She stepped back inside, clutching the now opened manila envelopes to what little space was left between her belly and her breasts. She leaned against the wall and took several deep breaths. She had to get back in control.
Clare knew that was all she had left. She was in a place, a space and a time that she didn’t care to be. She could fix this. She knew she could. Gathering herself, she waddled with fury to her bedroom amazed at just how far going absolutely nowhere really was.
She stopped a moment and peered into the nursery. Two cribs, two mobiles, two of absolutely everything; why wasn’t it enough? She had overheard their conversation, and Ian was right, there was so much anger still and what she held in her hands burned her to the core.
Quietly, she shut to door to her room, locked it and eased herself to sit down on the bed. The envelopes splayed across the expensive spread. She tapped her fingers on the manila.
It was all there. There were a few loose ends, but putting this information along with what she’d found and added could very well end this in less than a couple of hours. She was smart enough to know that it was enough to bring it all to an abrupt conclusion, but just as much would be left dangling in the wind with answers to questions never to be found.
Her cell phone rang. Swinging her legs to the floor she reached to the desktop and grabbed it.
“Unknown. Blocked number.”
Clare took a deep breath. “Timing, Clare. It’s all in the timing.” Before she flipped the lid she murmured to herself, “Let’s get this done.”
“Hello, Bruno.”
“Clare?” He seemed shocked. “How did you know it was me?”
“You’re the only one who ever calls me.”
“Awww and I’m so sorry it’s been such a long since we talked, but I thought you might need a little privacy.”
“Of course.”
“But you know I thought about you every day.”
“That’s sweet.”
“And?” He seemed to wait for her to jump right in. “How are things going?”
“What? Haven’t you heard the news?”
“Well, I did catch a few things on the tube and heard a few tidbits around the office, but you know me, I never believe anything until I hear it from you.”
“It’s twins; boys, two little boys. Due any day now.”
“Good for you.” Clare could almost see the glee on the man’s face she had never seen, and could almost write down word for word what he was going to say next. “With twins, you’ll have absolutely no problem milking that bastard for every penny he’s got and then some.”
“I’m sure…” Clare looked down at the swollen ankles swinging surprisingly relaxed but not quite touching the floor. “Bruno, I should tell you, a few things have changed.”
“Of course.” His voice became very reassuring. “I know you’ve been working hard to make everyone think you’ve made amends, but I know that's all an act. Now, what’s changed, dear, and how can I help?”
She smiled. “Good. I knew you’d be on board. First of all, stop treating me like I’m an idiot.”
“Oh, Clare, the last thing I’ve ever thought was that you were an…”
“Bruno…” She cut him off. “Shut up.”
“Excuse me?”
“Which word didn’t you understand? Shut or up?”
“Now see here young lady...”
“No, Bruno, you see here. Let’s just cut to the chase, shall we?” Clare looked to make sure she’d locked the door to her room.
“By all means.” The civil tone had all but drained from his voice.
“I know what you’ve been doing, I know how you’ve been doing it and most important of all I know exactly who you are.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“I’m sure you don’t.” Clare dumped the contents of all three envelopes on her bed and spread them out. “Let me fill you in for a change.”
“By all means.”
“Do the names Blue, Peyton and Ella mean anything to you?”
Clare heard Bruno suppress a gulp. “No, but I suppose you are going to tell me why they should.”
“Ya screwed up Bruno, or do you want me to use your real name? I know what that is, too. The guys were dumb, but even you should know by now to never ever mess with a woman.”
“I did not…”
“By the way, loved your DVD. I’d never seen a gay sex tape before. Interesting, and you really should have that mole on your butt removed. It looks like the ones that cause cancer.”
“DVD?”
“Oh come on, Bruno. You knew Blue was filming your little sessions, at least eventually. That’s why you killed him and thanks to Balouche they’re still only guessing the bullet that killed him came from your gun and not Kellen’s. Or did Peyton switch guns that night and hide in the bushes? I’m still guessing at that one myself.”
“You little…”
“Ah ah ah…temper. We’re just getting started. I haven’t even told you how you really screwed up yet.”
“I did not screw up.”
“Ella…you should have gotten to her first, Bruno. She’s the one who put it all together. Never mess with a woman. Guess why? She was undercover F.B.I.”
There was dead silence on the phone.
“Cat got your tongue?”
Laughing, the son of a bitch was laughing. “Okay, Clare. I admit that’s news, but Clare dear. I got it all. She’d stuffed it in her purse. I beat her senseless then went back and got it, just before I stomped her brains out. Gee, I wonder whose next…bitch.”
“Got it all, did’ja?” Clare knew this next reminder would wipe the grin right off his face. “Then how did I see your little DVD? Why do I have a handful of various IDs with different names but the same three faces? And just how do I have in my hot little bitch hands a copy of Ella’s hard drive?”
“Hard drive?”
“Recordings of conversations, copies of documents, handwriting samples…oooh she was thorough.”
“How did…?”
“Not sure, but somehow dear sweet stomped to death Ella managed to slip a few things in the mail and get a message to her partner in the F.B.I. that it was coming. Fortunately for you, all he got was the message. I managed to get the mail.”
“I see…and?”
“And?” Clare kicked her feet with nervous glee. “Oh and, did you by any chance see that weird cryptic message she scrawled on the wall in her own blood? Did she do that before or after you got all the evidence she gathered and stomped her brains out?”
“Before, but it doesn’t mean anything.”
“It doesn’t unless you read everything the postman delivered, oh…and a few things I managed to find myself.”
“You found?”
“Bruno, dear, sweet idiot Bruno. I’ve been doing a little digging on my own...during my private time It seems that Elizabeth Elysian has been playing her own games. When she sold Ian this house, it’s fabulous by the way, she also used a codicil, a perfectly legal one, that people use to side step inheritance taxes, and sold Ian everything.”
“Everything?”
“And I mean everything; stocks, bonds, rental properties, businesses. Ian will rake in around a million or so alone this year just off the stocks. It’s the rental properties I’m helping him with. I used to work with my Daddy. He was a banker. I know a little about that stuff. Hell, Bruno, I know a lot about that stuff.”
“Why the hell would she…?”
“Who the hell cares? Anyway, I’m also helping Kellen with his business. He sleeps during the day and misses a lot of phone calls. So I keep things straight for him. Actually I could care less, but it gives me an excuse to be in his house, so I can prowl around and see what kind of info they have…on you.”
“On me?”
“Oh yeah. They’re closing in, Bruno boy. Almost got’cha, lucky for me, maybe even you, that I’m always there when that little fax machine of his spits out cases that may or may not be connected. Imagine my surprise when a couple of names and places made even my jaw drop.” She fingered a few faxes on her bedspread.
“Of course, without those, they’ll never be able to make any kind of connection. Talk about screwing up, but then you were just getting started. You never should have used Ian’s mother’s name and social security number.”
“Lylah?” Clare could hear Bruno sputtering. “I…uh…”
“All this time, we wondered why all this vengeful shit focused on Ian. They have their theory, and it’s a good one but it’s not possible. Then again, they don’t know the real reason, even I’m not sure of that but I know the connection, without a doubt I know the connection.”
“You do, do you?”
“Oh it took me a day or two wondering, how the hell did he get Ian’s mother’s social security number? In fact that’s exactly what I was thinking when that last fax came in, and bingo…you would have to have gotten it at a bank, a bank where she had an account…my Daddy’s bank. You remember my Daddy?”
“No comment.”
Clare laughed quietly. “Already proven guilty. No need to plead the fifth.” She slipped out of the pile a copy she’d made from a yearbook with one finger. “Then I just got Jude in one of his ‘let’s tell stories about Ian’s horrendous childhood’ moods and it all fell into place.”
“It did, did it?” She could almost hear the man’s brain trying to plan a way out.
“You know I never would have recognized you. When the time comes, I need the name of your plastic surgeon. Or are they all dead, too?”
“What do you want Clare?”
She smiled. Now he was talking. “Let me make something very clear, Bruno, right now I’m the only one with any of this information, and no one can get at it but me.”
“What if I don’t believe you?”
“I don’t see that you have much of a choice. Do you?” There was a silent huff on the phone line. “I know this is so bad HRT mystery cliché, but I’ve seen to it that if anything happens to me or my children, or I even think something’s going to happen to me or my children all this info gets put directly into the right hands before you have time to run, and I’m talking the guy sitting in the desk right beside you.”
“And what if something happens to your precious Ian, dear?”
“Anything happens to Ian, I get control of two thirds of everything for at least eighteen years or so. You think I really give a shit any more?”
“Let me repeat myself, what do you want?”
“Six million dollars, for starters. In my bank account by 9 A.M. tomorrow morning.”
“I can’t possibly do that.”
“Yes you can, or…I can do it myself. My Daddy and I were close, real close. He taught me how to do things like that, just like he taught you.”
“You’d have to have account numbers and…” He fell silent.
Clare smiled. She had him. That last part was a lie, but he didn’t know that and she was finally in total control again. “Did I tell you my babies are going to be little boys? I was thinking Howard was a good name. What do you think…bitch?”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Six million; 9 sharp and then you disappear, but not too far. I’m sure I’ll need more money before too long. Raising twins is expensive, and so am I.”
“You’re gonna let me just disappear?”
“Oh you can’t disappear from me, Bruno. Remember, my Daddy taught me everything he taught you, and I was his precious little girl. I’m sure I know even more. You can run, but you can’t ever hide…not from me anyway.”
Friday, June 24, 2011
Vignette #220: Lightning Bugs
He was sitting on the chaise, Ralphie in his lap, stroking the dog’s mane and staring off into the distance. She watched just a moment. Ian Justyn lost in thought was a sight to behold.
She had known him long enough to pick up little things. Like the way he tilted his head almost undetectably to the right if the thought wasn’t quite connecting. Then there was what she called the stroke. He’d fold his index finger down and rub the second knuckle slowly back and forth across his bottom lip when he couldn’t focus on one thought.
Tonight, tonight was the hard one. His hands were methodically repeating a gesture, in this case stroking the dog’s coat hand over hand, his face was totally blank and his focus focused unfocused on something in the darkening sky. She feared that someday he’d get lost in that thought and never, ever come back.
She had to be gentle. More than once she had startled him from his thought trance and he’d broke out into a sweat that seemed painful. She made sure he heard her coming. She’d learned to always make sure he knew that you were coming.
“Baby Doll.” She smiled quietly and rubbed her fingers on his cheek.
It took just a barely noticeable moment, but he came back from where ever he was, not turning his head but moving his eyes to take her in. He smiled. “I thought you’d be in bed by now.”
Tippy made a sound to communicate otherwise. “May I sit with you?”
He nodded his head and smiled down at Ralphie, in heaven at the attention and the human touch. His tail beat quietly on the staccato of the patio. His chin pressed so tightly into Ian’s lap it almost became part of his skin.
She pulled a second armless chaise until it touched the one Ian was sprawled across and sat down putting her feet up after a long, long day. The only sound exchanged between them was silence, but it said absolutely everything that needed to be said. Tippy reached over to touch his face. He leaned forward a bit and rubbed his cheek tenderly against her fingers.
She knew that meant good, well almost good. They listened to the loud silence of California nature a moment. It was defining. From the corner of her eye she saw him move. Without ever taking her eye from the point out into space she was looking at, she slipped her arm around him as he leaned over and put his head on her shoulder. She didn’t squeeze. She didn’t rub. She just took him in.
She felt the tension in his body. She could feel the fire in his mind trying to get out, and his heart beating so fast it made the temperature outdoors even muggier. She gently lay her cheek on the top of that black, black hair.
“You know once before I left Mountain City, I sat out on our back porch, or I guess I should say the back part of our wrap around porch about this time of day. It was always my favorite time of day and time of year back home. Just about now, when you suddenly realize the light of that day was done for but the dark hadn’t quite taken over, the mountain would start to twinkle.”
“Twinkle?”
“Mmm hmmm, lighnin’ bugs; just millions of ‘em all over Forge Mountain. It always took my breath away. My Granny used to say it made her sad, but it just made my heart soar. Just think a tiny little bug just bein’ a bug and still getting’ someone to notice him from so far away.”
Tippy felt him smile and cuddle closer into her shoulder. “I always thought that’s how God sees us, us just bein’ one of millions of bugs each with our own special twinkle lightin’ up a tiny little portion of the mountain.”
“I used to catch ‘em and put them in a jar on my window sill. They’d either crawl out of the holes I made in the top or be laying on their back dead as door nails by morning. I always set the ones that lived free.”
“I think we all did that.” Tippy smiled. “Except m’ sister Jeannie. She’d catch ‘em, and rip their little buts off and smear ‘em on her finger until she had this nasty glowy little ring.”
Ian sat up a bit and looked at her. “Are you still close to your sister?”
“I wish.” Tippy sighed. “She really hasn’t spoken to me since I won Miss Johnson County. I beat her.”
“You were both in the same pageant?” Ian smirked. “That wasn’t smart.”
“Well, I knew that, but they only had five girls and for some reason they needed one more or it wouldn’t be official or something. I was barely old enough and Jeannie insisted.”
“Was she at last first runner up?”
“Came in next to last. Still it was my fault. Maybe it was. I always thought she was much prettier than me, and a much better singer but I guess the judges just couldn’t get past the fact that her personality read “Bitch” from fifty paces.”
“Anyone other siblings?”
“Just me and Jeannie. Daddy died when I was in high school and Mama passed away a few years ago.”
“You never hear from her?”
“Only when she wanted money from that day on. You know, I put all five of her kids through college and not one has even bothered to send a thank you note. We offered to fly ‘em all out here for every holiday and several times for just no reason at all, but they don’t want to be tainted I guess. Jeannie’s husband is a Holy Roller Preacher.”
“He’s gonna love “Quarters”.” Ian chuckled quietly.
“Ya know, that doesn’t matter, that movie is gonna shock a lot of people, but I also think it’s gonna open the eyes for a lot of people to a problem not many even know exist.”
“Good to know. Remind me of that when Westboro Baptist Church protests my kid’s birthday parties.”
“By the way, thank you.”
Ian sat up and looked Tippy in the eyes. “For what?”
She smiled and finally caressed his shoulder. “For m’job and for my little role in ‘Quarters’. Baby Doll, I know that sometimes it’s hard for you to understand the reason behind all the awful things that have happened, but for all the nasty you keep just dropping bucket loads of wow on people, an’ me and Colton, and we’re just two that are oh so greatful.”
Ian eased back to his place on her shoulder and Tippy settled back to just enjoy another moment or two with a young man who just needed a mother’s love. “Have you talked to Saxon lately?”
“She’s filming tonight, tougher on Jeremy and Trampus but I can tell it’s putting them all through the ringer. God, they are brilliant. I’ve just seen dailies and rushes, but Tippy I don’t think they even understand how incredible they are. I’ve even caught Mr. Turner sitting in his office in tears.”
“Aw, he’s just an’ old softie.”
“When I ask him if he wants to talk about it, he just pretends like he has something in his eye and says “It’s the way it should be” then quickly changes the subject.”
“Hmmm…who does he remind me of?” Tippy mused to herself. “Now, I hate to be a grandmother, I cannot believe I’m admitting that out loud, but have you made any headway on setting up the nursery? This isn’t like the old days and you can just clean out a drawer to tuck ‘em in.”
“Actually, we’ve set tomorrow aside to look at the house plans and get started.” Ian stopped her before she could throw her ‘but’ in. “Until then, we’ve set up the cribs and the temporary nursery in the room between Ronnie and Clare. Obviously our boys are going to be born before we have a chance to finish the renovations, so that room seemed like the obvious choice.”
“Are you getting a little excited?”
“I’m still trying.” Tippy felt the tension come back into his body. “Just once, I’d like to be happy about becoming a father from the get go.”
“You weren’t happy about Ronnie?”
“To be honest, Taylor hid the fact she was pregnant for so long by the time I had no choice but get past my own stupidity all I could do was be terrified. Tippy, I was working four part time jobs and going to school and still couldn’t afford a place to live. She was living with Jude and I saw her so rarely I’m still shocked were alone long enough to get pregnant.”
“Well, babies aren’t known for always being convenient. Maybe next time, you’ll be a little more prepared.”
“I’m trying so hard, Tippy. I really am. There’s just still so much anger and mistrust with these twins. I’m not pointing fingers here, I’m just as angry at myself as I am at Clare. I think even Clare is apprehensive. Maybe when the little buggers finally pop out, we can all relax and just enjoy it.”
Tippy laughed. “Relaxing, yeah that’s exactly what happens with newborns.”
“Okay, okay…I got one son, and in many, many ways I’m still about to be a first time father, but I hope you understand what I mean.”
“You are going to take a paternity leave, aren’t you? Even just a small one?”
“That hadn’t occurred to me.” Ian started to sit up and then put his head back down on Tippy’s shoulder. “Nah. I can do this. Things won’t really heat up at the office until the end of August. It’ll be fine.”
“I don’know Baby Doll. Once you get a look at those sweet little babies, you may not want to even think about going into work for a while. Have you talked about names yet?”
“Ronnie’s partial to Spot and Fluffy, but that’s about it. I guess where kind of waiting until they’re born to decide…you know, to see which one looks like a Spot and which one looks like a Fluffy.”
“Good plan.” Tippy bit her lip. “Does Clare have any thoughts on that subject?”
“Not sure, but there shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Of course not. Realizing she was pregnant and getting to a doctor, getting around to telling the father and deciding on where to put the nursery were all a snap, picking a couple of names after giving birth to twins will be a walk in the park for her.”
“I know this isn’t going to be easy, Tippy, but I think the hard part is behind us, at least the hard part for Clare and I. The movie has about two weeks before we hit post-production. The fall season is solid and we’ve already got back up plans and we’re laying groundwork for next year. All is good.”
“Way to go Superman.”
“Now if we can just figure out that little annoying bit about someone trying to kill me, all will be well.”
“Baby Doll, you know everybody loves Superman, especially me, but I love Ian Justyn most of all. I’m hoping I get to see more of him real soon.”
“Me, too, Mamie Rae. Me, too.” Ian’s eyes darted to that far away place Tippy feared he’ll never come back from. “If I can just figure out who that is.”
