by Vickie Fee
I could hardly argue with the price. And, as an outsider, I didn’t have the connections to book a private dining room on such short notice.
“Jana, are you sure? I mean, you have the conference going on, as well as your own job.”
“No trouble. Give me your cell number and I’ll text you with the particulars. Would you like me to arrange a limo to pick y’all up at the hotel?”
“No, thanks. I have a cousin in town who is taking care of transportation for us.”
I decided not to mention he was an aspiring Elvis tribute artist, who drove an old taxi to make ends meet.
Jana may not be my favorite person, but I felt pretty good about having a nice evening in store for Mama. And I wouldn’t have to do anything except hand a waiter my credit card. I glanced at my watch. It was only a little after 11:00 a.m. Not a bad day’s work.
I paused in front of the elevators to check my messages. There was a voice mail from Mama. I must have missed it when I switched the phone to silent during the Web site session.
“Liv, this is Mama. Betty and I went to the beauty shop to get our hair done. Little Junior picked us up and drove us to the hairdresser Crystal goes to. I thought her hair was cute, didn’t you?”
Mama asking a question in a voice mail that you have no opportunity to answer is pretty much also the way she carries on conversations in person.
“Anyway, Randi—that’s spelled with an i—has invited us to have lunch with her and the manicurist at the Chinese buffet next to the salon. They say it’s really good. After lunch Betty and I are going to have our nails done. There are two nail techs here, so if you and Di want to join us, we can all go ahead and get manicures before the wedding tomorrow. If you want to come, call Little Junior to pick you up at the hotel and drive you over.”
I still had no reply from my earlier text to Di, which worried me a little. So I called her.
“Hi, what’s going on?” she said, before I had a chance to speak.
“That’s what I was going to ask you. Earl and Larry Joe and his dad are off doing man stuff of some sort. Mama and Miss Betty are at the hairdresser and invited us to join them after lunch for a manicure, if you’re game. Do you want to do lunch and then get our nails done?”
“I’m meeting Jimmy for lunch at eleven-thirty, but I can meet you in the lobby at twelve-thirty to go to the salon, if that’s not too late for you?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“I’ll see you in a bit,” Di said, ending the call quickly, before I could ask questions about her lunch date.
I had a whole list of questions I planned to ask her.
I strolled toward the food court, feeling a little sorry for myself that I had traveled to Vegas in a party of eight and was having lunch as a party of one. I consoled myself with a large slice of pizza, followed by an ice-cream cone.
Chapter Four
During lunch, Larry Joe called and told me he, his dad, and Earl were out shopping for campers.
“No offense, honey, but I can’t believe Mama would leave something as important as picking out her honeymoon camper up to you three.”
“She’s not. We’re just reconnaissance shopping. Once we narrow it down to a few good prospects, she and Earl will make the final decision together. Although I doubt Earl will have much to say about it.”
“That sounds more like my mama. By the way, you didn’t mention Dave. Is he not with you?”
“No. I talked to him briefly, but he said he has a buddy on the Vegas police force he was hoping to catch up with today. Yeah, I’m coming,” Larry Joe yelled away from the phone. “Look, hon, I gotta go. We’re moving on to the next camper lot.”
“Good luck.”
I couldn’t help wondering if Dave catching up with a police buddy included him checking up on Jimmy Souther’s criminal record.
As I left the food court area to meet Di, I got a text from Jana, saying everything was arranged. Dinner was at seven-thirty. The concierge at the hotel would direct us to the private dining room. Perfect. I texted Jana with a thank-you, and asked her to add a moderately priced bottle of champagne to my dinner order.
Di was already standing near the entrance staring out the front doors when I got to the lobby area, about twelve-twenty. At least she hadn’t had a long lunch with Jimmy. She turned my way as I approached and waved in recognition.
“Sorry I didn’t reply to your text earlier. I didn’t sleep much and was slow to get moving this morning.”
“No problem. Where did you and Jimmy have lunch?”
