I Can't Make You Love Me, but I Can Make You Leave

by Dixie Cash

  “They’ll be onstage, but I’m the one who does their intro. I’ll introduce them and you ladies after about three songs.”

  “Do we have to say anything?” Debbie Sue asked.

  Edwina suddenly became animated. “Oh, oh, I want to say something.”

  “You can’t. Just a small wave or a smile will do.”

  “Darla, whatever you do, do not let Edwina get the mike,” Debbie Sue said. “The government would have to write a new law stripping her First Amendment rights just to get her off the stage.”

  “Whatever,” Edwina said. “Tell you what. Before we take off for Midland, let’s go over to Hogg’s and eat. I’ll buy.”

  “Super,” Darla exclaimed. “But Edwina, you can’t possibly be hungry.”

  “Yeah, Ed, what are you thinking?” Debbie Sue said.

  “I’m thinking I haven’t eaten since this morning, I’m thinking of a double meat cheeseburger with all the trimmings. Fries or maybe onion rings. One of Aunt P’s apricot fried pies and an ice cold Dr Pepper.”

  “Oh, my,” Darla lamented, “I’m thinking I agree one hundred percent. All of that all sounds too good to pass up.” She pressed her sides, then her stomach with her palms. “Dammit, I bet there’s not enough elastic in the world to hold this shape together after a meal like that.”

  Debbie Sue removed her smock with a flourish, went to the front door, turned the sign hanging in the window from OPEN to CLOSED and declared, “Ed, if you’re buyin’, I’m tryin’.”

  They set off on foot to Hogg’s. Debbie Sue couldn’t help but marvel at the turn in events in a mere forty-eight hours. She had been expecting a slow weekend, with Maudeen in the salon and nothing but free hours to spend with Buddy after that. Now she was walking side by side with a celebrity, readying herself to perform on TV in the evening. Anyone who said there was nothing to do in a small town hadn’t spent enough time in her small town.

  “Say, Edwina,” Darla said, looking across Hogg’s parking lot, “isn’t that your pickup?”

  “Sure is. We must not be the only ones who’re hungry.”

  Debbie Sue held the door open while Darla and Edwina entered Hogg’s before her. They were met with hearty greetings from Valetta Rose and Eddie, and the heartiest of all from Bob.

  A huge grin spread across Darla’s face. “Bob, you scoundrel. I just talked to you. You didn’t tell me you were over here. I thought you were in Midland.”

  “We came back to see how things are going with you. We just sat down. I was just about to call you back.” He moved over to allow for room. “Here, sit by me. We’re starving. I’ve probably got just enough of a balance left on my credit card to buy a round of burgers.” He turned her shoulder away from him. “Hm, love the hair color. That’ll pop on camera. Did the Styling Station girls do that?”

  “Sure did. Edwina is an expert colorist.”

  “What have y’all been up to today?” Debbie Sue asked.

  “Shooting pool,” Bob answered. “Darla, you should see this little lady shoot pool,” he said, gesturing toward Valetta Rose. “She’s as good as that Asian girl we watched in Vegas. Remember that?”

  “Yes, I remember,” Darla said. “Where’s Roxie and Mike?”

  “I left them at the house.”

  “All day long?”

  “Yep.”

  “Good Lord,” Edwina said. “From what I’ve seen of that woman, she’ll be madder than a wet cat. Anybody had the nerve to check on them?”

  “They might be hungry, too, Bob,” Darla said.

  “They’re all right. She called that guy Tatts by Matt to pick them up.”

  “Roxie’s with a tattoo artist?” Valetta Rose asked.

  “When I called her earlier, she and Mike were planning on hanging out with him at his tattoo parlor, then riding to Midland with him.”

  Valetta Rose sat for a minute expressionless, then looked away. Something was going on inside her head, but Debbie Sue couldn’t figure what.

  “Speaking of tattoos,” Edwina said, “look at Darla’s lips.”

  Valetta Rose studied Darla’s lips closely. “You had your lips tattooed?”

  “Edwina did it,” Darla said, faking a smooch. “Aren’t they fabulous?”

  “They really are,” Valetta Rose replied, leaning in for a closer look. “They’re as good as any I’ve ever seen, Edwina.”

  “Thanks,” Edwina gushed. “It’s just a little something I took up. Most women my age are gardening or knitting baby blankets. Or God help me, scrapbooking. I decided to take up tattooing lips and eyelids.”