“Everybody else knows, Baby Doll. Just trust us, and we’ll show you.”
Tippy rubbed Ian’s hair and he sighed, content and happy, if only for an instant that he was in fact, at this moment in time, where he was needed and where he wanted to be the most.
She had known him long enough to pick up little things. Like the way he tilted his head almost undetectably to the right if the thought wasn’t quite connecting. Then there was what she called the stroke. He’d fold his index finger down and rub the second knuckle slowly back and forth across his bottom lip when he couldn’t focus on one thought.
Tonight, tonight was the hard one. His hands were methodically repeating a gesture, in this case stroking the dog’s coat hand over hand, his face was totally blank and his focus focused unfocused on something in the darkening sky. She feared that someday he’d get lost in that thought and never, ever come back.
She had to be gentle. More than once she had startled him from his thought trance and he’d broke out into a sweat that seemed painful. She made sure he heard her coming. She’d learned to always make sure he knew that you were coming.
“Baby Doll.” She smiled quietly and rubbed her fingers on his cheek.
It took just a barely noticeable moment, but he came back from where ever he was, not turning his head but moving his eyes to take her in. He smiled. “I thought you’d be in bed by now.”
Tippy made a sound to communicate otherwise. “May I sit with you?”
He nodded his head and smiled down at Ralphie, in heaven at the attention and the human touch. His tail beat quietly on the staccato of the patio. His chin pressed so tightly into Ian’s lap it almost became part of his skin.
She pulled a second armless chaise until it touched the one Ian was sprawled across and sat down putting her feet up after a long, long day. The only sound exchanged between them was silence, but it said absolutely everything that needed to be said. Tippy reached over to touch his face. He leaned forward a bit and rubbed his cheek tenderly against her fingers.
She knew that meant good, well almost good. They listened to the loud silence of California nature a moment. It was defining. From the corner of her eye she saw him move. Without ever taking her eye from the point out into space she was looking at, she slipped her arm around him as he leaned over and put his head on her shoulder. She didn’t squeeze. She didn’t rub. She just took him in.
She felt the tension in his body. She could feel the fire in his mind trying to get out, and his heart beating so fast it made the temperature outdoors even muggier. She gently lay her cheek on the top of that black, black hair.
“You know once before I left Mountain City, I sat out on our back porch, or I guess I should say the back part of our wrap around porch about this time of day. It was always my favorite time of day and time of year back home. Just about now, when you suddenly realize the light of that day was done for but the dark hadn’t quite taken over, the mountain would start to twinkle.”
“Twinkle?”
“Mmm hmmm, lighnin’ bugs; just millions of ‘em all over Forge Mountain. It always took my breath away. My Granny used to say it made her sad, but it just made my heart soar. Just think a tiny little bug just bein’ a bug and still getting’ someone to notice him from so far away.”
Tippy felt him smile and cuddle closer into her shoulder. “I always thought that’s how God sees us, us just bein’ one of millions of bugs each with our own special twinkle lightin’ up a tiny little portion of the mountain.”
“I used to catch ‘em and put them in a jar on my window sill. They’d either crawl out of the holes I made in the top or be laying on their back dead as door nails by morning. I always set the ones that lived free.”
“I think we all did that.” Tippy smiled. “Except m’ sister Jeannie. She’d catch ‘em, and rip their little buts off and smear ‘em on her finger until she had this nasty glowy little ring.”
Ian sat up a bit and looked at her. “Are you still close to your sister?”
“I wish.” Tippy sighed. “She really hasn’t spoken to me since I won Miss Johnson County. I beat her.”
“You were both in the same pageant?” Ian smirked. “That wasn’t smart.”
“Well, I knew that, but they only had five girls and for some reason they needed one more or it wouldn’t be official or something. I was barely old enough and Jeannie insisted.”
“Was she at last first runner up?”
“Came in next to last. Still it was my fault. Maybe it was. I always thought she was much prettier than me, and a much better singer but I guess the judges just couldn’t get past the fact that her personality read “Bitch” from fifty paces.”
“Anyone other siblings?”
“Just me and Jeannie. Daddy died when I was in high school and Mama passed away a few years ago.”
“You never hear from her?”
“Only when she wanted money from that day on. You know, I put all five of her kids through college and not one has even bothered to send a thank you note. We offered to fly ‘em all out here for every holiday and several times for just no reason at all, but they don’t want to be tainted I guess. Jeannie’s husband is a Holy Roller Preacher.”
“He’s gonna love “Quarters”.” Ian chuckled quietly.
“Ya know, that doesn’t matter, that movie is gonna shock a lot of people, but I also think it’s gonna open the eyes for a lot of people to a problem not many even know exist.”
“Good to know. Remind me of that when Westboro Baptist Church protests my kid’s birthday parties.”
“By the way, thank you.”
Ian sat up and looked Tippy in the eyes. “For what?”
She smiled and finally caressed his shoulder. “For m’job and for my little role in ‘Quarters’. Baby Doll, I know that sometimes it’s hard for you to understand the reason behind all the awful things that have happened, but for all the nasty you keep just dropping bucket loads of wow on people, an’ me and Colton, and we’re just two that are oh so greatful.”
Ian eased back to his place on her shoulder and Tippy settled back to just enjoy another moment or two with a young man who just needed a mother’s love. “Have you talked to Saxon lately?”
“She’s filming tonight, tougher on Jeremy and Trampus but I can tell it’s putting them all through the ringer. God, they are brilliant. I’ve just seen dailies and rushes, but Tippy I don’t think they even understand how incredible they are. I’ve even caught Mr. Turner sitting in his office in tears.”
“Aw, he’s just an’ old softie.”
“When I ask him if he wants to talk about it, he just pretends like he has something in his eye and says “It’s the way it should be” then quickly changes the subject.”
“Hmmm…who does he remind me of?” Tippy mused to herself. “Now, I hate to be a grandmother, I cannot believe I’m admitting that out loud, but have you made any headway on setting up the nursery? This isn’t like the old days and you can just clean out a drawer to tuck ‘em in.”
“Actually, we’ve set tomorrow aside to look at the house plans and get started.” Ian stopped her before she could throw her ‘but’ in. “Until then, we’ve set up the cribs and the temporary nursery in the room between Ronnie and Clare. Obviously our boys are going to be born before we have a chance to finish the renovations, so that room seemed like the obvious choice.”
“Are you getting a little excited?”
“I’m still trying.” Tippy felt the tension come back into his body. “Just once, I’d like to be happy about becoming a father from the get go.”
“You weren’t happy about Ronnie?”
“To be honest, Taylor hid the fact she was pregnant for so long by the time I had no choice but get past my own stupidity all I could do was be terrified. Tippy, I was working four part time jobs and going to school and still couldn’t afford a place to live. She was living with Jude and I saw her so rarely I’m still shocked were alone long enough to get pregnant.”
“Well, babies aren’t known for always being convenient. Maybe next time, you’ll be a little more prepared.”
“I’m trying so hard, Tippy. I really am. There’s just still so much anger and mistrust with these twins. I’m not pointing fingers here, I’m just as angry at myself as I am at Clare. I think even Clare is apprehensive. Maybe when the little buggers finally pop out, we can all relax and just enjoy it.”
Tippy laughed. “Relaxing, yeah that’s exactly what happens with newborns.”
“Okay, okay…I got one son, and in many, many ways I’m still about to be a first time father, but I hope you understand what I mean.”
“You are going to take a paternity leave, aren’t you? Even just a small one?”
“That hadn’t occurred to me.” Ian started to sit up and then put his head back down on Tippy’s shoulder. “Nah. I can do this. Things won’t really heat up at the office until the end of August. It’ll be fine.”
“I don’know Baby Doll. Once you get a look at those sweet little babies, you may not want to even think about going into work for a while. Have you talked about names yet?”
“Ronnie’s partial to Spot and Fluffy, but that’s about it. I guess where kind of waiting until they’re born to decide…you know, to see which one looks like a Spot and which one looks like a Fluffy.”
“Good plan.” Tippy bit her lip. “Does Clare have any thoughts on that subject?”
“Not sure, but there shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Of course not. Realizing she was pregnant and getting to a doctor, getting around to telling the father and deciding on where to put the nursery were all a snap, picking a couple of names after giving birth to twins will be a walk in the park for her.”
“I know this isn’t going to be easy, Tippy, but I think the hard part is behind us, at least the hard part for Clare and I. The movie has about two weeks before we hit post-production. The fall season is solid and we’ve already got back up plans and we’re laying groundwork for next year. All is good.”
“Way to go Superman.”
“Now if we can just figure out that little annoying bit about someone trying to kill me, all will be well.”
“Baby Doll, you know everybody loves Superman, especially me, but I love Ian Justyn most of all. I’m hoping I get to see more of him real soon.”
“Me, too, Mamie Rae. Me, too.” Ian’s eyes darted to that far away place Tippy feared he’ll never come back from. “If I can just figure out who that is.”
“Everybody else knows, Baby Doll. Just trust us, and we’ll show you.”
Tippy rubbed Ian’s hair and he sighed, content and happy, if only for an instant that he was in fact, at this moment in time, where he was needed and where he wanted to be the most.
Vignette #219: Completely Different
The actor playing a cameraman put the camera down when the actor playing the director yelled “Cut!”
Jeremy Tyson lay against the tiled wall and sighed, eyes rolling back in his head. He was covered in sweat and barely able to catch his breath. His head rolled to his right glimpsing Trampus Scott, who grinned, licked his lips and trembled as his own eyes rolled back in his head.
He was hot. He was thirsty and he couldn’t quite remember where he was or what he was doing.
He looked down at himself; naked, hands and belly covered in semen. The last few moments started coming back to him. He tried to sit up and look at his best friend, now passed out beside him in a similar physical condition.
Tyson trembled. What had he done? Why had he done it? Would he ever be able to remember and then forget?
“Looky what I have!” Saxon Allen stumbled in front of him. “Baby, I got candy!” She shook the little brown bottle in front of him.
That’s what he wanted. That’s what he needed, that white powdery salt in that little bottle. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed before or after that little bottle appeared. He smiled and reached out for it.
Saxon giggled, and stumbled closer being careful not to lose her grip on that precious life blood. Carefully cradling that vile, she hiked up her skirt, revealing she had forgotten again to put on panties and plopped herself on Jeremy’s spent sticky crotch.
“You want some?” She teased.
His tongue went to the corner of his smile as he nodded, trying not to show her just how hungry he was. “Yeah. Yeah, gimme some. Gimme some now.” He could barely hear his voice for the hunger screaming inside his head.
Saxon twisted the lid and stuck in a long chipped but glossy red fingernail until it disappeared into the brown glass. Despite her condition she managed to pull out a nice white pile cupped in that nail and hold it under one nostril. Jeremy pushed his slick finger against one side of his nose and snorted, quickly repeating the process for the other one.
He lost focus on Saxon as she began to enjoy her own turn at the brown glass trough. For a moment all he could do was lean back his head and enjoy the all to brief ride, the few moments of nothing in existence but every emotion in the universe. He felt her plop against his naked chest and heard her giggle when she banged her head against the tile, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Nothing mattered at all.
“Cut and…print.” Came the familiar voice from the dark behind the bright glare. The heat was gone in an instant as lights were shut off and dressers quickly appeared with robes, towels and water.
Jeremy pushed himself to a more comfortable sitting position and waved off the onslaught of crew for a moment. He looked over at his fellow actors, both looking as though they had spent every emotion they had.
Trampus simply nodded his head before stumbling to a stand, allowing a fluffy clean robe to be slipped on him.
“God, I need a cigarette.” Saxon wiped the sweat from her brow.
“You don’t smoke.” Jeremy positioned his robe to cover himself but didn’t put it on.
“That doesn’t mean I couldn’t sail right through a couple of packs about now.” Saxon accepted the bottled water, holding it first against her cheek. “And all I did was watch. You guys…you guys…holy crap.” She shook her head.
“No one said this was gonna be easy.” Jeremy looked at the floor.
“And we did all agree…” Trampus ignored the dirty looks from the nearby crew as he lit up a Marlboro Red. “We knew it would push our limits, borders, buttons and bows.”
Saxon reached a hand down to Jeremy and helped him stand. “I’m used to giggles and little pranks. This is soooo something completely different.” She helped him step into the robe.
“Giggles and pranks…hand jobs and cocaine.” Scott joked and made little hand motions to convey he was trying to weigh the difference.
“I’m used to shooting really big bugs with really big guns.” Jeremy looked at her and then over to Trampus.
“Hey, don’t look at me. I’m used to just standing around looking pretty.” He took a drag off his smoke and handed it to Jeremy. “There ain’t nothin’ pretty about this movie.”
“One way or another we’ll all three have very different careers once this hits the theatres.”
“And is all this…” a nearby production assistant whirled her hands in the air. “…gonna be worth it?”
The three looked at each other and said simultaneously in their own way, “Oh hell yeah.”
Jeremy Tyson lay against the tiled wall and sighed, eyes rolling back in his head. He was covered in sweat and barely able to catch his breath. His head rolled to his right glimpsing Trampus Scott, who grinned, licked his lips and trembled as his own eyes rolled back in his head.
He was hot. He was thirsty and he couldn’t quite remember where he was or what he was doing.
He looked down at himself; naked, hands and belly covered in semen. The last few moments started coming back to him. He tried to sit up and look at his best friend, now passed out beside him in a similar physical condition.
Tyson trembled. What had he done? Why had he done it? Would he ever be able to remember and then forget?
“Looky what I have!” Saxon Allen stumbled in front of him. “Baby, I got candy!” She shook the little brown bottle in front of him.
That’s what he wanted. That’s what he needed, that white powdery salt in that little bottle. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed before or after that little bottle appeared. He smiled and reached out for it.
Saxon giggled, and stumbled closer being careful not to lose her grip on that precious life blood. Carefully cradling that vile, she hiked up her skirt, revealing she had forgotten again to put on panties and plopped herself on Jeremy’s spent sticky crotch.
“You want some?” She teased.
His tongue went to the corner of his smile as he nodded, trying not to show her just how hungry he was. “Yeah. Yeah, gimme some. Gimme some now.” He could barely hear his voice for the hunger screaming inside his head.
Saxon twisted the lid and stuck in a long chipped but glossy red fingernail until it disappeared into the brown glass. Despite her condition she managed to pull out a nice white pile cupped in that nail and hold it under one nostril. Jeremy pushed his slick finger against one side of his nose and snorted, quickly repeating the process for the other one.
He lost focus on Saxon as she began to enjoy her own turn at the brown glass trough. For a moment all he could do was lean back his head and enjoy the all to brief ride, the few moments of nothing in existence but every emotion in the universe. He felt her plop against his naked chest and heard her giggle when she banged her head against the tile, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Nothing mattered at all.
“Cut and…print.” Came the familiar voice from the dark behind the bright glare. The heat was gone in an instant as lights were shut off and dressers quickly appeared with robes, towels and water.
Jeremy pushed himself to a more comfortable sitting position and waved off the onslaught of crew for a moment. He looked over at his fellow actors, both looking as though they had spent every emotion they had.
Trampus simply nodded his head before stumbling to a stand, allowing a fluffy clean robe to be slipped on him.
“God, I need a cigarette.” Saxon wiped the sweat from her brow.
“You don’t smoke.” Jeremy positioned his robe to cover himself but didn’t put it on.
“That doesn’t mean I couldn’t sail right through a couple of packs about now.” Saxon accepted the bottled water, holding it first against her cheek. “And all I did was watch. You guys…you guys…holy crap.” She shook her head.
“No one said this was gonna be easy.” Jeremy looked at the floor.
“And we did all agree…” Trampus ignored the dirty looks from the nearby crew as he lit up a Marlboro Red. “We knew it would push our limits, borders, buttons and bows.”
Saxon reached a hand down to Jeremy and helped him stand. “I’m used to giggles and little pranks. This is soooo something completely different.” She helped him step into the robe.
“Giggles and pranks…hand jobs and cocaine.” Scott joked and made little hand motions to convey he was trying to weigh the difference.
“I’m used to shooting really big bugs with really big guns.” Jeremy looked at her and then over to Trampus.
“Hey, don’t look at me. I’m used to just standing around looking pretty.” He took a drag off his smoke and handed it to Jeremy. “There ain’t nothin’ pretty about this movie.”
“One way or another we’ll all three have very different careers once this hits the theatres.”
“And is all this…” a nearby production assistant whirled her hands in the air. “…gonna be worth it?”
The three looked at each other and said simultaneously in their own way, “Oh hell yeah.”
Monday, June 20, 2011
Chapter 45: Lightning Bugs
The actor playing a cameraman put the camera down when the actor playing the director yelled “Cut!”
Jeremy Tyson lay against the tiled wall and sighed, eyes rolling back in his head. He was covered in sweat and barely able to catch his breath. His head rolled to his right glimpsing Trampus Scott, who grinned, licked his lips and trembled as his eyes rolled back in his head.
He was hot. He was thirsty and he couldn’t quite remember where he was or what he was doing.
He looked down at himself; naked, hands and belly covered in semen. The last few moments started coming back to him. He tried to sit up and look at his best friend, now passed out beside him in a similar physical condition.
Tyson trembled. What had he done? Why had he done it? Would he ever be able to remember and then forget?
“Looky what I have!” Saxon Allen stumbled in front of him. “Baby, I got candy!” He shook the little brown bottle in front of him.
That’s what he wanted. That’s what he needed, that white powdery salt in that little bottle. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed before or after that little bottle appeared. He smiled and reached out for it.
Saxon giggled, and stumbled closer being careful not to lose her grip on that precious life blood. Carefully cradling that vile, she hiked up her skirt, revealing she had forgotten again to put on panties and plopped herself on Jeremy’s spent sticky crotch.
“You want some?” She teased.
His tongue went to the corner of his smile as he nodded, trying not to show her just how hungry he was. “Yeah. Yeah, gimme some. Gimme some now.” He could barely hear his voice for the hunger screaming inside his head.