“We just grabbed a quick bite at the bar and grill on the second level. So, where are we going to get our nails done?”
Clearly, she was trying to change the subject, but I wasn’t about to let her get away with it.
“What difference does it make where we’re getting our nails done? I want to hear what happened last night when your current beau and your ex-husband met. Or is it too painful to talk about?”
“It’s too stupid,” Di said. “Why do men puff out their chests and lock horns like something on Wild Kingdom when they think another male is infringing on their territory? And, as unlikely as it sounds, Jimmy Souther was actually acting more mature than Dave Davidson.”
“Did they get into a scuffle?”
“No, nothing physical. After introductions and hellos, Jimmy tried to get back to his drink and our conversation—which Dave had interrupted. Dave leaned between us, telling me he was calling it a night on gambling and suggested I should come with him and join up with you and Larry Joe.
“I gave him a drop dead look and said, ‘Tell Liv and Larry Joe good night for me. I’ll see all of you in the morning.’ But instead of leaving, like a gentleman, he said he thought he’d stick around and join Jimmy and me for a drink. Then he started getting all up in Jimmy’s face like he was interrogating a suspect. I honestly believe Dave was trying to find out if Jimmy had violated his parole or trying to goad him into doing something to violate his parole.”
“What did you do?” I said.
“There wasn’t much I could say without making it worse. You know how bullheaded Dave can be. When he gets like that, he shall not be moved. Jimmy had given me a business card for the place he works. So I finally just told Jimmy I’d talk to him later when the law wasn’t around. I grabbed my purse and left. Fortunately, the elevator door closed just in time to shut Dave out. He makes me so mad sometimes,” Di said, shaking her head.
“How did you end up hooking up with Jimmy for lunch today?”
“Oh, I told you he gave me his card. He works as a bartender, and while we were talking last night he told me he was fixing to head out to work the late shift. Bars are open twenty-four hours in Vegas, you know. So after I got back to my room, I waited an hour and called the bar. They were busy and he could only talk a minute, so we arranged to meet here for lunch. He couldn’t stay long because he had a meeting about a business venture he and a friend are trying to get going.”
I wanted to ask Di more about Jimmy and his new “business venture,” but I spotted Little Junior standing beside his cab under the portico, waving his arms wildly to attract my attention.
“Oh, here’s our ride,” I said.
“Don’t bring up Jimmy in front of your cousin,” Di said, touching me on the sleeve as we walked out the front door. “I don’t think he keeps many secrets from your mama.”
I realized I hadn’t told Di about Larry Joe saying Dave had gone to catch up with an old buddy. But seeing how upset she was with Dave already, I decided maybe it was best not to mention it.
“Ladies, your carriage awaits,” Little Junior said, opening the car door for us.
He pulled away from the curb, down the driveway, and expertly merged into traffic on the busy Strip. He was actually a good taxi driver.
“Thanks for hooking Mama up with Crystal’s hairdresser. Mama sounded pleased when I talked to her.”
“No problem. I didn’t want your mama getting gouged by the pric
es at the hotel salon. Plus, I know Randi’s good—Crystal’s been going to her for years. And I want Aunt Virginia to look her best for the wedding. I know that’s important to a woman.”
My cousin had grown up to be a sensitive and considerate man, who absolutely doted on my mother. It was hard for me to believe this was the same kid who had tried to flush my little sister’s Barbie down the toilet.
“Little Junior, a friend of mine has arranged for a private dining room at another hotel tonight. It’s kind of a little bachelorette dinner for Mama with just us women. Would you be able to drive us over this evening? We have a reservation at seven-thirty.”
“Of course. I’ll pick y’all up at about five after.”
“Thank you. But, Little Junior, I insist on paying you something. We keep taking you away from paying fares and that’s not right.”
“No, Liv. I won’t accept a dime. You hurt my feelings. I mean, y’all are family. You wouldn’t charge your mama for planning a party, would you?”
I’ve been tempted, I thought.