  “Do you mind telling me about your technique?” Valetta asked.

  While the two women gabbed, Debbie Sue studied the traveling makeup artist. As far as she could tell, Valetta Rose wore no discernable makeup and except for bleach, her hair appeared to be free of hair products. Maybe she was trying for that less-is-more look, which wasn’t for Debbie Sue personally, but it worked for the younger woman. She was attractive in a fresh-scrubbed way.

  Darla stood. “If y’all will excuse me, I’m going to visit the ladies’ room. Y’all order me whatever you’re having. Cheeseburger, fries, the whole works.”

  “Uh, Mrs. Denman,” Valetta Rose said timidly. “You need to be careful eating anything greasy for twenty-four hours. Your pores could absorb some of that oil and smear your lips permanently.”

  Darla delicately touched her newly tattooed lips with her fingertips. “Really? Oh, my God. Edwina, did you know that?”

  “Nope. Looks like we learned it together. It makes sense. And it explains a lot to me.”

  “Like what?” Debbie Sue asked.

  “Well, for one thing, why May Dean Gantt won’t speak to me anymore. I thought she was wearing the wrong color of foundation all this time because it made her lips look like they had spread all over her face. I didn’t know about the oil. I must’ve been late the day they went over that in class. I must’ve missed that lesson.”

  “It’s a wonder she didn’t sue you,” Darla remarked.

  “Or the shop,” Debbie Sue added, alarmed.

  “It’s a wonder she didn’t kill me,” Edwina said. “You don’t know May Dean and her husband.”

  “Hmm, y’all just order me a glass of iced tea,” Darla said. “That will be the best. I can put Plan B into operation if I don’t overeat.”

  “Plan B?” Bob asked.

  “Walmart and body armor,” Debbie Sue answered. “We’re going to stop off there on our way to the civic center.”

  “They have Spanx at Walmart?” Valetta Rose asked.

  “Maybe Kymaro or Lipo in a Box,” Edwina said. “I’m sure they’ll have one or the other.”

  “See there,” Bob said to Eddie. “I’ve always known women had a secret language and this proves it. I didn’t understand a damn word they just said.”

  Eddie, who Debbie Sue had never heard utter a word, suddenly spoke. “Me neither, boss, but if somebody’s getting spanked at Walmart, I wouldn’t mind seeing that. In fact, I think I could sell tickets.”

  The group was laughing when Valetta Rose’s phone warbled. Without looking, she flipped open the cover and pressed the device to her ear. Though Debbie Sue couldn’t hear the caller, she could see that Valetta Rose’s mood changed instantly.

  “Just hanging out,” she said into the phone. “No, we weren’t laughing at you. Why would you even think that?”

  Roxie. Had to be Roxie, Debbie Sue thought. For the first time she felt sorry for Valetta Rose. Valetta Rose closed the phone. As she returned it to her pocket, she stared intently at her menu.

  Debbie Sue watched the color in Bob’s face slowly rise to a reddish hue but before he could speak, Valetta Rose’s phone warbled again.

  “Is that Roxie?” Bob asked sharply. Debbie Sue had never heard him use such a demanding tone. He had been the consummate gentleman the past couple of days and clearly this phone business was pushing him to another side.

  “Is that Roxie?” he asked again.


  “Yeah,” Valetta Rose answered dully.

  “Give it to me,” Bob ordered, his hand extended to accept the phone. He pressed it to his ear and listened. “We’re having a meal,” he said. “When we’re finished we’ll head for Midland, and . . . Well, no . . . No, not before . . . Oh yeah? Well, back at ya, sweetheart. I’ll see you dead too.”

  Bob returned the phone to the young woman. “Sorry y’all heard that. I apologize for the disruption.”

  “What disruption?” Darla asked, returning to the table.

  “Roxie,” Edwina answered. “And I’d say her place is going to be six feet under if that phone rings again, am I right, Bob?”

  “Shut up, Ed,” Debbie Sue said.

  Bob didn’t answer.

  Chapter Sixteen

  After everyone had eaten, the group divided into two—Bob, Valetta Rose and Eddie piled into Vic’s pickup and headed for Midland. Debbie Sue had left home this morning carrying her black dress and red shoes in a big leather shoulder bag that showed a ProRodeo logo. Now she drove Edwina by her mobile home to grab her dress and shoes. Edwina came out with a suitcase the size of a carry-on flight bag and placed it in the pickup bed.