Saxon twisted the lid and stuck in a long chipped but glossy red fingernail until it disappeared into the brown glass. Despite her condition she managed to pull out a nice white pile cupped in that nail and hold it under one nostril. Jeremy pushed his slick finger against one side of his nose and snorted, quickly repeating the process for the other one.
He lost focus on Saxon as she began to enjoy her own turn at the brown glass trough. For a moment all he could do was lean back his head and enjoy the all to brief ride, the few moments of nothing in existence but every emotion in the universe. He felt her plop against his naked chest and heard her giggle when she banged her head against the tile, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Nothing mattered at all.
“Cut and…print.” Came the familiar voice from the dark behind the bright glare. The heat was gone in an instant as lights were shut off and dressers quickly appeared with robes, towels and water.
Jeremy pushed himself to a more comfortable sitting position and waved off the onslaught of crew for a moment. He looked over at his fellow actors, both looking as though they had spent every emotion they had.
Trampus simply nodded his head before stumbling to a stand, allowing a fluffy clean rob to be slipped on him.
“God, I need a cigarette.” Saxon wiped the sweat from her brow.
“You don’t smoke.” Jeremy positioned his robe to cover himself but didn’t put it on.
“That doesn’t mean I couldn’t sail right through a couple of packs about now.” Saxon accepted the bottled water, holding it first against her cheek. “And all I did was watch. You guys…you guys….holy crap.” She shook her head.
“No one said this was gonna be easy.” Jeremy looked at the floor.
“And we did all agree…” Trampus ignored the dirty looks from the nearby crew as he lit up a Marlboro Red. “We knew it would push our limits, borders, buttons and bows.”
Saxon reached a hand down to Jeremy and helped him stand. “I’m used to giggles and little pranks. This is soooo what I’m not used to.” She helped him step into the robe.
“Giggles and pranks…hand jobs and cocaine.” Scott joked and made little hand motions to convey he was trying to weigh the difference.
“I’m used to shooting really big bugs with really big guns.” Jeremy looked at her and then over to Trampus.
“Hey, don’t look at me, I’m used to just standing around and looking pretty.” He took a drag off his smoke and handed it to Jeremy. “There ain’t nothin’ pretty about this movie.”
“One way or another we’ll all three have very different careers once this hits the theatres.”
“And is all this…” a nearby production assistant whirled her hands in the air. “…gonna be worth it?”
The three looked at each other and said simultaneously in their own way, “Oh hell yeah.”
He was sitting on the chaise, Ralphie in his lap, stroking the dog’s mane and staring off into the distance. She watched just a moment. Ian Justyn lost in thought was a sight to behold.
She had known him long enough to pick up little things. Like the way he tilted his head almost undetectably to the right if the thought wasn’t quite connecting. Then there was what she called the stroke. He’d fold his index finger down and rub the second knuckle slowly back and forth across his bottom lip when he couldn’t focus on one thought.
Tonight, tonight was the hard one. His hands were methodically repeating a gesture, in this case stroking the dog’s coat hand over hand, his face was totally blank and his focus focused unfocused on something in the darkening sky. She feared that someday he’d get lost in that thought and never, ever come back.
She had to be gentle. More than once she had startled him from his thought trance and he’d broke out into a sweat that seemed painful. She made sure he heard her coming. She’d learned to always make sure he knew that you were coming.
“Baby Doll.” She smiled quietly and rubbed her fingers on his cheek.
It took just a barely noticeable moment, but he came back from where ever he was, not turning his head but moving his eyes to take her in. He smiled. “I thought you’d be in bed by now.”
Tippy made a sound to communicate otherwise. “May I sit with you?”
He nodded his head and smiled down at Ralphie, in heaven at the attention and the human touch. His tail beat quietly on the staccato of the patio. His chin pressed so tightly into Ian’s lap in almost became part of his skin.
She pulled a second armless chaise until it touched the one Ian was sprawled across and sat down putting her feet up after a long, long day. The only sound exchanged between them was silence, but it said absolutely everything that needed to be said. Tippy reached over to touched his cheek. He leaned forward a bit and rubbed his cheek tenderly against her fingers.
She knew that meant good, well almost good. They listened to the loud silence of California nature a moment. It was defining. From the corner of her eye she saw him move. Without ever taking her eye from the point out into space she was looking at, she slipped her arm around him as he leaned over and put his head on her shoulder. She didn’t squeeze. She didn’t rub. She just took him in.
She felt the tension in his body. She could feel the fire in his mind trying to get out, and his heart beating so fast it made the temperature outdoors even muggier. She gently lay her cheek on the top of that black, black hair.
“You know once before I left Mountain City, I sat out on our back porch, or I guess I should say the back part of our wrap around porch about this time of day. It was always my favorite time of day and time of year back home. Just about now, when you suddenly realize the light of that day was done for but the dark hadn’t quite taken over, the mountain would start to twinkle.”
“Twinkle?”
“Mmm hmmm, lighnin’ bugs; just millions of ‘em all over Forge Mountain. It always took my breath away. My Granny used to say it made her sad, but it just made my heart soar. Just think a tiny little bug just bein’ a bug and still getting’ someone to notice him from so far away.”
Tippy felt him smile and cuddle closer into her shoulder. “I always thought that’s how God sees us, us just bein’ one of millions of bugs each with our own special twinkle lightin’ up a tiny little portion of the mountain.”
“I used to cath ‘em and put them in a jar on my window sill. They’d either crawl out of the holes I made in the top or be laying on their back dead as doornails by morning. I always set the ones that lived free.”
“I think we all did that.” Tippy smiled. “Except m’ sister Jeannie. She’d catch ‘em, and rip their little buts off and smear ‘em on her finger until she had this nasty glowy little ring.”
Ian sat up a bit and looked at her. “Are you still close to your sister?”
“I wish.” Tippy sighed. “She really hasn’t spoken to me since I won Miss Johnson County. I beat her.”
“You were both in the same pageant?” Ian smirked. “That wasn’t smart.”
“Well, I knew that, but they only had five girls and for some reason they needed one more or it wouldn’t be official or something. I was barely old enough and Jeannie insisted.”
“Was she at last first runner up?”
“Came in next to last. Still it was my fault. Maybe it was. I always thought she was much prettier than me, and a much better singer but I guess the judges just couldn’t get past the fact that her personality read “Bitch” from fifty paces.”
“Anyone other siblings?”
“Just me and Jeannie. Daddy died when I was in high school and Mama passed away a few years ago.”
“You never hear from her?”
“Only when she wanted money from that day on. You know, I put all five of her kids through college and not one has even bothered to send a thank you note. We offered to fly ‘em all out here for every holiday and several times for just no reason at all, but they don’t want to be tainted I guess. Jeannie’s husband is a Holy Roller Preacher.”
“He’s gonna love “Quarters”.” Ian chuckled quietly.
“Ya know, that doesn’t matter, that movie is gonna shock a lot of people, but I also think it’s gonna open the eyes for a lot of people to a problem not many even know exist.”
“Good to know. Remind me of that when Westboro Baptist Church protests my kid’s birthday parties.”
“By the way, thank you.”
Ian sat up and looked Tippy in the eyes. “For what?”
She smiled and finally caressed his shoulder. “For m’job and for my little role in ‘Quarters’. Baby Doll, I know that sometimes it’s hard for you to understand the reason behind all the awful things that have happened, but for all the nasty you keep just dropping bucket loads of good on people, an’ me and Colton, we’re just two that are oh so greatful.”
Ian eased back to his place on her shoulder and Tippy settled back to just enjoy another moment or two with a young man who just needed a mother’s love. “Have you talked to Saxon lately?”
“She’s filming tonight, tougher on Jeremy and Trampus but I can tell it’s putting them all through the ringer. God, they are brilliant. I’ve just seen dailies and rushes, but Tippy I don’t think they even understand how incredible they are. I’ve even caught Mr. Turner sitting in his office in tears.”
“Aw, he’s just an’ old softie.”
“When I ask him if he wants to talk about it, he just pretends like he has something in his eye and says “It’s the way it should be.” And quickly changes the subject.”
“Hmmm….who does he remind me of?” Tippy mused to herself. “Now, I hate to be a grandmother, I cannot believe I’m admitting that out loud, but have you made any headway on setting up the nursery? This isn’t like the old days and you can just clean out a drawer to tuck ‘em in.”
“Actually, we’ve set tomorrow aside to look at the house plans and get started.” Ian stopped her before she could throw her ‘but’ in. “Until then, we’ve set up the cribs and the temporary nursery in the room between Ronnie and Clare. Obviously our boys are going to be born before we have a chance to finish the renovations, so that room seemed like the obvious choice.”
“Are you getting’ a little excited?”
“I’m still trying.” Tippy felt the tension come back into his body. “Just once, I’d like to be happy about becoming a father from the get go.”
“You weren’t happy about Ronnie?”
“To be honest, Taylor hid the fact she was pregnant for so long by the time I had no choice but get past my own stupidity all I could do was be terrified. Tippy, I was working four part time jobs and going to school and still couldn’t afford a place to live. She was living with Jude and I saw her so rarely I’m still shocked were alone long enough to get pregnant.”
“Well, babies aren’t known for always being convenient. Maybe next time, you’ll be a little more prepared.”
“I’m trying so hard, Tippy. I really am. There’s just still so much anger and mistrust with these twins. I’m not pointing fingers here, I’m just as angry at myself as I am at Clare. I think even Clare is apprehensive. Maybe when the little buggers finally pop out, we can all relax and just enjoy it.”
Tippy laughed. “Relaxing, yeah that’s exactly what happens with newborns.”
“Okay, okay…I got one son, and in many, many ways I’m still about to be a first time father, but I hope you understand what I mean.”
“You are going to take a paternity leave, aren’t you? Even just a small one?”
“That hadn’t occurred to me.” Ian started to sit up and then put his head back down on Tippy’s shoulder. “Nah. I can do this. Things won’t really heat up at the office until the end of August. It’ll be fine.”
“I don’know Baby Doll. Once you get a look at those sweet little babies, you may not want to even think about going into work for a while. Have you talked about names yet?”
“Ronnie’s partial to Spot and Fluffy, but that’s about it. I guess where kind of waiting until they’re born to decide…you know, to see which one looks like a Spot and which one looks like a Fluffy.”
“Good plan.” Tippy bit her lip. “Does Clare have any thoughts on that subject?”
“Not sure, but there shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Of course not. Realizing she was pregnant and getting to a doctor, getting around to telling the father and deciding on where to put the nursery were all a snap, picking a couple of names after giving birth to twins will be a walk in the park for her.”
“I know this isn’t going to be easy, Tippy, but I think the hard part is behind us, at least the hard part for Clare and I. The movie has about two weeks before we hit post-production. The fall season is solid and we’ve already got back up plans and we’re laying groundwork for next year. All is good.”
“Way to go Superman.”
“Now if we can just figure out that little annoying bit about someone trying to kill me, all will be well.”
“Baby Doll, you know everybody loves Superman, especially me, but I love Ian Justyn most of all. I’m hoping I get to see more of him real soon.”
“Me, too, Mamie Rae. Me, too.” Ian’s eyes darted to that far away place Tippy feared he’ll never come back from. “If I can just figure out who that is.”
“Everybody else knows, Baby Doll. Just trust us, and we’ll show you.”
Tippy rubbed Ian’s hair and he sighed, content and happy, if only for an instant that he was in fact, at this moment in time, where he was needed and where he wanted to be the most.
She stepped back inside, clutching the now opened manila envelopes to what little space was left between her belly and her breasts. She leaned against the wall and took several deep breaths. She had to get back in control.
Clare knew that was all she had left. She was in a place, a space and a time that she didn’t care to be. She could fix this. She knew she could. Gathering herself, she waddled with fury to her bedroom amazed at just how far going absolutely nowhere really was.
She stopped a moment and peered into the nursery. Two cribs, two mobiles, two of absolutely everything; why wasn’t it enough? She had overheard their conversation, and Ian was right, there was so much anger still and what she held in her hands burned her to the core.
Quietly, she shut to door to her room, locked it and eased herself to sit down on the bed. The envelopes splayed across the expensive spread. She tapped her fingers on the manila.
It was all there. There were a few loose ends, but putting this information along with what she’d found and added could very well end this in less than a couple of hours. She was smart enough to know that it was enough to bring it all to an abrupt end, but just as much would be left dangling in the wind with answers to questions never to be found.
Her cell phone rang. Swinging her legs to the floor she reached to the desktop and grabbed it.
“Unknown. Blocked number.”
Clare took a deep breath. “Timing, Clare. It’s all in the timing.” Before she flipped the lid she murmured to herself, “Let’s get this done.”
“Hello, Bruno.”
“Clare?” He seemed shocked. “How did you know it was me?”
“You’re the only one who ever calls me.”
“Awww and I’m so sorry it’s been such a long since we talked, but I thought you might need a little privacy.”
“Of course.”
“But you know I thought about you every day.”
“That’s sweet.”
“And?” He seemed to wait for her to jump right in. “How are things going?”
“What? Haven’t you heard the news?”
“Well, I did catch a few things on the tube and heard a few tidbits around the office, but you know me, I never believe anything until I hear it from you.”
“It’s twins, boys, two little boys. Due any day now.”
“Good for you.” Clare could almost see the glee on the man’s face she had never seen, and could almost write down word for word what he was going to say next. “With twins, you’ll have absolutely no problem milking that bastard for every penny he’s got and then some.”
“I’m sure…” Clare looked down at the swollen ankles swinging surprisingly relaxed but not quite touching the floor. “Bruno, I should tell you, a few things have changed.”
“I’m sure.” His voice became very reassuring. “I know you’ve been working hard to make everyone think you’ve made amends, but I know it’s all an act. Now, what’s changed, dear, and how can I help?”
She smiled. “Good. I knew you’d be on board. First of all, stop treating me like I’m an idiot.”
“Oh, Clare, the last thing I’ve ever thought was that you were an…”
“Bruno…” She cut him off. “Shut up.”
“Excuse me?”
“Which word didn’t you understand? Shut or up?”
“Now see here young lady...”
“No, Bruno, you see here. Let’s just cut to the chase, shall we?” Clare looked to make sure she’d locked the door to her room.
“By all means.” The civil tone had all but drained from his voice.
“I know what you’ve been doing, I know how you’ve been doing it and most important of all I know exactly who you are.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“I’m sure you don’t.” Clare dumped the contents of all three enveloped on her bed on spread them out. “Let me fill you in for a change.”
“By all means.”
“Do the names Blue, Peyton and Ella mean anything to you?”
Clare heard Bruno suppress a gulp. “No, but I suppose you are going to tell me why they should.”
“Ya screwed up Bruno, or do you want me to use your real name? I know what that is, too. The guys were dumb, but even you should know by now never ever mess with a woman.”
“I did not…”
“By the way, loved your DVD. I’d never seen a gay sex tape before. Interesting, and you really should have that mole on your butt removed. It looks like the ones that cause cancer.”
“DVD?”
“Oh come on, Bruno. You knew Blue was filming your little sessions, at least eventually. That’s why you killed him and thanks to Balouche they’re still only guessing the bullet that killed him came from your gun and not Kellen’s. Or did Peyton switch guns that night and hide in the bushes. I’m still guessing at that one.”
“You little…”
“Ah ah ah…temper. We’re just getting started. I haven’t even told you how you really screwed up yet.”
“I did not screw up.”
“Ella…you should have gotten to her first, Bruno. She’s the one who put it all together. Never mess with a woman. Guess why? She was undercover F.B.I.”
There was dead silence on the phone.
“Cat got your tongue?”
Laughing, the son of a bitch was laughing. “Okay, Clare. I admit that’s news, but Clare dear. I got it all. She’d stuffed it in her purse. I beat her senseless then went back and got it, just before I stomped her brains in. Gee, I wonder whose next…bitch.”
“Got it all, did’ja?” Clare knew this next reminder would wipe the grin right off his face. “Then how did I see your little DVD? Why do I have a handful of various IDs with different names but the same three faces? And just how did I have in my hot little bitch hands a copy of Ella’s hard drive?”
“Hard drive?”
“Recordings of conversations, copies of documents, handwriting samples….oooh she was thorough.”
“How did…?”
“Not sure, but somehow dear sweet stomped to death Ella managed to slip a few things in the mail and get a message to her partner in the F.B.I. that it was coming. Fortunately for you, all he got was the message. I managed to get the mail.”
“I see…and?”
“And?” Clare kicked her feet with nervous glee. “Oh and, did you by any chance see that weird cryptic message she scrawled on the wall in her own blood? Did she do that before or after you got all the evidence she gathered and stomped her brains out?”
“Before, but it doesn’t mean anything.”
“It doesn’t unless you read everything the postman delivered, oh…and a few things I managed to find myself.”
“You found?”
“Bruno, dear, sweet idiot Bruno. I’ve been doing a little digging on my own...during my private time It seems that Elizabeth Elysian has been playing her own games. When she sold Ian this house, it’s fabulous by the way, she also used a codicil, a perfectly legal one, that people use to side step inheritance taxes, and sold Ian everything.”
“Everything?”
“And I mean everything; stocks, bonds, rental properties, businesses. Ian will rake in around a million or so alone this year just off the businesses. It’s the rental properties I’m helping him with. I used to work with my Daddy. He was a banker. I know a little about that stuff. Hell, Bruno, I know a lot about that stuff.”
“Why the hell would she…?”
“Who the hell cares? Anyway, I’m also helping Kellen with his business. He sleeps during the day and misses a lot of phone calls. So I keep things straight for him. Actually I could care less, but it gives me an excuse to be in his house, so I can prowl around and see what kind of info they have…on you.”
“On me?”
“Oh yeah. They’re closing in, Bruno boy. Almost got’cha, lucky for me, maybe even you, that I’m always there when that little fax machine of his spits out cases that may be connected. Imagine my surprise when a couple of names and places made even my jaw drop.” She fingered a few faxes on her bedspread.
“Of course, without those, they’ll never be able to make any kind of connection. Talk about screwing up, but then you were just getting started. You never should have used Ian’s mother’s name and social security number.”
“Lylah?” Clare could hear Bruno sputtering. “I…uh…”
“All this time, we wondered why all this vengeful shit focused on Ian. They have their theory, and it’s a good one but it’s not possible. Then again, they don’t know the real reason, even I’m not sure of that but I know the connection.”