“No, probably not.”
“Well, then.”
“Thanks, cuz. You’ve been more than generous, and I know it means a lot to Mama, getting to spend some time with you.”
“Don’t know if she told you, but she invited me and Crystal to the wedding.”
“Well, of course. Like you said, you’re family.”
I was glad for him to be at the wedding, but I just hoped he wouldn’t get into another altercation with his rival Elvis impersonator.
The beauty salon was in a nondescript shopping center away from the glamour and neon of the Las Vegas Strip. This wasn’t the part of the city where tourists usually ventured. This was where the locals shopped and ate and had their hair done.
Little Junior dropped us at the door.
“Aunt Virginia’s supposed to call me when you gals are finished. See ya later.”
When we entered the Touch of Beauty Salon, Mama and my mother-in-law were sitting side by side at the manicurists’ tables, their fingertips soaking in small bowls of warm, sudsy water.
“Hey, girls,” Mama said as we walked in. “Randi, this is my daughter, Liv, and her friend, Di.”
We exchanged hellos, then Mama nodded to each of the manicurists. “This is Noki and Liz.”
“We only have two manicure stations, so I’m afraid you’ll have to wait for them to finish with your mom and mother-in-law,” Randi said. She was tall and brunette with a cute, short hairstyle that framed her round face.
“Oh, that’s fine,” Di and I said, nearly in unison.
“Can I offer you two a Coke or a bottled water?” Randi said. We declined, explaining we’d just finished lunch.
There was only one other customer in the place, getting her hair cut by another hairdresser. Randi picked up two straight-back chairs from the waiting area and set them opposite Mama and Miss Betty.
After we sat down I told them about the beef tenderloin dinner in the private dining room scheduled for tonight. Mama seemed pleased—and impressed, so I didn’t mention that Jana had arranged everything. It’s not often I have an opportunity to impress my mother by just keeping my mouth shut.
“That sounds wonderful, Liv. And if we have definite plans, that’ll get Earl out the door. He was all wishy-washy about going out for a drink with the guys. But I think that’s what he should do the night before his wedding—as long as they practice moderation.”
Wouldn’t want him to have too much fun.
“Liv, you don’t think they’ll go to some nudie bar, do you?” Mama asked.
Di burst into laughter, but fortunately so did my mother-in-law.
“Can you imagine Wayne McKay walking into a strip club?” Miss Betty said, still trying to get her giggles under control. “His face would turn bright red.”
“So would Earl’s ears,” Mama said, starting to chuckle at the thought.
They apparently didn’t think the sight of strippers would cause Larry Joe to blush, but I tried not to take offense.
Mama got her nails painted a pale lavender shade to go with her wedding dress, which was a rich purple color. The rest of us decided to go with various shades of pink.
We learned that Randi and Crystal were chums, going way back. Unfortunately, that was about all we learned.
Mama plied her southern charm, trying to get Randi to dish any dirt she might have on Crystal. But, while hairdressers generally may not mind sharing a tidbit of juicy gossip, the smart ones know when to keep their mouths shut. Randi was smart.
As we were paying the bill, Mama called Little Junior to come fetch us.
“Mama, do you want to go shopping now, or do you want to go back to the hotel and rest a bit first?”
“I don’t have much time to shop before Earl and I go to the chapel for our wedding rehearsal. But, Little Junior, is there a budget shoe store in this area? I’d like to buy another pair of sensible walking shoes for our trip, but I don’t want to pay a fortune for them at one of the fancy shoe stores at the hotels.”
“Yes, ma’am. There’s an outlet shopping center not far from here. I think they have a couple of shoe stores.”
“Mama, I don’t think I had a chance to tell you last night. Holly called to tell me the restaurant at the hotel has been closed down temporarily by the health department.”
“I always thought George’s Country Kitchen looked like a clean place. Why did it get shut down?”