  “What is all of that?” Debbie Sue asked. “I mean how much room does a simple dress and a pair of shoes need?”

  “It’s my makeup, girlfriend. You know I’d never make an appearance onstage without my makeup. I brought several types to make sure I’ve got the right stuff.”

  “I should have known,” Debbie Sue said, now on the way to the house for Darla to pick up her makeup and her costume for tonight’s performance.

  As soon as they were on the road, butterflies hit Debbie Sue again. Her hands began sweating on the steering wheel. “Oh, God, Ed, here we go. We’re really gonna do this.”

  “It’s what we said we’d do. Don’t think about it.”

  “You’ll be great,” Darla added.

  “Just keep thinking that this time tomorrow it’ll all be over and our lives will be back to normal,” Edwina said.

  “I don’t know if anyone would call our lives normal, but this time tomorrow it’ll certainly all be over,” Debbie Sue replied.

  It’ll be just like riding Rocket Man into the arena for a barrel race, she told herself. I’ll just smile and do my part and all eyes will be on Rocket Man, or uh . . . um . . . Darla. All eyes will be on Darla Denman. She’s the star.

  Debbie Sue repeated this mantra until the Odessa Walmart parking lot came into view.

  “Okay, I don’t want to get recognized in here,” Darla said. “If I got trapped doing autographs or something and wound up being late getting to Midland, they’d have to go on without me.”

  “No problem,” Edwina told her and fished a huge pair of rhinestone-encrusted sunglasses with black lenses from her monstrous purse. “Put these on. If anybody says anything, I’ll tell them you’re my sister from Big Spring. She’s in management. Once they hear that, they won’t bother us.”

  Debbie Sue parked and they ambled into the store, found the sought-after garment and purchased it. Everyone stared at Darla with those I-know-you-from-somewhere glances, but no one approached her. And soon they were headed for Midland again.

  The enormous civic-center parking lot that had been virtually empty during rehearsals now looked like an ocean of cars and trucks. Debbie Sue had forgotten the coliseum’s seating capacity, but seeing that there were no parking spaces left wasn’t difficult.

  “Debbie Sue,” Edwina screeched, “you missed the turn in. Stop!”

  Debbie Sue slammed on the brakes and pulled to the curb.

  “Back up and turn in,” Edwina said. “Damn, girlfriend.”

  “Debbie Sue, are you going to be all right?” Darla asked. “If this is really bothering you this much, I can do it with one person. I really can. Just say the word. Now’s the time.”

  “Yeah, hon, don’t make yourself sick,” Edwina said in a sympathetic tone. “Nothing’s worth tossing your cookies over.”

  “I’m fine, just fine. I’m a little shook up, but I’m fine.”

  Debbie Sue backed up and turned into the parking lot, only to find herself behind Vic’s pickup carrying the rest of Darla’s entourage and their instruments. She followed them toward the secure area in back of the arena, presented her pass to the guard at the gate and found a parking spot. Darla had brought her makeup and garb for the show in a large rolling suitcase. Debbie Sue and Edwina helped her lift it out of the pickup bed. Edwina’s suitcase came next. Finally, Debbie hooked her own bag on her shoulder and they set out for the auditorium.

  This time they entered the civic center from the back, behind the stage area. Everyone suddenly seemed to be going off in different directions. Eddie struck up a conversation with another group that was entering the building at the same time. Bob went left and Debbie Sue assumed Valetta Rose, veering to the right at a jog, was going to the dressing rooms or the restrooms.

  The hustle and bustle stirred a memory within Debbie Sue of her rodeo days and waiting behind the chutes to hear her and Rocket Man’s names called. An unexpected calm began to steal through her. Just like dozens of times before her ride in the arena, she began to inwardly focus on the job she had to do, shutting out all negative influences. Maybe this evening wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

  “Where in the hell are Roxie and Mike?” Darla asked Eddie. “Have you seen or talked to either one of them?”

  “Mike should be setting up his drums. I’ll go check,” Eddie said, and then he was gone.

  “Y’all come with me to my dressing room,” Darla said to Debbie Sue and Edwina. “You can change in there. It’s a lot bigger than the space they cleared out for Roxie.”