“You do, do you?”
“Oh it took me a day or two wondering, how the hell did he get Ian’s mother’s social security number. In fact that’s exactly what I was thinking when that last fax came in, and bingo…you would have to have gotten it at a bank, a bank where she had an account…my Daddy’s bank. You remember my Daddy?”
“No comment.”
Clare laughed quietly. “Already proven guilty. No need to plead the fifth.” She slipped out of the pile a copy she’d made from a yearbook with one finger. “Then I just got Jude in one of his ‘let’s tell stories about Ian’s horrendous childhood’ moods and it all fell into place.”
“It did, did it?” She could almost hear the man’s brain trying to plan a way out.
“You know I never would have recognized you. When the time comes, I need the name of your plastic surgeon. Or are they all dead, too?”
“What do you want Clare?”
She smiled, now he was talking. “Let me make something very clear, Bruno, right now I’m the only one with any of this information, and no one can get at it but me.”
“What if I don’t believe you?”
“I don’t see that you have much of a choice. Do you?” There was a silent huff on the phone line. “I know this is so bad HRT mystery cliché, but I’ve seen to it that if anything happens to me or my children, or I even think something’s going to happen to me or my children all this info gets put directly into the right hands before you have time to run, and I’m talking the guy sitting in the desk right beside you.”
“And what if something happens to your precious Ian, dear?”
“Anything happens to Ian, I get control of two thirds of everything for at least eighteen years or so. You think I really give a shit any more?”
“Let me repeat myself, what do you want?”
“Six million dollars, for starters. In my bank account by 9 A.M. tomorrow morning.”
“I can’t possibly do that.”
“Yes you can, or…I can do it myself. My Daddy and I were close, real close. He taught me how to do things like that, just like he taught you.”
“You’d have to have account numbers and…” He fell silent.
Clare smiled. She had him. That last part was a lie, but he didn’t know that and she was finally in total control again. “Did I tell you my babies are going to be little boys? I was thinking Howard was a good name. What do you think…bitch?”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Six million; 9 sharp and then you disappear, but not to far I’m sure I’ll need more money before too long. Raising twins is expensive, and so am I.”
“You’re gonna let me just disappear?”
“Oh you can’t disappear from me, Bruno. Remember, my Daddy taught me everything he taught you, and I was his precious little girl. I’m sure I know even more. You can run, but you can’t ever hide…not from me anyway.”
Jeremy Tyson lay against the tiled wall and sighed, eyes rolling back in his head. He was covered in sweat and barely able to catch his breath. His head rolled to his right glimpsing Trampus Scott, who grinned, licked his lips and trembled as his eyes rolled back in his head.
He was hot. He was thirsty and he couldn’t quite remember where he was or what he was doing.
He looked down at himself; naked, hands and belly covered in semen. The last few moments started coming back to him. He tried to sit up and look at his best friend, now passed out beside him in a similar physical condition.
Tyson trembled. What had he done? Why had he done it? Would he ever be able to remember and then forget?
“Looky what I have!” Saxon Allen stumbled in front of him. “Baby, I got candy!” He shook the little brown bottle in front of him.
That’s what he wanted. That’s what he needed, that white powdery salt in that little bottle. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed before or after that little bottle appeared. He smiled and reached out for it.
Saxon giggled, and stumbled closer being careful not to lose her grip on that precious life blood. Carefully cradling that vile, she hiked up her skirt, revealing she had forgotten again to put on panties and plopped herself on Jeremy’s spent sticky crotch.
“You want some?” She teased.
His tongue went to the corner of his smile as he nodded, trying not to show her just how hungry he was. “Yeah. Yeah, gimme some. Gimme some now.” He could barely hear his voice for the hunger screaming inside his head.
Saxon twisted the lid and stuck in a long chipped but glossy red fingernail until it disappeared into the brown glass. Despite her condition she managed to pull out a nice white pile cupped in that nail and hold it under one nostril. Jeremy pushed his slick finger against one side of his nose and snorted, quickly repeating the process for the other one.
He lost focus on Saxon as she began to enjoy her own turn at the brown glass trough. For a moment all he could do was lean back his head and enjoy the all to brief ride, the few moments of nothing in existence but every emotion in the universe. He felt her plop against his naked chest and heard her giggle when she banged her head against the tile, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Nothing mattered at all.
“Cut and…print.” Came the familiar voice from the dark behind the bright glare. The heat was gone in an instant as lights were shut off and dressers quickly appeared with robes, towels and water.
Jeremy pushed himself to a more comfortable sitting position and waved off the onslaught of crew for a moment. He looked over at his fellow actors, both looking as though they had spent every emotion they had.
Trampus simply nodded his head before stumbling to a stand, allowing a fluffy clean rob to be slipped on him.
“God, I need a cigarette.” Saxon wiped the sweat from her brow.
“You don’t smoke.” Jeremy positioned his robe to cover himself but didn’t put it on.
“That doesn’t mean I couldn’t sail right through a couple of packs about now.” Saxon accepted the bottled water, holding it first against her cheek. “And all I did was watch. You guys…you guys….holy crap.” She shook her head.
“No one said this was gonna be easy.” Jeremy looked at the floor.
“And we did all agree…” Trampus ignored the dirty looks from the nearby crew as he lit up a Marlboro Red. “We knew it would push our limits, borders, buttons and bows.”
Saxon reached a hand down to Jeremy and helped him stand. “I’m used to giggles and little pranks. This is soooo what I’m not used to.” She helped him step into the robe.
“Giggles and pranks…hand jobs and cocaine.” Scott joked and made little hand motions to convey he was trying to weigh the difference.
“I’m used to shooting really big bugs with really big guns.” Jeremy looked at her and then over to Trampus.
“Hey, don’t look at me, I’m used to just standing around and looking pretty.” He took a drag off his smoke and handed it to Jeremy. “There ain’t nothin’ pretty about this movie.”
“One way or another we’ll all three have very different careers once this hits the theatres.”
“And is all this…” a nearby production assistant whirled her hands in the air. “…gonna be worth it?”
The three looked at each other and said simultaneously in their own way, “Oh hell yeah.”
He was sitting on the chaise, Ralphie in his lap, stroking the dog’s mane and staring off into the distance. She watched just a moment. Ian Justyn lost in thought was a sight to behold.
She had known him long enough to pick up little things. Like the way he tilted his head almost undetectably to the right if the thought wasn’t quite connecting. Then there was what she called the stroke. He’d fold his index finger down and rub the second knuckle slowly back and forth across his bottom lip when he couldn’t focus on one thought.
Tonight, tonight was the hard one. His hands were methodically repeating a gesture, in this case stroking the dog’s coat hand over hand, his face was totally blank and his focus focused unfocused on something in the darkening sky. She feared that someday he’d get lost in that thought and never, ever come back.
She had to be gentle. More than once she had startled him from his thought trance and he’d broke out into a sweat that seemed painful. She made sure he heard her coming. She’d learned to always make sure he knew that you were coming.
“Baby Doll.” She smiled quietly and rubbed her fingers on his cheek.
It took just a barely noticeable moment, but he came back from where ever he was, not turning his head but moving his eyes to take her in. He smiled. “I thought you’d be in bed by now.”
Tippy made a sound to communicate otherwise. “May I sit with you?”
He nodded his head and smiled down at Ralphie, in heaven at the attention and the human touch. His tail beat quietly on the staccato of the patio. His chin pressed so tightly into Ian’s lap in almost became part of his skin.
She pulled a second armless chaise until it touched the one Ian was sprawled across and sat down putting her feet up after a long, long day. The only sound exchanged between them was silence, but it said absolutely everything that needed to be said. Tippy reached over to touched his cheek. He leaned forward a bit and rubbed his cheek tenderly against her fingers.
She knew that meant good, well almost good. They listened to the loud silence of California nature a moment. It was defining. From the corner of her eye she saw him move. Without ever taking her eye from the point out into space she was looking at, she slipped her arm around him as he leaned over and put his head on her shoulder. She didn’t squeeze. She didn’t rub. She just took him in.
She felt the tension in his body. She could feel the fire in his mind trying to get out, and his heart beating so fast it made the temperature outdoors even muggier. She gently lay her cheek on the top of that black, black hair.
“You know once before I left Mountain City, I sat out on our back porch, or I guess I should say the back part of our wrap around porch about this time of day. It was always my favorite time of day and time of year back home. Just about now, when you suddenly realize the light of that day was done for but the dark hadn’t quite taken over, the mountain would start to twinkle.”
“Twinkle?”
“Mmm hmmm, lighnin’ bugs; just millions of ‘em all over Forge Mountain. It always took my breath away. My Granny used to say it made her sad, but it just made my heart soar. Just think a tiny little bug just bein’ a bug and still getting’ someone to notice him from so far away.”
Tippy felt him smile and cuddle closer into her shoulder. “I always thought that’s how God sees us, us just bein’ one of millions of bugs each with our own special twinkle lightin’ up a tiny little portion of the mountain.”
“I used to cath ‘em and put them in a jar on my window sill. They’d either crawl out of the holes I made in the top or be laying on their back dead as doornails by morning. I always set the ones that lived free.”
“I think we all did that.” Tippy smiled. “Except m’ sister Jeannie. She’d catch ‘em, and rip their little buts off and smear ‘em on her finger until she had this nasty glowy little ring.”
Ian sat up a bit and looked at her. “Are you still close to your sister?”
“I wish.” Tippy sighed. “She really hasn’t spoken to me since I won Miss Johnson County. I beat her.”
“You were both in the same pageant?” Ian smirked. “That wasn’t smart.”
“Well, I knew that, but they only had five girls and for some reason they needed one more or it wouldn’t be official or something. I was barely old enough and Jeannie insisted.”
“Was she at last first runner up?”
“Came in next to last. Still it was my fault. Maybe it was. I always thought she was much prettier than me, and a much better singer but I guess the judges just couldn’t get past the fact that her personality read “Bitch” from fifty paces.”
“Anyone other siblings?”
“Just me and Jeannie. Daddy died when I was in high school and Mama passed away a few years ago.”
“You never hear from her?”
“Only when she wanted money from that day on. You know, I put all five of her kids through college and not one has even bothered to send a thank you note. We offered to fly ‘em all out here for every holiday and several times for just no reason at all, but they don’t want to be tainted I guess. Jeannie’s husband is a Holy Roller Preacher.”
“He’s gonna love “Quarters”.” Ian chuckled quietly.
“Ya know, that doesn’t matter, that movie is gonna shock a lot of people, but I also think it’s gonna open the eyes for a lot of people to a problem not many even know exist.”
“Good to know. Remind me of that when Westboro Baptist Church protests my kid’s birthday parties.”
“By the way, thank you.”
Ian sat up and looked Tippy in the eyes. “For what?”
She smiled and finally caressed his shoulder. “For m’job and for my little role in ‘Quarters’. Baby Doll, I know that sometimes it’s hard for you to understand the reason behind all the awful things that have happened, but for all the nasty you keep just dropping bucket loads of good on people, an’ me and Colton, we’re just two that are oh so greatful.”
Ian eased back to his place on her shoulder and Tippy settled back to just enjoy another moment or two with a young man who just needed a mother’s love. “Have you talked to Saxon lately?”
“She’s filming tonight, tougher on Jeremy and Trampus but I can tell it’s putting them all through the ringer. God, they are brilliant. I’ve just seen dailies and rushes, but Tippy I don’t think they even understand how incredible they are. I’ve even caught Mr. Turner sitting in his office in tears.”
“Aw, he’s just an’ old softie.”
“When I ask him if he wants to talk about it, he just pretends like he has something in his eye and says “It’s the way it should be.” And quickly changes the subject.”
“Hmmm….who does he remind me of?” Tippy mused to herself. “Now, I hate to be a grandmother, I cannot believe I’m admitting that out loud, but have you made any headway on setting up the nursery? This isn’t like the old days and you can just clean out a drawer to tuck ‘em in.”
“Actually, we’ve set tomorrow aside to look at the house plans and get started.” Ian stopped her before she could throw her ‘but’ in. “Until then, we’ve set up the cribs and the temporary nursery in the room between Ronnie and Clare. Obviously our boys are going to be born before we have a chance to finish the renovations, so that room seemed like the obvious choice.”
“Are you getting’ a little excited?”
“I’m still trying.” Tippy felt the tension come back into his body. “Just once, I’d like to be happy about becoming a father from the get go.”
“You weren’t happy about Ronnie?”
“To be honest, Taylor hid the fact she was pregnant for so long by the time I had no choice but get past my own stupidity all I could do was be terrified. Tippy, I was working four part time jobs and going to school and still couldn’t afford a place to live. She was living with Jude and I saw her so rarely I’m still shocked were alone long enough to get pregnant.”
“Well, babies aren’t known for always being convenient. Maybe next time, you’ll be a little more prepared.”
“I’m trying so hard, Tippy. I really am. There’s just still so much anger and mistrust with these twins. I’m not pointing fingers here, I’m just as angry at myself as I am at Clare. I think even Clare is apprehensive. Maybe when the little buggers finally pop out, we can all relax and just enjoy it.”
Tippy laughed. “Relaxing, yeah that’s exactly what happens with newborns.”
“Okay, okay…I got one son, and in many, many ways I’m still about to be a first time father, but I hope you understand what I mean.”
“You are going to take a paternity leave, aren’t you? Even just a small one?”
“That hadn’t occurred to me.” Ian started to sit up and then put his head back down on Tippy’s shoulder. “Nah. I can do this. Things won’t really heat up at the office until the end of August. It’ll be fine.”
“I don’know Baby Doll. Once you get a look at those sweet little babies, you may not want to even think about going into work for a while. Have you talked about names yet?”
“Ronnie’s partial to Spot and Fluffy, but that’s about it. I guess where kind of waiting until they’re born to decide…you know, to see which one looks like a Spot and which one looks like a Fluffy.”
“Good plan.” Tippy bit her lip. “Does Clare have any thoughts on that subject?”
“Not sure, but there shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Of course not. Realizing she was pregnant and getting to a doctor, getting around to telling the father and deciding on where to put the nursery were all a snap, picking a couple of names after giving birth to twins will be a walk in the park for her.”
“I know this isn’t going to be easy, Tippy, but I think the hard part is behind us, at least the hard part for Clare and I. The movie has about two weeks before we hit post-production. The fall season is solid and we’ve already got back up plans and we’re laying groundwork for next year. All is good.”
“Way to go Superman.”
“Now if we can just figure out that little annoying bit about someone trying to kill me, all will be well.”
“Baby Doll, you know everybody loves Superman, especially me, but I love Ian Justyn most of all. I’m hoping I get to see more of him real soon.”
“Me, too, Mamie Rae. Me, too.” Ian’s eyes darted to that far away place Tippy feared he’ll never come back from. “If I can just figure out who that is.”
“Everybody else knows, Baby Doll. Just trust us, and we’ll show you.”
Tippy rubbed Ian’s hair and he sighed, content and happy, if only for an instant that he was in fact, at this moment in time, where he was needed and where he wanted to be the most.
She stepped back inside, clutching the now opened manila envelopes to what little space was left between her belly and her breasts. She leaned against the wall and took several deep breaths. She had to get back in control.
Clare knew that was all she had left. She was in a place, a space and a time that she didn’t care to be. She could fix this. She knew she could. Gathering herself, she waddled with fury to her bedroom amazed at just how far going absolutely nowhere really was.
She stopped a moment and peered into the nursery. Two cribs, two mobiles, two of absolutely everything; why wasn’t it enough? She had overheard their conversation, and Ian was right, there was so much anger still and what she held in her hands burned her to the core.
Quietly, she shut to door to her room, locked it and eased herself to sit down on the bed. The envelopes splayed across the expensive spread. She tapped her fingers on the manila.
It was all there. There were a few loose ends, but putting this information along with what she’d found and added could very well end this in less than a couple of hours. She was smart enough to know that it was enough to bring it all to an abrupt end, but just as much would be left dangling in the wind with answers to questions never to be found.
Her cell phone rang. Swinging her legs to the floor she reached to the desktop and grabbed it.
“Unknown. Blocked number.”
Clare took a deep breath. “Timing, Clare. It’s all in the timing.” Before she flipped the lid she murmured to herself, “Let’s get this done.”
“Hello, Bruno.”
“Clare?” He seemed shocked. “How did you know it was me?”
“You’re the only one who ever calls me.”
“Awww and I’m so sorry it’s been such a long since we talked, but I thought you might need a little privacy.”
“Of course.”
“But you know I thought about you every day.”
“That’s sweet.”
“And?” He seemed to wait for her to jump right in. “How are things going?”
“What? Haven’t you heard the news?”
“Well, I did catch a few things on the tube and heard a few tidbits around the office, but you know me, I never believe anything until I hear it from you.”
“It’s twins, boys, two little boys. Due any day now.”
“Good for you.” Clare could almost see the glee on the man’s face she had never seen, and could almost write down word for word what he was going to say next. “With twins, you’ll have absolutely no problem milking that bastard for every penny he’s got and then some.”
“I’m sure…” Clare looked down at the swollen ankles swinging surprisingly relaxed but not quite touching the floor. “Bruno, I should tell you, a few things have changed.”
“I’m sure.” His voice became very reassuring. “I know you’ve been working hard to make everyone think you’ve made amends, but I know it’s all an act. Now, what’s changed, dear, and how can I help?”
She smiled. “Good. I knew you’d be on board. First of all, stop treating me like I’m an idiot.”
“Oh, Clare, the last thing I’ve ever thought was that you were an…”
“Bruno…” She cut him off. “Shut up.”
“Excuse me?”
“Which word didn’t you understand? Shut or up?”
“Now see here young lady...”
“No, Bruno, you see here. Let’s just cut to the chase, shall we?” Clare looked to make sure she’d locked the door to her room.
“By all means.” The civil tone had all but drained from his voice.
“I know what you’ve been doing, I know how you’ve been doing it and most important of all I know exactly who you are.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“I’m sure you don’t.” Clare dumped the contents of all three enveloped on her bed on spread them out. “Let me fill you in for a change.”
