
Morgaine suddenly realized there was a ghost of a chance that the source of the problem might be Chad and her lips thinned to a hard line.
"Ma'am, I think there's something wrong with the phone lines. Could you call back later, please?"
"Okay…" the woman said, sounding confused.
Morgaine hung up, rose, and jammed her hands on her hips. Then she yelled at the ceiling, "You fuckwad, Chad! What the fuck…?"
"Really! Such language, and from a nice Southern girl."
"I'm from Maryland, you idiot."
"That's south of Boston." He laughed. "It's about time I received your undivided attention. I want to know what's happening with my murder investigation."
"Rot in hell, you self-centered, inconsiderate spook!"
"Hey, I don't appreciate the racial slur."
"It wasn't a racial slur, you jerk. It was an insult aimed at your ghostliness. If you were alive, I'd…"
"Yeah? Well, I'm not. So what are you gonna do now?" Chad purposely came close enough to chill her and she shivered.
Gwyneth poked her head around the kitchen corner. "What's goin' on?"
"It's that friggin' ghost. He messed up the phone lines on us, just because I couldn't talk to him right away."
"Well, that's no good, honey. You need to talk to him. Ask him nicely what he wants and tell him we'll help him if he puts the phone lines back the way they were."
Chad backed off. "Listen to your kiss-ass cousin, Morgaine. She knows how to respect her elders."
"You're not my elder. I'm thirty and you're frozen somewhere in your twenties—going on twelve." Morgaine crossed her arms. "Besides, elders are wise and you're just a wiseass. I can't help you. I don't know anything more than you know already."
"Go talk to baseball-boy. Ask him if he hired that private dick. I want to know what's happening on my case."
"Fuckin' A… Okay, I'll ask."
***
"Are you sure you want to do this, Merry?"
Roz put her hand on Merry's shoulder, slowing her
determined march toward the paparazzo's apartment in Dorchester.
"I have to. First of all, what she did was just plain mean, and second, I want to know where she came up with my birth name."
Roz shrugged. "I'll admit it's a hell of a coincidence. Did you tell Jason what you're planning to do?"
"No, he has enough to think about."
"He might have even more to think about if he knew you were in this neighborhood. I don't have a good feeling about this place."
Merry glanced around her. The street was lined with three-story tenements in various stages of disrepair. Chain-link fences surrounded most of the yards. Graffiti decorated the boarded-up, broken windows on one house that seemed to be abandoned. When Merry saw a small face in an upstairs window peering down at her, she shivered. What a place to raise children.
"Look, I was attacked in one of the nicest areas of the city. It can happen anywhere."
Roz glanced all around. "I almost feel sorry for the woman, living in a place like this."
Merry glared at her best friend. "You didn't say what I thought you just said. Did you?"
"No. You misheard me. I said, the woman's a bitch."
"Good. Now, harden your heart or something. We're coming up to her house."
Merry glanced at the paper on which Roz had scrawled the woman's address. A dilapidated grayish blue house with grayish white trim stood behind the obligatory chain-link fence. A gate ran across it and was padlocked. "Damnation! We came all this way and we can't even get to the front door? Isn't that illegal?"
Roz shrugged. "It might be against some fire code or something. Maybe she gets her mail at a post office box and never has visitor
s."