“Sounded like it was mostly some drain issues, but it will take some time to make repairs and get a re-inspection. It’s a headache for Sindhu and Ravi—and George of course. But it’s a headache for us, too, since it’s where we were scheduled to hold a dinner for a high school reunion this weekend. Holly’s having to scout another location today.”
“I ran into Belinda Mays at the beauty shop a few weeks back and she was telling me some of the things you and Holly were planning for their fiftieth class reunion. I think it’s so clever calling it the Dixie High ’Sixty-Eight Comeback Special and doing it with an Elvis theme during Death Week,” Mama said.
The week of August 16, commemorating Elvis’s death, is called Elvis Week by the organizers, but commonly referred to as Death Week by locals. Hordes of tourists from across the globe descend on Memphis for this annual event, which culminates with the Candlelight Vigil at Graceland.
“When the reunion committee told us the dates they were looking at for the gathering, an Elvis theme immediately sprang to mind,” I said. “And since they are the Class of 1968, it was such a perfect tie-in with Elvis’s television comeback special the year they graduated,” I said.
“I was kind of surprised when she told me they were having a pool party on one of the days. I was three years behind Belinda in school and I can’t imagine our class having a pool party. I wouldn’t put that much of my skin on public display—and who wants to see a bunch of saggy old folks in bathing suits?”
“Nobody has to wear a swimsuit unless they want to, Mama. On Friday night, there will be an outdoor luau—well, not an authentic luau. I couldn’t imagine this group eating raw fish or tarot roots. But they will be digging a pit for a whole hog barbecue and we’ll throw in some side dishes with pineapple and coconut to support the theme. Anyway, Malcolm Tate volunteered to host it at his place—”
“Is he that guy with the Spock ears?” Mama interrupted.
“Spock ears,” Little Junior said, breaking out in giggles.
“I guess his ears are kinda pointy, now that you mention it. Didn’t you know him in school?” I asked, although I knew I shouldn’t encourage her.
“He didn’t go to Dixie High. He married Marilyn Danvers, Class of ’Sixty-Eight. She passed away a couple of years ago, but after fifty years I guess he’s an adopted classmate,” Mama explained.
“Anyway, he has a huge shady yard and a swimming pool near the house. And it is August and hotter than blazes, so we decided to serve fruity cocktails with little umbrellas poolside. People can sw
im if they like. But by including swimwear as an option, it means everyone can feel free to dress as casual as they like. I doubt many people will actually get in the pool, but some of them may want to sit on the edge and dangle their legs in the water to cool off.”
“That sounds reasonable,” Mama said, nodding approvingly.
“And after dark, we’ll have an outdoor viewing of Blue Hawaii on a big screen.”
“Ooh, that’ll be just like going to the drive-in pictures,” Mama said.
“That’s what we hope.”
“And who knows, Spock Ears may find himself a new wife—or at least a girlfriend among Marilyn’s old classmates. That big place with a swimming pool is bound to make him attractive to some of the ladies in that group, pointy ears or not,” Mama said.
It was hard to argue with that logic, so I didn’t.
Chapter Five
Little Junior pulled into a driveway with strip shopping centers on either side. He pointed out the shoe store options and Mama directed him to the one she thought looked most promising. He dropped us at the curb.
I knew from experience that shoe shopping with Mama would inevitably lead to a discussion of bunions and ingrown toenails. I left Miss Betty to enjoy that chat and told them Di and I would be browsing in the discount party store next door.
“Do we need to pick up any supplies here for your mom’s bachelorette party tonight?” Di asked, picking up a coconut bra and waving it in front of her chest.
“No, we’re good. I’m always looking for party and decoration ideas, though. So . . . you never had a chance to tell me about your lunch with Jimmy and his new business enterprise.”
“He and his high-school best friend’s cousin, who’s been living in Vegas for a few years now, are saving up money to start a party photo-booth rental business. They’ll start with one or two for parties, and eventually he’d like to have some in malls or entertainment districts in town. In the meantime, he’s working a lot of hours at the bar and it sounds like he’s making good tips.”