“By all means.”
“Do the names Blue, Peyton and Ella mean anything to you?”
Clare heard Bruno suppress a gulp. “No, but I suppose you are going to tell me why they should.”
“Ya screwed up Bruno, or do you want me to use your real name? I know what that is, too. The guys were dumb, but even you should know by now never ever mess with a woman.”
“I did not…”
“By the way, loved your DVD. I’d never seen a gay sex tape before. Interesting, and you really should have that mole on your butt removed. It looks like the ones that cause cancer.”
“DVD?”
“Oh come on, Bruno. You knew Blue was filming your little sessions, at least eventually. That’s why you killed him and thanks to Balouche they’re still only guessing the bullet that killed him came from your gun and not Kellen’s. Or did Peyton switch guns that night and hide in the bushes. I’m still guessing at that one.”
“You little…”
“Ah ah ah…temper. We’re just getting started. I haven’t even told you how you really screwed up yet.”
“I did not screw up.”
“Ella…you should have gotten to her first, Bruno. She’s the one who put it all together. Never mess with a woman. Guess why? She was undercover F.B.I.”
There was dead silence on the phone.
“Cat got your tongue?”
Laughing, the son of a bitch was laughing. “Okay, Clare. I admit that’s news, but Clare dear. I got it all. She’d stuffed it in her purse. I beat her senseless then went back and got it, just before I stomped her brains in. Gee, I wonder whose next…bitch.”
“Got it all, did’ja?” Clare knew this next reminder would wipe the grin right off his face. “Then how did I see your little DVD? Why do I have a handful of various IDs with different names but the same three faces? And just how did I have in my hot little bitch hands a copy of Ella’s hard drive?”
“Hard drive?”
“Recordings of conversations, copies of documents, handwriting samples….oooh she was thorough.”
“How did…?”
“Not sure, but somehow dear sweet stomped to death Ella managed to slip a few things in the mail and get a message to her partner in the F.B.I. that it was coming. Fortunately for you, all he got was the message. I managed to get the mail.”
“I see…and?”
“And?” Clare kicked her feet with nervous glee. “Oh and, did you by any chance see that weird cryptic message she scrawled on the wall in her own blood? Did she do that before or after you got all the evidence she gathered and stomped her brains out?”
“Before, but it doesn’t mean anything.”
“It doesn’t unless you read everything the postman delivered, oh…and a few things I managed to find myself.”
“You found?”
“Bruno, dear, sweet idiot Bruno. I’ve been doing a little digging on my own...during my private time It seems that Elizabeth Elysian has been playing her own games. When she sold Ian this house, it’s fabulous by the way, she also used a codicil, a perfectly legal one, that people use to side step inheritance taxes, and sold Ian everything.”
“Everything?”
“And I mean everything; stocks, bonds, rental properties, businesses. Ian will rake in around a million or so alone this year just off the businesses. It’s the rental properties I’m helping him with. I used to work with my Daddy. He was a banker. I know a little about that stuff. Hell, Bruno, I know a lot about that stuff.”
“Why the hell would she…?”
“Who the hell cares? Anyway, I’m also helping Kellen with his business. He sleeps during the day and misses a lot of phone calls. So I keep things straight for him. Actually I could care less, but it gives me an excuse to be in his house, so I can prowl around and see what kind of info they have…on you.”
“On me?”
“Oh yeah. They’re closing in, Bruno boy. Almost got’cha, lucky for me, maybe even you, that I’m always there when that little fax machine of his spits out cases that may be connected. Imagine my surprise when a couple of names and places made even my jaw drop.” She fingered a few faxes on her bedspread.
“Of course, without those, they’ll never be able to make any kind of connection. Talk about screwing up, but then you were just getting started. You never should have used Ian’s mother’s name and social security number.”
“Lylah?” Clare could hear Bruno sputtering. “I…uh…”
“All this time, we wondered why all this vengeful shit focused on Ian. They have their theory, and it’s a good one but it’s not possible. Then again, they don’t know the real reason, even I’m not sure of that but I know the connection.”
“You do, do you?”
“Oh it took me a day or two wondering, how the hell did he get Ian’s mother’s social security number. In fact that’s exactly what I was thinking when that last fax came in, and bingo…you would have to have gotten it at a bank, a bank where she had an account…my Daddy’s bank. You remember my Daddy?”
“No comment.”
Clare laughed quietly. “Already proven guilty. No need to plead the fifth.” She slipped out of the pile a copy she’d made from a yearbook with one finger. “Then I just got Jude in one of his ‘let’s tell stories about Ian’s horrendous childhood’ moods and it all fell into place.”
“It did, did it?” She could almost hear the man’s brain trying to plan a way out.
“You know I never would have recognized you. When the time comes, I need the name of your plastic surgeon. Or are they all dead, too?”
“What do you want Clare?”
She smiled, now he was talking. “Let me make something very clear, Bruno, right now I’m the only one with any of this information, and no one can get at it but me.”
“What if I don’t believe you?”
“I don’t see that you have much of a choice. Do you?” There was a silent huff on the phone line. “I know this is so bad HRT mystery cliché, but I’ve seen to it that if anything happens to me or my children, or I even think something’s going to happen to me or my children all this info gets put directly into the right hands before you have time to run, and I’m talking the guy sitting in the desk right beside you.”
“And what if something happens to your precious Ian, dear?”
“Anything happens to Ian, I get control of two thirds of everything for at least eighteen years or so. You think I really give a shit any more?”
“Let me repeat myself, what do you want?”
“Six million dollars, for starters. In my bank account by 9 A.M. tomorrow morning.”
“I can’t possibly do that.”
“Yes you can, or…I can do it myself. My Daddy and I were close, real close. He taught me how to do things like that, just like he taught you.”
“You’d have to have account numbers and…” He fell silent.
Clare smiled. She had him. That last part was a lie, but he didn’t know that and she was finally in total control again. “Did I tell you my babies are going to be little boys? I was thinking Howard was a good name. What do you think…bitch?”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Six million; 9 sharp and then you disappear, but not to far I’m sure I’ll need more money before too long. Raising twins is expensive, and so am I.”
“You’re gonna let me just disappear?”
“Oh you can’t disappear from me, Bruno. Remember, my Daddy taught me everything he taught you, and I was his precious little girl. I’m sure I know even more. You can run, but you can’t ever hide…not from me anyway.”
Friday, June 17, 2011
Vignette #218: Finding Beagles
David Turner was grinning from ear to ear as he turned the set off in his office. He knew the industry was watching. He also knew that they were sweating.
Young Justyn had done it. “They” were willing to write off the coups he arranged as beginner’s luck. “They” had assumed that his brilliant stroke of turning the abysmal “Sebastian Manor” into a not miss laugh riot was desperation paying off.
“America Alive” was the first thing that would actually have Justyn’s fingerprints all over it. Too bad “They” didn’t realize if Ian knew how to do anything it was make a news format entertaining and informative and a success. He’d taken a barely watched hour in the afternoon in a tiny market and turned it into a dynamo that was outpacing anything networks could churn out. That’s what had got him to Hollywood in the first place.
Granted it was only the first outing, but “America Alive” went from snooze fest to a morning jolt of fresh coffee in the first five minutes. It was fast paced, funny, irreverent and above all direct. By the end of the program, everyone one watching knew when to tune in for the news; unslanted, unbiased and just the facts. They also knew that in between those details was a wild ride at break neck speed.
Turner wondered how many people were late for work because they couldn’t take their eyes off of HRT at 6 in the morning. There was no doubt that before too long their bottom feeder morning news would be a killer in the ratings. He also had no doubt that by the end of the summer; the other networks would be trying to imitate it.
He’d had no doubt at all. He had just wondered when the rest of the world would catch on to the fact that Ian Justyn was more than a pretty face and a sound bite magnet. The man knew what he was doing. All Turner had to do now was sit back and let him do it.
Oh, the blood bath in September would be such sweet revenge. Too long HRT had been considered the Miss America pageant of networks. While his rivals had acknowledged Young Justyn’s knack for scoring the hottest talent available, they done little more than give the new schedule a nice pat on the head and say “How adorable”.
“Adorable is about to rip them all a new one.” He said to himself.
Turner swiveled the chair in his penthouse office around to gaze outside. He hadn’t felt this sure and this confident since he couldn’t remember when…yes he could. It was a long time ago…
…Somehow Lucille had done it again. It wasn’t a huge premiere. There wasn’t a big company with endless pockets to back it up. None of the stars or the director were household names, but some how Lucille had managed to pack the place with as many big names as she could cajole, beg or blackmail into being there.
There hadn’t been an empty seat in the house. He had to admit while standing in the back of the house waiting for “Breathe” to begin, he was holding his breath. The crowd was restless and noisy, barely noticing that the movie had begun.
It didn’t take long, before they grew silent. At first he thought it might just be respect for someone who might actually want to see it.
Then she appeared on the screen, and as many times as he’d already seen it, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He was transfixed, and as soon as he was able again to take his eyes away, he knew the audience was transfixed, too. And then not just by her, but by the movie itself. He’d done well.
And now he stood in the midst of everyone in the ballroom rented for the after party. Every phone in town must have been busy during the screening because suddenly all of Hollywood was trying to crash the wet bar. They had done it, damn; they’d managed to pull it out of the fire.
“You look like the fat feline with yellow feathers in his mouth.” Someone said from behind him.
He turned to see the face with the voice. Lucille stood dutifully arm in arm with her husband James. “Well, Mr. Turner looks like our labor of love has paid off.”
David put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Well, Mr. Redfield, I think we can both rest easy tonight.”
Lucille looked around him. “Where is she?”
They panicked. “She was right here just a moment ago.” Turner searched the room with his eyes frantically.
“Calm down.” Redfield tried to calm them. “She’s probably hiding in the bathroom. She’s scared to death, poor thing.”
“I’ll go get her.” Lucille smirked. “Scared or not, she needs to be seen.” Before she headed for the john she hissed at Turner. “And as soon as I drag that idiot back here, don’t let her out of your sight until we figure out what to do with her.”
“What to do with her?” Turner asked.
“One wrong word to the wrong person, hell to the right person and this night of triumph turns into a nightmare.” Lucille just had to remind him.
Despite the wall-to-wall superstar, it didn’t take Lucille long to get back from the facilities. “She’s not in there.”
“What?”
“Find her, damn it, find that woman!” Lucille snarled as quietly as possible. “It can’t be hard to find a moron in the room.”
“Oh great, we have to find the beagle in a room full of brown and white puppies.” Redfield looked as discreetly as possible around the ballroom.
Turner saw a familiar face. He grabbed the man’s arm. “Herman, have you seen your sister?”
“No, not recently.” Lucille gave him a look that made the man panic. “Look she’s scared to death, always hated crowds and attention. She’s just found a corner to hide in. You should know she does that by now.”
“Great.” Lucille said. “We’ve got our new star trembling behind the drapes. I’m not paying for the dry cleaning if she blows her nose on them.”
Elysian pointed. “There she is.”
“Where?” Turner craned his neck to see where he was pointing.
“On the bandstand.”
“I’ll go get her.” Redfield volunteered.
“No.” Turner put up his hand. “Let me.”
“Hurry, before she gets away. Hedda Hopper’s here, the last person on Earth you want her talking to, and you know that bitch wants to talk to her.” Lucille shoved him in the direction of the bandstand.
“She’ll be fine.” Herman defended his sister. “She’s loves music. It calms her down. She’s probably just enjoying it.” He grabbed Turner’s arm. “Let me go with you, just in case she is having another meltdown. I can usually keep her calm.”
“Then go.” Lucille urged them on with her hands. “Don’t talk about defusing the bomb when it’s about to go off. Just choose a color and yank the wire…NOW!”
She was so glad there was music. She loved music. She had made her way near the band and was swaying back and forth humming to the song. How she wanted to get closer to it and farther away from them.
Well, most of them. They kept making her do things she didn’t want to do. That woman was the worst of all. She was mean and she frightened her. The two men were sweet though, and she kept letting them talk her into doing want the mean woman wanted. She couldn’t help it if it kept making her cry.
She hated that monstrosity they called a camera. It kept getting too close and every time she would start to enjoy herself, it would be there. It was horrible.
But the bandstand had a bright silvery microphone. She’d always liked microphones. Her Daddy would never let her near one.
“Music is of the devil. It will drag you down to hell with it.” He would say anytime he heard he sing.
She was glad no one noticed her step up on the stage. The man at the piano had smiled at her, so she stepped right up and sat down beside him. He never missed a beat; his fingers kept right on running across the keyboard.
When she heard a few people giggle, she almost got up and ran but the piano man said, “You stay right there, hon. This is your night. Enjoy it.”
It made her feel so warm inside. She didn’t know what he meant, but she thought it meant she could stay where she was. So she did. The man nodded his head and started playing another song.
It was so beautiful she forgot she was somewhere she shouldn’t be. She did know that her Daddy wasn’t anywhere near anymore. Herman had taken her away from that awful man. Remembering that made her smile and close her eyes.
Then she started to sing. She knew all the words and sang right along. It felt so nice. It felt so good. She hadn’t felt that way in a long, long time.
They had managed to make their way to the bandstand. Herman and David, James and Lucille not far behind, had managed to get there without anyone noticing they were desperate to get to the new starlet. Another few steps and either David or Herman could speak quietly to her, hopefully getting her to take an arm and not let go for the rest of the night.
David was about to reach up to her when, again, a hand grabbed his arm.
“Wait.” Lucille said. She nodded her head toward the shy bird on the piano stool. “Listen.”
Turner turned his ear toward the stage. His eyes grew wide and he shot a glance toward Redfield and his wife.
Lucille was smiling. “I think I know what to do with her.”
“What?” Her husband whispered.
“We can keep this up.” The woman was almost smiling, something Turner wasn’t sure he’d ever seen. “Who knows where this could take us?”
She opened her eyes and saw them looking at her. She knew they would make her stop so she was going to enjoy this as long as she could. Surely, they’d at least wait for the song to end before they dragged her back.
“You have a beautiful voice, my dear.” The piano man said.
“Thank you. I like to sing.” She blushed and said quietly. “You play beautifully.”
“Well, I am Ralston Scott. That’s what they pay me to do.”
“Okay.” She had no idea what he meant, but she glanced down at the mean lady and that nice man her brother called Dave. She knew her safe time was almost up.
“Sing something else.” The piano man said.
“Me?”
“Of course you.”
“Alright. What should I sing?”
“Anything you want.” He said.
She looked to see if they were frowning, but that silvery microphone got in the way. She pointed at it. “Can I sing there?”
“Of course.” The piano man seemed to think that was a funny thing to say.
She didn’t care. She got up and went right to that microphone. “Uhm…”
The boom of her voice suddenly made everyone in the room stop and look at her. At first it scared her, but she reached out and held on to the silver. She turned to the piano man and asked. “Do you know ‘Ever After Blue Sky’?”
“I should. I wrote it.”
“Okay.” She said.
There was some laughter, but it was not going to make her run this time. She was going to sing. She heard the notes of her favorite song and closed her eyes.
When her mouth opened she could hear herself clear and strong. It was wonderful. When she opened her eyes no one was laughing, but they were all looking at her. They were all looking at her and she could feel how much they liked her song. It made her want to sing more. She did.
They applauded. They applauded her when she finished. She couldn’t believe it. She just stood there and smiled. She didn’t know what else to do.
“Tell us your name again, hon,” The piano man said making her turn her head to him.
“My name is…”
He motioned for her to turn around and say her name in the silvery microphone so everyone could hear. “My name is…I…”
They caught her eye. Those three people and her brother were standing right there in front of her. The mean woman frowned, but the man named Dave smiled and nodded is head.
She remembered.
“My name is Darla…Darla Hutton.”
And Dave knew without a doubt, that a star was born.
Young Justyn had done it. “They” were willing to write off the coups he arranged as beginner’s luck. “They” had assumed that his brilliant stroke of turning the abysmal “Sebastian Manor” into a not miss laugh riot was desperation paying off.
“America Alive” was the first thing that would actually have Justyn’s fingerprints all over it. Too bad “They” didn’t realize if Ian knew how to do anything it was make a news format entertaining and informative and a success. He’d taken a barely watched hour in the afternoon in a tiny market and turned it into a dynamo that was outpacing anything networks could churn out. That’s what had got him to Hollywood in the first place.
Granted it was only the first outing, but “America Alive” went from snooze fest to a morning jolt of fresh coffee in the first five minutes. It was fast paced, funny, irreverent and above all direct. By the end of the program, everyone one watching knew when to tune in for the news; unslanted, unbiased and just the facts. They also knew that in between those details was a wild ride at break neck speed.
Turner wondered how many people were late for work because they couldn’t take their eyes off of HRT at 6 in the morning. There was no doubt that before too long their bottom feeder morning news would be a killer in the ratings. He also had no doubt that by the end of the summer; the other networks would be trying to imitate it.
He’d had no doubt at all. He had just wondered when the rest of the world would catch on to the fact that Ian Justyn was more than a pretty face and a sound bite magnet. The man knew what he was doing. All Turner had to do now was sit back and let him do it.
Oh, the blood bath in September would be such sweet revenge. Too long HRT had been considered the Miss America pageant of networks. While his rivals had acknowledged Young Justyn’s knack for scoring the hottest talent available, they done little more than give the new schedule a nice pat on the head and say “How adorable”.
“Adorable is about to rip them all a new one.” He said to himself.
Turner swiveled the chair in his penthouse office around to gaze outside. He hadn’t felt this sure and this confident since he couldn’t remember when…yes he could. It was a long time ago…
…Somehow Lucille had done it again. It wasn’t a huge premiere. There wasn’t a big company with endless pockets to back it up. None of the stars or the director were household names, but some how Lucille had managed to pack the place with as many big names as she could cajole, beg or blackmail into being there.
There hadn’t been an empty seat in the house. He had to admit while standing in the back of the house waiting for “Breathe” to begin, he was holding his breath. The crowd was restless and noisy, barely noticing that the movie had begun.
It didn’t take long, before they grew silent. At first he thought it might just be respect for someone who might actually want to see it.