  Leading the way, Darla looked back over her shoulder. “Debbie Sue, you okay?”

  Debbie Sue could hear the emcee talking to the audience and the crowd’s laughter. “I’m fine. I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

  In a matter of minutes the women were in Darla’s dressing room, changing clothes. Debbie Sue and Edwina had little to do. A plain black dress was a plain black dress. Debbie Sue’s shoes were plain red pumps and Edwina’s were the Jimmy Choos she had been wearing when she and Debbie Sue had run from a bad guy through Central Park in New York City.

  Darla, on the other hand, glittered from head to toe. She had on black western-style slacks, sleek black patent leather cowboy boots and a white leather western-cut jacket. Lord, it had foot-long fringe, silver and gold embroidered roses, all accented with spangles and rhinestones. The contrast with the shiny copper color Edwina had put on her hair was stunning and the body-sculpting device was doing its job.

  “Hmm-hmm,” Edwina said to her. “You look prettier than a new puppy. Fabulous jacket.”

  “Thank you, Edwina. I had it made several years ago in Nashville. Back when I still had some money.”

  “I’m guessing you spent a sizeable chunk of whatever you had on that jacket,” Debbie Sue said.

  “I’m embarrassed to say how much,” Darla replied, “especially given my present circumstances.”

  Debbie Sue thought they had finished with time to spare, but before she could believe it and before she was ready, a rap sounded on the door and a voice called from the other side. “Ten minutes, Miz Denman.”

  “You ladies need to go on out,” Darla said. “I’ll stop by Roxie’s dressing room and make sure she’s ready. Mike and Eddie will be onstage with you. I don’t come out for a few more minutes, after Roxie sings.” Taking Debbie Sue’s hands, she said, “Now, remember the drill. Bob will be first. Then I’ll come out and say hello and introduce Roxie. Then she sings. One song.”

  “I remember,” Debbie Sue said with more confidence than she felt. “While she’s singing we sit in a couple of chairs they’ve put behind the mikes and when you come onstage we stand up.”

  “That’s right. You just sit and enjoy the show from a really good seat.” She turned to Edwina. “How are you, Edwina?”

  �
�Me? Oh, hell, I’m fine. We’ll both be fine,” she added, grabbing Debbie Sue by the arm and urging her toward the door. “You knock ’em dead or break a leg or whatever you show-biz people say.”

  Darla smiled. “Thanks. I will.”

  A deafening thunder came from the stage and Debbie Sue assessed that the cloggers were finishing up their number.

  “This is really cool, isn’t it?” she yelled in Edwina’s direction.

  The dancers made their exit. Stagehands immediately began moving props to the stage, including the two microphones for her and Edwina and the two chairs they would sit in while Roxie sang. Mike positioned and repositioned his drum set and Eddie set his guitar on a stand, then took a seat at the keyboard, his back to them. Debbie Sue found herself wondering just how many instruments he played.

  Bob appeared, with a broad grin plastered across his face. “Well, kids, this is it. Y’all go ahead and get in your spots and in about one minute the curtain rises and we’ll get rolling.”

  Debbie Sue felt an adrenaline surge, familiar from the days when she competed in barrel racing. Anticipation and eagerness replaced nervousness and terror and she entered another realm. She was sitting astride Rocket Man. She had a tight grip on his reins. The horse was prancing and straining to go, waiting for the signal. Only the costume was different. Hell, she was so fired up she could have done the entire telethon solo. Teetering on her high heels, she started for the stage. “Come on, Ed. Let’s make Salt Lick proud.”

  A hand grabbed her arm and spun her around. Edwina was white as a sheet. “I can’t do it,” she said in a tremulous voice. She had a death grip on Debbie Sue’s arm with one hand and the velvet stage curtain with the other. “I think I’m gonna pass out.”

  “What? Dammit, you can’t pass out, Edwina Perkins-Martin. You’re the one who talked me into this.”

  “I know, I know. But do you want to see me sprawled on the floor?”

  “Ed, are you that nervous? Why didn’t you tell me you got stage fright?”

  “Hell, I didn’t know it until now, Debbie Sue. Me, of all people.” She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. “God almighty, it’s hot in here. Darla’s gonna hate me. What will I say to her? What’ll I do? Tell her I’m sorry. Now I gotta—”