Then she appeared on the screen, and as many times as he’d already seen it, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He was transfixed, and as soon as he was able again to take his eyes away, he knew the audience was transfixed, too. And then not just by her, but by the movie itself. He’d done well.
And now he stood in the midst of everyone in the ballroom rented for the after party. Every phone in town must have been busy during the screening because suddenly all of Hollywood was trying to crash the wet bar. They had done it, damn; they’d managed to pull it out of the fire.
“You look like the fat feline with yellow feathers in his mouth.” Someone said from behind him.
He turned to see the face with the voice. Lucille stood dutifully arm in arm with her husband James. “Well, Mr. Turner looks like our labor of love has paid off.”
David put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Well, Mr. Redfield, I think we can both rest easy tonight.”
Lucille looked around him. “Where is she?”
They panicked. “She was right here just a moment ago.” Turner searched the room with his eyes frantically.
“Calm down.” Redfield tried to calm them. “She’s probably hiding in the bathroom. She’s scared to death, poor thing.”
“I’ll go get her.” Lucille smirked. “Scared or not, she needs to be seen.” Before she headed for the john she hissed at Turner. “And as soon as I drag that idiot back here, don’t let her out of your sight until we figure out what to do with her.”
“What to do with her?” Turner asked.
“One wrong word to the wrong person, hell to the right person and this night of triumph turns into a nightmare.” Lucille just had to remind him.
Despite the wall-to-wall superstar, it didn’t take Lucille long to get back from the facilities. “She’s not in there.”
“What?”
“Find her, damn it, find that woman!” Lucille snarled as quietly as possible. “It can’t be hard to find a moron in the room.”
“Oh great, we have to find the beagle in a room full of brown and white puppies.” Redfield looked as discreetly as possible around the ballroom.
Turner saw a familiar face. He grabbed the man’s arm. “Herman, have you seen your sister?”
“No, not recently.” Lucille gave him a look that made the man panic. “Look she’s scared to death, always hated crowds and attention. She’s just found a corner to hide in. You should know she does that by now.”
“Great.” Lucille said. “We’ve got our new star trembling behind the drapes. I’m not paying for the dry cleaning if she blows her nose on them.”
Elysian pointed. “There she is.”
“Where?” Turner craned his neck to see where he was pointing.
“On the bandstand.”
“I’ll go get her.” Redfield volunteered.
“No.” Turner put up his hand. “Let me.”
“Hurry, before she gets away. Hedda Hopper’s here, the last person on Earth you want her talking to, and you know that bitch wants to talk to her.” Lucille shoved him in the direction of the bandstand.
“She’ll be fine.” Herman defended his sister. “She’s loves music. It calms her down. She’s probably just enjoying it.” He grabbed Turner’s arm. “Let me go with you, just in case she is having another meltdown. I can usually keep her calm.”
“Then go.” Lucille urged them on with her hands. “Don’t talk about defusing the bomb when it’s about to go off. Just choose a color and yank the wire…NOW!”
She was so glad there was music. She loved music. She had made her way near the band and was swaying back and forth humming to the song. How she wanted to get closer to it and farther away from them.
Well, most of them. They kept making her do things she didn’t want to do. That woman was the worst of all. She was mean and she frightened her. The two men were sweet though, and she kept letting them talk her into doing want the mean woman wanted. She couldn’t help it if it kept making her cry.
She hated that monstrosity they called a camera. It kept getting too close and every time she would start to enjoy herself, it would be there. It was horrible.
But the bandstand had a bright silvery microphone. She’d always liked microphones. Her Daddy would never let her near one.
“Music is of the devil. It will drag you down to hell with it.” He would say anytime he heard he sing.
She was glad no one noticed her step up on the stage. The man at the piano had smiled at her, so she stepped right up and sat down beside him. He never missed a beat; his fingers kept right on running across the keyboard.
When she heard a few people giggle, she almost got up and ran but the piano man said, “You stay right there, hon. This is your night. Enjoy it.”
It made her feel so warm inside. She didn’t know what he meant, but she thought it meant she could stay where she was. So she did. The man nodded his head and started playing another song.
It was so beautiful she forgot she was somewhere she shouldn’t be. She did know that her Daddy wasn’t anywhere near anymore. Herman had taken her away from that awful man. Remembering that made her smile and close her eyes.
Then she started to sing. She knew all the words and sang right along. It felt so nice. It felt so good. She hadn’t felt that way in a long, long time.
They had managed to make their way to the bandstand. Herman and David, James and Lucille not far behind, had managed to get there without anyone noticing they were desperate to get to the new starlet. Another few steps and either David or Herman could speak quietly to her, hopefully getting her to take an arm and not let go for the rest of the night.
David was about to reach up to her when, again, a hand grabbed his arm.
“Wait.” Lucille said. She nodded her head toward the shy bird on the piano stool. “Listen.”
Turner turned his ear toward the stage. His eyes grew wide and he shot a glance toward Redfield and his wife.
Lucille was smiling. “I think I know what to do with her.”
“What?” Her husband whispered.
“We can keep this up.” The woman was almost smiling, something Turner wasn’t sure he’d ever seen. “Who knows where this could take us?”
She opened her eyes and saw them looking at her. She knew they would make her stop so she was going to enjoy this as long as she could. Surely, they’d at least wait for the song to end before they dragged her back.
“You have a beautiful voice, my dear.” The piano man said.
“Thank you. I like to sing.” She blushed and said quietly. “You play beautifully.”
“Well, I am Ralston Scott. That’s what they pay me to do.”
“Okay.” She had no idea what he meant, but she glanced down at the mean lady and that nice man her brother called Dave. She knew her safe time was almost up.
“Sing something else.” The piano man said.
“Me?”
“Of course you.”
“Alright. What should I sing?”
“Anything you want.” He said.
She looked to see if they were frowning, but that silvery microphone got in the way. She pointed at it. “Can I sing there?”
“Of course.” The piano man seemed to think that was a funny thing to say.
She didn’t care. She got up and went right to that microphone. “Uhm…”
The boom of her voice suddenly made everyone in the room stop and look at her. At first it scared her, but she reached out and held on to the silver. She turned to the piano man and asked. “Do you know ‘Ever After Blue Sky’?”
“I should. I wrote it.”
“Okay.” She said.
There was some laughter, but it was not going to make her run this time. She was going to sing. She heard the notes of her favorite song and closed her eyes.
When her mouth opened she could hear herself clear and strong. It was wonderful. When she opened her eyes no one was laughing, but they were all looking at her. They were all looking at her and she could feel how much they liked her song. It made her want to sing more. She did.
They applauded. They applauded her when she finished. She couldn’t believe it. She just stood there and smiled. She didn’t know what else to do.
“Tell us your name again, hon,” The piano man said making her turn her head to him.
“My name is…”
He motioned for her to turn around and say her name in the silvery microphone so everyone could hear. “My name is…I…”
They caught her eye. Those three people and her brother were standing right there in front of her. The mean woman frowned, but the man named Dave smiled and nodded is head.
She remembered.
“My name is Darla…Darla Hutton.”
And Dave knew without a doubt, that a star was born.
Vignette #217: Nervous Breakdowns
Ronnie grabbed her hand. “Come on, he’s over there!” He pointed and practically dragged Miss Glo and her wheel chair in that direction.
Ian was dressed in a blue double-breasted suit, Miss Glo recognized Bill Blass when she saw it. He was standing beside the curt women who hosted the morning program on HRT. Gloria didn’t watch it because she just didn’t care for her at all. She reminded her of a constipated nun with no sense of humor and not happy about it. She couldn’t believe she was actually going to watch it live.
She had thought about faking a seizure, but being anywhere near these people was so much better than being in that nursing home. She longed for the day she could leave it entirely. Damn that Ian Justyn, he’d given her a reason to get up in the morning, even though half of her body would never get up again.
Ian saw them approaching and lit up.
“Hey buddy.” Ian bent down and gave his son a hug and a kiss. “Do you remember Miss Gleason?” He asked him.
“Yes.” Ronnie said as if rehearsed. “It is so good to see you again, ma’am.” The lady stretched a half second smile and turned her head away.
“Morning dew on my nose damn it!” She put her hands on her hips. “Make up, I said fucking morning dew!” And stomped off.
“Morning dew to you, too.” Ronnie mocked and rolled his eyes.
Ripley, never far way from Ian, stifled a smile but smacked the kid lightly on the back of the head.
“Sorry, Uncle Ripley, but she’s just not a nice person.” Ronnie got excited. “Papa, papa…” he grabbed Miss Glo’s hand. “Look who’s come to watch you.”
Ian smiled and bent down to kiss Miss Glo’s good hand. “Miss Glo, I’m so honored you came.”
“Bite…me…” She said as half her face smiled. “Hate…show…”
“Which is why I’m glad you’re here.” He stayed at her eye level. “I’ve taken great pains to fill the live audience with people who think the show sucks.”
“Are you gonna sit with us, Papa?” Ronnie bounced from beside the chair.
“Once we get the show going I’ll do my best, Puppy. I’ll be bouncing around a lot. This is a big day for me. I am so glad you are both here though.” He kissed his son on the top of the head.
“Miss Claire’s already in her seat.”
“Tell her thank you for me and I’ll try to get out during one of the commercial breaks. Ripley, why don’t you go keep m’seat warm?”
“Are you sure?” He asked as Ronnie took his hand.
“Please, no need for you to stand around and wonder if I’m going to hyperventilate.”
Obviously not wanting to leave the man’s side, Ripley nodded his head anyway. “Com’mon then. Miss Glo, do you need some help?”
The woman deftly wrapped a finger around a lever and the wheelchair smoothly backed up. “Do…good.”
Zaundra Gleason bellowed. “Damn it Ian, get your ass over here…NOW!”
Ian rolled his eyes and started toward the pseudo-atomic blast. Miss Glo’s wheelchair suddenly whipped around and blocked him. He almost lost his balance and had to catch himself on the arms of her chair.
“Miss Glo?”
She looked him right in the eyes easily since now they were literally eye to eye. “You…good?”
“I’m fine.” He couldn’t help but read the concern in her eyes. “Honestly. I’ve checked my sugar and feeling better than I have in actually….years. I honestly didn’t know how bad I felt until I felt good again.”
Ian kissed her fingers and touched her face. Her eyes smiled despite the frown on the half of her face that worked.
“Justyn…fucking NOW!”
“Fire…her…” With that, Miss Glo was off on her mechanical way.
Ian watched her disappear. He took a deep breath and calmly strolled over to a steaming Zaundra Gleason. “Zaundra, watch your mouth.”
“Shut the fuck up…” she snarled. “We have a problem.”
“You just got a fine.” Ian looked at Wella who was standing there with a clipboard. “$250 from the bitch’s paycheck…make that $150…” he turned back to Zaundra. “And what is the problem now?”
“Senator Bellson is stuck in traffic. We have to rearrange.”
“That’s not a problem. We’ll do the Tippy intro first and….” Looking at the clipboard and where Wella was pointing on it. “…Yeah I like that, a quick headline recap at the top of every hour instead of ten minutes after then go right to the cooking sequence. We’ll clip along as planned, plugging the senator in when he arrives.”
“I don’t like that…I will not start the day with an asinine segment of an over the hill Miss America teaching people how to make cheesecake!” she snapped.
“That’s the way it’s going to be Zaundra…and before you open your mouth I don’t care if you don’t like it, suck it up and do it!” Ian calmly looked at the diva. “And let me remind you, your new contract doesn’t kick in until the camera hits your face. One more outburst and not only will that contract be null and void but I’ll see to it your face hits the camera on the way out.”
“Places people! We are rolling credits in five…four…three…” and the music started.
Tippy slipped up behind Ian and kissed him on the back of the neck. “Pearce is on the set, you ready Baby Doll?”
“Who gives a shit about him?” Zaundra whispered. “Tuck that cleavage in. You look like a whore.”
“That does it.” Ian motioned for the stage manager as the new theme music reached a crescendo. “Dougie, get this woman off my set.”
“You can’t do that, I’m about to go on.” Zaundra said.
“Not any more…you’re fired!” Zaundra’s eyes got huge. “Get her off this property, in her own words…now!”
Dougie grabbed Zaundra by the arm and lead her away, Zaundra quietly protesting. Ian turned to Tippy “Congrats, Miss America, you just got a job…”
“Huh?” she said
The audience was applauding and the director pointed at Pearce who said, “And welcome to “America Alive!” this morning from the heart of Hollywood where legends are born and never die.”
More applause. “I’m Pearce Warner, I’ll be with you this and every morning for the months to come. Won’t you join me in welcoming my co-host…” Pearce was rattled a minute as he read the cue card being shaken from behind the camera… “Tippy Shores!”
The audience, mostly friends and neighbors roared. Tippy turned to Ian. “Baby Doll, I’m taking you down with me…” she grabbed Ian’s arm and pulled him out in front of the camera with her as she graciously walked to the chairs beside Pearce, Ian trying to not look like a deer in the headlights.
“Thank you so much, and may I have the privilege of introducing the man behind it all, he’ll be here all week with us…” she lowered her voice slightly “…or I’ll kill him…” the audience howled, “Ian Justyn.”
Ian just smiled and held out a chair for Tippy to be seated in. He knew he wasn’t mic’d as well as he knew there would be ninety seconds of banter and then a cut to the first pre taped tour. Tippy and Pearce actually seemed to connect. Ian was thunderstruck. Suddenly he felt Tippy grab him by the tie. “At least say hello, Baby Doll…”
“No mic…” He said.
She pulled him over at the waist and hoisted her mic’d boobs toward him. “Now say something.”
“Good morning from the mountains?” The audience howled and Pearce almost fell off his chair laughing.
Tippy fluffed her hair and looked poised. “Some one get this man a chair…and pull it real close to me...” she changed the position of her face to the camera that now had the green light. “Now that we’re all charged up, let’s start the morning off with a little peek at some of the homes and legends right here on the street we are broadcasting from.”
“We are live all week long from Tippy’s own back yard, once the home of the legendary Darla Hutton…”
“Actually Pearce, that’s incorrect. This was actually the home of James Redfield, most of the original structure that Darla and husband Oscar winning director David Turner shared is next door. Let’s take a look as I get a lesson in what really happened in my own backyard from 1930 to 1960.”
“And we’re out…” the director called. “We’ve got 5 and then another 90 second tease before first break.
The audience applauded and Pearce laughed his ass off while someone feverishly started clipping a lavaliere on Ian. Ian slipped an earplug in. “Stan? Kill any part of the teasers with Zaundra…I don’t care throw holy water on them, she’s gone…”
Tippy turned to Pearce. “Threw a few hissy fits and he fired her.”
“I told her not to mess with him…” Pearce said.
“I’m afraid I’m it for now, Sugar, so let’s just relax and have some fun.” Tippy smiled. She waved at Ronnie who waved back and threw her a kiss.
Ian stuck his finger on the earplug. “Stan, kill the teasers all together, just get shots of the audience and the action…yeah, remind ‘em that we’re live, just point at anything fun, or interesting…”
“Or hot…” Tippy added.
It seemed like the shortest five minutes in history, people running around adjusting lights and angles to include a third unexpected body on the set. The live audience seemed glued to the monitor running the tour piece.
“And we’re back.”
Pearce smiled at the camera. “We’re going to take a short break and then Tippy is going to show the bachelor here how to make a simple but tasty cheesecake.”
“Mmmm…chocolate…” she smiled.
Ian jumped in “And later in the hour, Senator Harlan Bellson will be here…”
“Traffic permitting…” Tippy added.
“Traffic permitting…to talk about his candidacy for the office of President of the United States.”
“We’re playing it by ear today folks, so come back at watch us all have nervous breakdowns!” Tippy grinned with energy.
Pearce broke up again. “God, I love this gig. Come on back as soon as you can…”
“And clear…”
Pearce got up and kissed Tippy on the cheek. “I love you…okay I’m over here you’re over there.”
“Gotcha…” Tippy grabbed Ian by the arm. “You, my favorite hunk, you’re with me.”
As Pearce passed by Ian he whispered in his ear. “She’s a keeper…please please please!” And went over to the area they had set up for news.
“Hey…” as he realized Tippy was dragging him over to the kitchen area. “I’m just the decoration…”
“And you’re very pretty, but I need you here…” she said.
“Tippy you’ve done this before...”
“But I’ve never done this…” and she pointed to the ingredients on the counter. “This is your specialty...you let me be the hostess and teach me how to do it.”
“Tippy, you’ve….”
“Two words…Zaundra Gleason…” she glared at him.
“You’ll make her look positively charming, won’t you?”
She smiled and pinched his cheek. “You’re so smart.”
“And we’re back!”
“Just to keep the fun going I have a special treat for you.” Tippy smiled. “Ian, take off your clothes…”
Ian started undoing his tie. The audience and the crew cheered. They could hear Pearce cracking up across the patio. Tippy helped him take his jacket off. “That’s enough Baby Doll; we’ll save the rest when we need the big ratings.”
“You’re no fun!”
“Yes I am…oh I forgot there were people watching. Where were we? Oh yes…” Tippy giggled. “Now I have a houseful of boys, so it’s seems that I’ve been stuck with all the cooking…”
“Or Inez has…” Ian threw in.
Tippy hit him playfully with a wooden spoon, “…so I was thrilled when this hot little number moved in next door and preceded to cook us all under the table. Ladies, he’s single, good lookin and can cook…”
“…And not half bad in the kitchen.” More cheers came from the audience.
“So we’re going to let him show us his specialty…”
“Tippy, please.” Ian feigned embarrassment. “This is network television, not cable.”
“…Dark chocolate cheesecake.”
“It’s actually very simple and easy. Guys you can impress anyone with this…”
“Believe me, it’s a culinary orgasm…” Tippy smiled and then put her hand to her mouth. “Oh shit, can you say orgasm on live morning television?”
“Yes…but you can’t say oh shit….”
It was that moment Ian was thankful for the five-second delay and knew the world had fallen in love with Tippy Shores, all over again. The rest of the program went of with only one other hitch. Just as the Senator was arriving Pearce ran off for a potty break and accidentally locked himself in a closet.
Tippy was informed on the air and cracked, “In the closet? I thought that door got thrown open a couple of years ago” and then introduced the Senator. The director panicked and urged Ian to go sit in and do the interview, but Ian had confidence in Tippy.
At first the Senator treated her like a dumb Miss America, but she soon had him impressed with her intelligence, grilling him on important issues and not letting him off the hook until he gave a straight forward answer that “we normal people can understand and accept.”
She even asked him if he had been affected by the war. He hemmed and hawed finally telling her that she wouldn’t understand. Tippy charmingly disemboweled him on the air, telling him that her son had served on the front lines and been given two purple hearts so never to assume that she wouldn’t understand.
Tippy then ended the interview by telling him that he was very assumptive and wanted to know if he thought that was a good qualification for President. She ended the interview with a humble thank you and patting him on the knee, telling him sweetly he had a “lot of work to do” and tossed it to commercial.
The Senator was outraged and demanded her termination. Ian simply thanked him for the interview and told him in the future he should be more careful whom he thought was a dumb broad before he made as ass of himself on national television.
When the last “We’re clear” came through there were cheers everywhere. The trio of Pearce, Tippy and Ian were relieved, laughing and patting each other on the back. Ian’s phone rang almost immediately with a call from David Turner who told him that the phones had been jammed with viewers gushing at how much they loved the new format. It was a shock to what they were used to, but so much more fun and energetic than what they were used to watching.
By the time he got off the phone to tell the crew, Tippy, Pearce and company were already replanning the next day. Ian tossed out “Looks like we’re a hit” and promptly called legal to send down a contract for Tippy.
Ian was dressed in a blue double-breasted suit, Miss Glo recognized Bill Blass when she saw it. He was standing beside the curt women who hosted the morning program on HRT. Gloria didn’t watch it because she just didn’t care for her at all. She reminded her of a constipated nun with no sense of humor and not happy about it. She couldn’t believe she was actually going to watch it live.
She had thought about faking a seizure, but being anywhere near these people was so much better than being in that nursing home. She longed for the day she could leave it entirely. Damn that Ian Justyn, he’d given her a reason to get up in the morning, even though half of her body would never get up again.
Ian saw them approaching and lit up.
“Hey buddy.” Ian bent down and gave his son a hug and a kiss. “Do you remember Miss Gleason?” He asked him.
“Yes.” Ronnie said as if rehearsed. “It is so good to see you again, ma’am.” The lady stretched a half second smile and turned her head away.
“Morning dew on my nose damn it!” She put her hands on her hips. “Make up, I said fucking morning dew!” And stomped off.
“Morning dew to you, too.” Ronnie mocked and rolled his eyes.
Ripley, never far way from Ian, stifled a smile but smacked the kid lightly on the back of the head.
“Sorry, Uncle Ripley, but she’s just not a nice person.” Ronnie got excited. “Papa, papa…” he grabbed Miss Glo’s hand. “Look who’s come to watch you.”
Ian smiled and bent down to kiss Miss Glo’s good hand. “Miss Glo, I’m so honored you came.”
“Bite…me…” She said as half her face smiled. “Hate…show…”
“Which is why I’m glad you’re here.” He stayed at her eye level. “I’ve taken great pains to fill the live audience with people who think the show sucks.”
“Are you gonna sit with us, Papa?” Ronnie bounced from beside the chair.
“Once we get the show going I’ll do my best, Puppy. I’ll be bouncing around a lot. This is a big day for me. I am so glad you are both here though.” He kissed his son on the top of the head.
“Miss Claire’s already in her seat.”
“Tell her thank you for me and I’ll try to get out during one of the commercial breaks. Ripley, why don’t you go keep m’seat warm?”
“Are you sure?” He asked as Ronnie took his hand.
“Please, no need for you to stand around and wonder if I’m going to hyperventilate.”
Obviously not wanting to leave the man’s side, Ripley nodded his head anyway. “Com’mon then. Miss Glo, do you need some help?”
The woman deftly wrapped a finger around a lever and the wheelchair smoothly backed up. “Do…good.”
Zaundra Gleason bellowed. “Damn it Ian, get your ass over here…NOW!”
Ian rolled his eyes and started toward the pseudo-atomic blast. Miss Glo’s wheelchair suddenly whipped around and blocked him. He almost lost his balance and had to catch himself on the arms of her chair.
“Miss Glo?”
She looked him right in the eyes easily since now they were literally eye to eye. “You…good?”
“I’m fine.” He couldn’t help but read the concern in her eyes. “Honestly. I’ve checked my sugar and feeling better than I have in actually….years. I honestly didn’t know how bad I felt until I felt good again.”
Ian kissed her fingers and touched her face. Her eyes smiled despite the frown on the half of her face that worked.
“Justyn…fucking NOW!”
“Fire…her…” With that, Miss Glo was off on her mechanical way.
Ian watched her disappear. He took a deep breath and calmly strolled over to a steaming Zaundra Gleason. “Zaundra, watch your mouth.”
“Shut the fuck up…” she snarled. “We have a problem.”
“You just got a fine.” Ian looked at Wella who was standing there with a clipboard. “$250 from the bitch’s paycheck…make that $150…” he turned back to Zaundra. “And what is the problem now?”
“Senator Bellson is stuck in traffic. We have to rearrange.”
“That’s not a problem. We’ll do the Tippy intro first and….” Looking at the clipboard and where Wella was pointing on it. “…Yeah I like that, a quick headline recap at the top of every hour instead of ten minutes after then go right to the cooking sequence. We’ll clip along as planned, plugging the senator in when he arrives.”
“I don’t like that…I will not start the day with an asinine segment of an over the hill Miss America teaching people how to make cheesecake!” she snapped.
“That’s the way it’s going to be Zaundra…and before you open your mouth I don’t care if you don’t like it, suck it up and do it!” Ian calmly looked at the diva. “And let me remind you, your new contract doesn’t kick in until the camera hits your face. One more outburst and not only will that contract be null and void but I’ll see to it your face hits the camera on the way out.”
“Places people! We are rolling credits in five…four…three…” and the music started.
Tippy slipped up behind Ian and kissed him on the back of the neck. “Pearce is on the set, you ready Baby Doll?”
“Who gives a shit about him?” Zaundra whispered. “Tuck that cleavage in. You look like a whore.”
“That does it.” Ian motioned for the stage manager as the new theme music reached a crescendo. “Dougie, get this woman off my set.”
“You can’t do that, I’m about to go on.” Zaundra said.
“Not any more…you’re fired!” Zaundra’s eyes got huge. “Get her off this property, in her own words…now!”
Dougie grabbed Zaundra by the arm and lead her away, Zaundra quietly protesting. Ian turned to Tippy “Congrats, Miss America, you just got a job…”
“Huh?” she said
The audience was applauding and the director pointed at Pearce who said, “And welcome to “America Alive!” this morning from the heart of Hollywood where legends are born and never die.”
More applause. “I’m Pearce Warner, I’ll be with you this and every morning for the months to come. Won’t you join me in welcoming my co-host…” Pearce was rattled a minute as he read the cue card being shaken from behind the camera… “Tippy Shores!”
The audience, mostly friends and neighbors roared. Tippy turned to Ian. “Baby Doll, I’m taking you down with me…” she grabbed Ian’s arm and pulled him out in front of the camera with her as she graciously walked to the chairs beside Pearce, Ian trying to not look like a deer in the headlights.
“Thank you so much, and may I have the privilege of introducing the man behind it all, he’ll be here all week with us…” she lowered her voice slightly “…or I’ll kill him…” the audience howled, “Ian Justyn.”
Ian just smiled and held out a chair for Tippy to be seated in. He knew he wasn’t mic’d as well as he knew there would be ninety seconds of banter and then a cut to the first pre taped tour. Tippy and Pearce actually seemed to connect. Ian was thunderstruck. Suddenly he felt Tippy grab him by the tie. “At least say hello, Baby Doll…”
“No mic…” He said.
She pulled him over at the waist and hoisted her mic’d boobs toward him. “Now say something.”
“Good morning from the mountains?” The audience howled and Pearce almost fell off his chair laughing.
Tippy fluffed her hair and looked poised. “Some one get this man a chair…and pull it real close to me...” she changed the position of her face to the camera that now had the green light. “Now that we’re all charged up, let’s start the morning off with a little peek at some of the homes and legends right here on the street we are broadcasting from.”
“We are live all week long from Tippy’s own back yard, once the home of the legendary Darla Hutton…”
“Actually Pearce, that’s incorrect. This was actually the home of James Redfield, most of the original structure that Darla and husband Oscar winning director David Turner shared is next door. Let’s take a look as I get a lesson in what really happened in my own backyard from 1930 to 1960.”
“And we’re out…” the director called. “We’ve got 5 and then another 90 second tease before first break.
The audience applauded and Pearce laughed his ass off while someone feverishly started clipping a lavaliere on Ian. Ian slipped an earplug in. “Stan? Kill any part of the teasers with Zaundra…I don’t care throw holy water on them, she’s gone…”
Tippy turned to Pearce. “Threw a few hissy fits and he fired her.”
“I told her not to mess with him…” Pearce said.
“I’m afraid I’m it for now, Sugar, so let’s just relax and have some fun.” Tippy smiled. She waved at Ronnie who waved back and threw her a kiss.
Ian stuck his finger on the earplug. “Stan, kill the teasers all together, just get shots of the audience and the action…yeah, remind ‘em that we’re live, just point at anything fun, or interesting…”
“Or hot…” Tippy added.
It seemed like the shortest five minutes in history, people running around adjusting lights and angles to include a third unexpected body on the set. The live audience seemed glued to the monitor running the tour piece.
“And we’re back.”
Pearce smiled at the camera. “We’re going to take a short break and then Tippy is going to show the bachelor here how to make a simple but tasty cheesecake.”
“Mmmm…chocolate…” she smiled.
Ian jumped in “And later in the hour, Senator Harlan Bellson will be here…”
“Traffic permitting…” Tippy added.
“Traffic permitting…to talk about his candidacy for the office of President of the United States.”
“We’re playing it by ear today folks, so come back at watch us all have nervous breakdowns!” Tippy grinned with energy.
Pearce broke up again. “God, I love this gig. Come on back as soon as you can…”
“And clear…”
Pearce got up and kissed Tippy on the cheek. “I love you…okay I’m over here you’re over there.”
“Gotcha…” Tippy grabbed Ian by the arm. “You, my favorite hunk, you’re with me.”
As Pearce passed by Ian he whispered in his ear. “She’s a keeper…please please please!” And went over to the area they had set up for news.
“Hey…” as he realized Tippy was dragging him over to the kitchen area. “I’m just the decoration…”
“And you’re very pretty, but I need you here…” she said.
“Tippy you’ve done this before...”
“But I’ve never done this…” and she pointed to the ingredients on the counter. “This is your specialty...you let me be the hostess and teach me how to do it.”
“Tippy, you’ve….”
“Two words…Zaundra Gleason…” she glared at him.
“You’ll make her look positively charming, won’t you?”
She smiled and pinched his cheek. “You’re so smart.”
“And we’re back!”
“Just to keep the fun going I have a special treat for you.” Tippy smiled. “Ian, take off your clothes…”
Ian started undoing his tie. The audience and the crew cheered. They could hear Pearce cracking up across the patio. Tippy helped him take his jacket off. “That’s enough Baby Doll; we’ll save the rest when we need the big ratings.”
“You’re no fun!”
“Yes I am…oh I forgot there were people watching. Where were we? Oh yes…” Tippy giggled. “Now I have a houseful of boys, so it’s seems that I’ve been stuck with all the cooking…”
“Or Inez has…” Ian threw in.
Tippy hit him playfully with a wooden spoon, “…so I was thrilled when this hot little number moved in next door and preceded to cook us all under the table. Ladies, he’s single, good lookin and can cook…”
“…And not half bad in the kitchen.” More cheers came from the audience.
“So we’re going to let him show us his specialty…”
“Tippy, please.” Ian feigned embarrassment. “This is network television, not cable.”
“…Dark chocolate cheesecake.”
“It’s actually very simple and easy. Guys you can impress anyone with this…”
“Believe me, it’s a culinary orgasm…” Tippy smiled and then put her hand to her mouth. “Oh shit, can you say orgasm on live morning television?”
“Yes…but you can’t say oh shit….”
It was that moment Ian was thankful for the five-second delay and knew the world had fallen in love with Tippy Shores, all over again. The rest of the program went of with only one other hitch. Just as the Senator was arriving Pearce ran off for a potty break and accidentally locked himself in a closet.
Tippy was informed on the air and cracked, “In the closet? I thought that door got thrown open a couple of years ago” and then introduced the Senator. The director panicked and urged Ian to go sit in and do the interview, but Ian had confidence in Tippy.
At first the Senator treated her like a dumb Miss America, but she soon had him impressed with her intelligence, grilling him on important issues and not letting him off the hook until he gave a straight forward answer that “we normal people can understand and accept.”
She even asked him if he had been affected by the war. He hemmed and hawed finally telling her that she wouldn’t understand. Tippy charmingly disemboweled him on the air, telling him that her son had served on the front lines and been given two purple hearts so never to assume that she wouldn’t understand.
Tippy then ended the interview by telling him that he was very assumptive and wanted to know if he thought that was a good qualification for President. She ended the interview with a humble thank you and patting him on the knee, telling him sweetly he had a “lot of work to do” and tossed it to commercial.
The Senator was outraged and demanded her termination. Ian simply thanked him for the interview and told him in the future he should be more careful whom he thought was a dumb broad before he made as ass of himself on national television.
When the last “We’re clear” came through there were cheers everywhere. The trio of Pearce, Tippy and Ian were relieved, laughing and patting each other on the back. Ian’s phone rang almost immediately with a call from David Turner who told him that the phones had been jammed with viewers gushing at how much they loved the new format. It was a shock to what they were used to, but so much more fun and energetic than what they were used to watching.
By the time he got off the phone to tell the crew, Tippy, Pearce and company were already replanning the next day. Ian tossed out “Looks like we’re a hit” and promptly called legal to send down a contract for Tippy.
Vignette #216: Life Sucks
Vonnie had her cat draped over one arm and her “Hello Kitty” purse draped over the other. “Now Percy, we’re going over to Uncle Ian’s house. Granny and Poppy are having some kind of TV show here and for some reason they only want humans around. You can spend the day with your sister. She’s calmed down now that Uncle Ian’s home so you should be fine.”
She was almost to the back door when she remembered something else. “Oh, and the mean fat lady will be over here in the back yard so that’s another plus for you.” She hefted the seemingly spineless and happy cat a little. “I hope that lady has the baby soon or I’m gonna hafta kill ‘er.”
“Young lady!” She heard the scolding tone behind her.
Vonnie froze and whispered to Percy. "Uh oh." The tot slowly turned around to face her accuser.
“Have you been in your Uncle’s room?” The housekeeper stood before her holding three manila envelopes.
“I never go into any one’s room unless I’m invited.” Vonnie looked up and smiled innocently. When the housekeeper tapped her foot and cleared her throat she added, less innocently, “Or when I’m bored and they leave the door open.”
“Did you by any chance get bored and wander through your Uncle Jesse’s bedroom door this morning?”
“No, Miss Inez. I swear.” Vonnie blinked.
“Then why did I find this unopened mail in his trash can?”
“I don’t know.”
“I suppose these just fell off his desk and into the trash can themselves?” She waived the mailers at her.
“Miss Inez, I’m only four. I don’t understand the dynamics of physics. Perhaps you should speak with some one older if you need some help in that department.” Vonnie said, instantly knowing by the look on the woman’s face that her comment didn’t come out as adorable as she’d hoped it would.
“Vonda Rae Jarvis, I’d watch my…”
“Is there a problem, Inez?”
The woman gave Vonnie the fearful “I’m spilling the beans” look, giving the little girl only a moment to figure out how to prove her innocence. “Mr. Jesse, I’m afraid the young one here has been playing in your room without permission again.”
Her uncle shot Vonnie a look, and she knew she was safe. “Vonnie doesn’t need permission to go in my room when the door is open. We have a little deal. She’s allowed to use my portable DVR player until she saves up her allowance to buy one of her own.”
“It’s in the bottom drawer of his desk.” Vonnie grinned at the housekeeper with pride. “He trusts me with it. I won’t drop it and break it and hide it in the trash can like you do when you break the good glasses.”
Inez smirked at the four year old, determined to get her for that last remark. “Then why…” She placed the trio of envelopes in Jesse’s hands. “…Did I find your unopened mail in the trash can?” She grinned down at Vonnie, knowing she’d finally scored.
“Because I put them there.” Jesse shocked the housekeeper with his comment.
“Why would you do something like that?”
“Actually, Inez, what I do and don’t do with my mail is none of your business.” Jesse did his best not to be cross. “I understand your thinking there was some kind of mistake and appreciate your bringing it to my attention.”
“Of course, Mr. Jesse.”
“You’ve been with us a long time, Inez. I don’t understand this sudden need to be accusatory. If you think there is a problem, bring it to the attention of the person it concerns, please don’t ever bring it to the attention of someone else first.”
“Of course, Mr. Jesse.”
“Now, exactly what were you doing in my room without permission?”
The tables had turned and Vonnie was enjoying seeing the woman squirm.
“Well…I…” Inez cleared her throat. “Miss Tippy wanted me to make sure all the trash cans were emptied in case one of the crew needed to use the facilities…sir.”
“I appreciate your being thorough, Inez, but I’m sure the crew will have no need to wander up to the third floor to pee.”
“Yes, sir. It won’t happen again, Mr. Jesse.” Inez took her leave and wandered off mumbling in Spanish.
“Do you understand Spanish, Uncle Jesse?” Vonnie looked up in relief and smiled.
“Yes, but apparently Inez doesn’t know that.”
“What’s she saying?”
“I’ll tell you when you’re older.” Jesse bent over and gave her a hug. “Does she give you a hard time, Sweetheart?”
“Uncle Jesse, I’m four.” She sighed. “Let’s face it, that always makes it my fault.”
“I understand. Until you came along, I was the youngest in this house.” He pushed a hair off her face and kissed her forehead. “It really, really sucks sometimes.”
“S’okay, I can handle it.” Vonnie sighed and hoisted the kitty up in her arms. “But when I grow up and rule the world, the first thing I’m gonna do is have that woman deported.”
Jesse laughed. “I thought the first thing you were going to do was marry Ronnie.”
“Oh that’s just gonna happen, Miss Inez…I’m gonna make happen.” She turned to leave.
“Uhm…where exactly do you think your going?” He asked.
She turned and gave him the old “Not you, too” look. “I’m takin’ Percy over to Uncle Ian’s. Granny’s afraid Percy’ll get in the way.”
“Tell you what, why don’t we just put Percy in your room and close the door?”
“My rooms on the first floor. I ain’t worked my way up to the Penhouse yet. Them Goobers with cables done let him out three times already.”
“Tell you what, let’s make Miss Inez crazy. You take Percy up to my room and shut the door. Move the litter box in there with some food and water. He’ll be nice and cozy.”
Vonnie grinned. “’Kay.”
The little one scampered off, cat in tow as Jesse looked at the envelopes in his hands. He rolled his eyes and dumped them for the second time in the trash.
“Junk mail?” He startled at the voice suddenly behind him.
“What?” He said as he spun around.
“Didn’t mean to startle you.” Claire looked miserable. “I just came in where it’s cooler. I know the audience is supposed to be outside, but for 5 A.M. it’s effing hot out there.”
“You being pretty effing pregnant probably has a lot to do with it.” Jesse smiled at her. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“No thanks. That’ll just make me hafta pee, again.” She sighed as she lifted herself down into the nearest chair. “One of these kids has discovered how to squeeze my bladder.”
Jesse grinned ear to ear. “I still can’t believe your going to have twins. We should have guessed.”
“Do twins run in your family?”
“No, but it explains why you’re bigger than Disneyland.” The nasty look Claire gave him made Jesse try and lighten her mood. “Hey, now you can run out and buy two of everything…I know how you love to shop.”
“You do it then.” She snarled.
“Just trying to make you smile, Claire.” Jesse pouted.
“You wanna make me smile, Jesse?” Claire tried to get comfortable in the easy chair. “Reach in my uterus and yank these kids out for me.”
Claire caught a whiff of her mood. “Sorry, Jesse. I know you are trying to be kind, but right now I am hot and sweaty and soooo sick of being pregnant.”
“Well, on the bright side the doctor did say you could go at any time.”
“A week ago…exactly how long is ‘any time now’ in California?” Claire moaned. “Okay, let’s change the subject maybe that will get me out of this mood. So why are you throwing your unopened mail away?”
Jesse looked down at the envelopes in the trash. “Actually one is opened, I assume the others are the same so I’m not bothering.”
“I repeat myself.” She said. “Junk mail?”
“Sort of.” Jesse squirmed a little. “Someone’s idea of a joke. Three identical manila envelopes, no return address, I opened the first one and it had nothing in it but a DVD…of home made gay porn.”
“What?”
“I popped it in my computer and voila, two dudes going at it.”
“And the other two?”
“Who cares?” Jesse said. “In the trash, unopened.”
“You know I’ve never seen gay porn.” Claire giggled.
Jesse picked the envelopes up out of the trash and tossed the to her. “Have at it then.”
She looked at the manila suddenly in her lap. “Why didn’t you open the other two?”
“I figured more of the same, not interested.” Jesse turned to leave her. “Oh, if by chance one of them has a note or a clue who they’re from; let me know so I can go kick their ass.”
“You got it.”
Vonnie strutted by holding a water and a food dish.
“You need help, Sweetheart?” Jesse asked.
“I got it, Uncle Jesse.” She smiled and sashayed along as he disappeared. Vonnie froze when she spotted Claire looking at her.
“Vista.” Claire said a nodded her head.
“Cleo.” Vonnie returned the greeting and scooted quickly up the stairs. When she reached the door to Jesse’s room, she struggled just a moment with her goods but got it opened and let herself inside.
Percy was happily lounging on the bed, making Vonnie smile. “You are happy in here.” She plopped down beside him. “I like it in here, too.”
Looking around the room. “’Kay now, your litter box is in the bathroom and I’ll put your food and water…um…right here.” She popped off the bed and plopped the dishes beside the desk.
She spotted something shiny in the floor behind the trashcan. Curiosity got the best of her and she snatched it up. “Cool! A driver’s license!”
Vonnie hurled herself onto the bed beside her cat and looked at the new found treasure. “It’s not Uncle Jesse’s.” She pointed out the picture to Percy. “I never seed this guy before.”
Popping open her “Hello Kitty” purse she slipped the plastic inside. “I’ll just keep it until I see the guy and then I’ll give it back to him.”
She stroked Percy’s fur. “You think they’ll let me drive while I got it?”
She was almost to the back door when she remembered something else. “Oh, and the mean fat lady will be over here in the back yard so that’s another plus for you.” She hefted the seemingly spineless and happy cat a little. “I hope that lady has the baby soon or I’m gonna hafta kill ‘er.”
“Young lady!” She heard the scolding tone behind her.
Vonnie froze and whispered to Percy. "Uh oh." The tot slowly turned around to face her accuser.
“Have you been in your Uncle’s room?” The housekeeper stood before her holding three manila envelopes.
“I never go into any one’s room unless I’m invited.” Vonnie looked up and smiled innocently. When the housekeeper tapped her foot and cleared her throat she added, less innocently, “Or when I’m bored and they leave the door open.”
“Did you by any chance get bored and wander through your Uncle Jesse’s bedroom door this morning?”
“No, Miss Inez. I swear.” Vonnie blinked.
“Then why did I find this unopened mail in his trash can?”
“I don’t know.”
“I suppose these just fell off his desk and into the trash can themselves?” She waived the mailers at her.
“Miss Inez, I’m only four. I don’t understand the dynamics of physics. Perhaps you should speak with some one older if you need some help in that department.” Vonnie said, instantly knowing by the look on the woman’s face that her comment didn’t come out as adorable as she’d hoped it would.
“Vonda Rae Jarvis, I’d watch my…”
“Is there a problem, Inez?”
The woman gave Vonnie the fearful “I’m spilling the beans” look, giving the little girl only a moment to figure out how to prove her innocence. “Mr. Jesse, I’m afraid the young one here has been playing in your room without permission again.”
Her uncle shot Vonnie a look, and she knew she was safe. “Vonnie doesn’t need permission to go in my room when the door is open. We have a little deal. She’s allowed to use my portable DVR player until she saves up her allowance to buy one of her own.”
“It’s in the bottom drawer of his desk.” Vonnie grinned at the housekeeper with pride. “He trusts me with it. I won’t drop it and break it and hide it in the trash can like you do when you break the good glasses.”
Inez smirked at the four year old, determined to get her for that last remark. “Then why…” She placed the trio of envelopes in Jesse’s hands. “…Did I find your unopened mail in the trash can?” She grinned down at Vonnie, knowing she’d finally scored.
“Because I put them there.” Jesse shocked the housekeeper with his comment.
“Why would you do something like that?”
“Actually, Inez, what I do and don’t do with my mail is none of your business.” Jesse did his best not to be cross. “I understand your thinking there was some kind of mistake and appreciate your bringing it to my attention.”
“Of course, Mr. Jesse.”
“You’ve been with us a long time, Inez. I don’t understand this sudden need to be accusatory. If you think there is a problem, bring it to the attention of the person it concerns, please don’t ever bring it to the attention of someone else first.”
“Of course, Mr. Jesse.”
“Now, exactly what were you doing in my room without permission?”
The tables had turned and Vonnie was enjoying seeing the woman squirm.
“Well…I…” Inez cleared her throat. “Miss Tippy wanted me to make sure all the trash cans were emptied in case one of the crew needed to use the facilities…sir.”
“I appreciate your being thorough, Inez, but I’m sure the crew will have no need to wander up to the third floor to pee.”
“Yes, sir. It won’t happen again, Mr. Jesse.” Inez took her leave and wandered off mumbling in Spanish.
“Do you understand Spanish, Uncle Jesse?” Vonnie looked up in relief and smiled.
“Yes, but apparently Inez doesn’t know that.”
“What’s she saying?”
“I’ll tell you when you’re older.” Jesse bent over and gave her a hug. “Does she give you a hard time, Sweetheart?”
“Uncle Jesse, I’m four.” She sighed. “Let’s face it, that always makes it my fault.”
“I understand. Until you came along, I was the youngest in this house.” He pushed a hair off her face and kissed her forehead. “It really, really sucks sometimes.”
“S’okay, I can handle it.” Vonnie sighed and hoisted the kitty up in her arms. “But when I grow up and rule the world, the first thing I’m gonna do is have that woman deported.”
Jesse laughed. “I thought the first thing you were going to do was marry Ronnie.”
“Oh that’s just gonna happen, Miss Inez…I’m gonna make happen.” She turned to leave.
“Uhm…where exactly do you think your going?” He asked.
She turned and gave him the old “Not you, too” look. “I’m takin’ Percy over to Uncle Ian’s. Granny’s afraid Percy’ll get in the way.”
“Tell you what, why don’t we just put Percy in your room and close the door?”
“My rooms on the first floor. I ain’t worked my way up to the Penhouse yet. Them Goobers with cables done let him out three times already.”
“Tell you what, let’s make Miss Inez crazy. You take Percy up to my room and shut the door. Move the litter box in there with some food and water. He’ll be nice and cozy.”
Vonnie grinned. “’Kay.”
The little one scampered off, cat in tow as Jesse looked at the envelopes in his hands. He rolled his eyes and dumped them for the second time in the trash.
“Junk mail?” He startled at the voice suddenly behind him.
“What?” He said as he spun around.
“Didn’t mean to startle you.” Claire looked miserable. “I just came in where it’s cooler. I know the audience is supposed to be outside, but for 5 A.M. it’s effing hot out there.”
“You being pretty effing pregnant probably has a lot to do with it.” Jesse smiled at her. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“No thanks. That’ll just make me hafta pee, again.” She sighed as she lifted herself down into the nearest chair. “One of these kids has discovered how to squeeze my bladder.”
Jesse grinned ear to ear. “I still can’t believe your going to have twins. We should have guessed.”
“Do twins run in your family?”
“No, but it explains why you’re bigger than Disneyland.” The nasty look Claire gave him made Jesse try and lighten her mood. “Hey, now you can run out and buy two of everything…I know how you love to shop.”
“You do it then.” She snarled.
“Just trying to make you smile, Claire.” Jesse pouted.
“You wanna make me smile, Jesse?” Claire tried to get comfortable in the easy chair. “Reach in my uterus and yank these kids out for me.”
Claire caught a whiff of her mood. “Sorry, Jesse. I know you are trying to be kind, but right now I am hot and sweaty and soooo sick of being pregnant.”
“Well, on the bright side the doctor did say you could go at any time.”
“A week ago…exactly how long is ‘any time now’ in California?” Claire moaned. “Okay, let’s change the subject maybe that will get me out of this mood. So why are you throwing your unopened mail away?”
Jesse looked down at the envelopes in the trash. “Actually one is opened, I assume the others are the same so I’m not bothering.”
“I repeat myself.” She said. “Junk mail?”
“Sort of.” Jesse squirmed a little. “Someone’s idea of a joke. Three identical manila envelopes, no return address, I opened the first one and it had nothing in it but a DVD…of home made gay porn.”
“What?”
“I popped it in my computer and voila, two dudes going at it.”
“And the other two?”
“Who cares?” Jesse said. “In the trash, unopened.”
“You know I’ve never seen gay porn.” Claire giggled.
Jesse picked the envelopes up out of the trash and tossed the to her. “Have at it then.”
She looked at the manila suddenly in her lap. “Why didn’t you open the other two?”
“I figured more of the same, not interested.” Jesse turned to leave her. “Oh, if by chance one of them has a note or a clue who they’re from; let me know so I can go kick their ass.”
“You got it.”
Vonnie strutted by holding a water and a food dish.
“You need help, Sweetheart?” Jesse asked.
“I got it, Uncle Jesse.” She smiled and sashayed along as he disappeared. Vonnie froze when she spotted Claire looking at her.
“Vista.” Claire said a nodded her head.
“Cleo.” Vonnie returned the greeting and scooted quickly up the stairs. When she reached the door to Jesse’s room, she struggled just a moment with her goods but got it opened and let herself inside.
Percy was happily lounging on the bed, making Vonnie smile. “You are happy in here.” She plopped down beside him. “I like it in here, too.”
Looking around the room. “’Kay now, your litter box is in the bathroom and I’ll put your food and water…um…right here.” She popped off the bed and plopped the dishes beside the desk.
She spotted something shiny in the floor behind the trashcan. Curiosity got the best of her and she snatched it up. “Cool! A driver’s license!”
Vonnie hurled herself onto the bed beside her cat and looked at the new found treasure. “It’s not Uncle Jesse’s.” She pointed out the picture to Percy. “I never seed this guy before.”
Popping open her “Hello Kitty” purse she slipped the plastic inside. “I’ll just keep it until I see the guy and then I’ll give it back to him.”
She stroked Percy’s fur. “You think they’ll let me drive while I got it?”
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Chapter 44: America Alive
Vonnie had her cat draped over one arm and her “Hello Kitty” purse draped over the other. “Now Percy, we’re going over to Uncle Ian’s house. Granny and Poppy are having some kind of TV show here and for some reason they only want humans around. You can spend the day with your sister. She’s calmed down now that Uncle Ian’s home so you should be fine.”
She was almost to the back door when she remembered something else. “Oh, and the mean fat lady will be over here in the back yard so that’s another plus for you.” She hefted the seemingly spineless and happy cat a little. “I hope that lady has the baby soon or I’m gonna hafta kill ‘er.”
“Young lady!” She heard the scolding tone behind her.
“Uh oh.” Vonnie froze and whispered to Percy. The tot slowly turned around to face her accuser.
“Have you been in your Uncle’s room?” The housekeeper stood before her holding three manila envelopes.
“I never go into any one’s room unless I’m invited.” Vonnie looked up and smiled innocently. When the housekeeper tapped her foot and cleared her throat she added, less innocently, “Or when I’m bored and they leave the door open.”
“Did you by any chance get bored and wander through your Uncle Jesse’s bedroom door this morning?”
“No, Miss Inez. I swear.” Vonnie blinked.
“Then why did I find this unopened mail in his trash can?”
“I don’t know.”
“I suppose these just fell off his desk and into the trash can themselves?” She waived the mailers at her.
“Miss Inez, I’m only four. I don’t understand the dynamics of physics. Perhaps you should speak with some one older if you need some help in that department.” Vonnie said, instantly knowing by the look on the woman’s face that her comment didn’t come out as adorable as she’d hoped it would.
“Vonda Rae Jarvis, I’d watch my…”
“Is there a problem, Inez?”
The woman gave Vonnie the fearful “I’m spilling the beans” look, giving the little girl just a moment to figure out how to prove her innocence. “Mr. Jesse, I’m afraid the young one here has been playing in your room without permission again.”
Her uncle shot Vonnie a look, and she knew she was safe. “Vonnie doesn’t need permission to go in my room when the door is open. We have a little deal. She’s allowed to use my portable DVR player until she saves up her allowance to buy one of her own.”
“It’s in the bottom drawer of his desk.” Vonnie grinned at the housekeeper with pride. “He trusts me with it. I won’t drop it and break it and hide it in the trash can like you do when you break the good glasses.”
Inez smirked at the four year old, determined to get her for that last remark. “Then why…” She placed the trio of envelopes in Jesse’s hands. “…Did I find your unopened mail in the trash can?” She grinned down at Vonnie, knowing she’d finally scored.
“Because I put them there.” Jesse shocked the housekeeper with his comment.
“Why would you do something like that?”
“Actually, Inez, what I do and don’t do with my mail is none of your business.” Jesse did his best not to be cross. “I understand your thinking there was some kind of mistake and appreciate your bringing it to my attention.”
“Of course, Mr. Jesse.”
“You’ve been with us a long time, Inez. I don’t understand this sudden need to be accusatory. If you think there is a problem, bring it to the attention of the person it concerns, please don’t ever bring it to the attention of someone else first.”
“Of course, Mr. Jesse.”
“Now, exactly what were you doing in my room without permission?”
The tables had turned and Vonnie was enjoying seeing the woman squirm.
“Well…I…” Inez cleared her throat. “Miss Tippy wanted me to make sure all the trash cans were emptied in case one of the crew needed to use the facilities…sir.”
“I appreciate your being thorough, Inez, but I’m sure the crew will have no need to wander up to the third floor to pee.”
“Yes, sir. It won’t happen again, Mr. Jesse.” Inez took her leave and wandered off mumbling in Spanish.
“Do you understand Spanish, Uncle Jesse?” Vonnie looked up in relief and smiled.
“Yes, but apparently Inez doesn’t know that.”
“What’s she saying?”
“I’ll tell you when you’re older.” Jesse bent over and gave her a hug. “Does she give you a hard time, Sweetheart?”
“Uncle Jesse, I’m four.” She sighed. “Let’s face it, that always makes it my fault.”
“I understand. Until you came along, I was the youngest in this house.” He pushed a hair off her face and kissed her forehead. “It really, really sucks sometimes.”
“S’okay, I can handle it.” Vonnie sighed and hoisted the kitty up in her arms. “But when I grow up and rule the world, the first thing I’m gonna do is have that woman deported.”
Jesse laughed. “I thought the first thing you were going to do was marry Ronnie.”
“Oh that’s just gonna happen, Miss Inez…I’m gonna make happen.” She turned to leave.
“Uhm…where exactly do you think your going?” He asked.
She turned and gave him the old “Not you, too” look. “I’m takin’ Percy over to Uncle Ian’s. Granny’s afraid Percy’ll get in the way.”
“Tell you what, why don’t we just put Percy in your room and close the door?”
“My rooms on the first floor. I ain’t worked my way up to the Penhouse yet. Them Goobers with cables done let him out three times already.”
“Tell you what, let’s make Miss Inez crazy. You take Percy up to my room and shut the door. Move the litter box in there with some food and water. He’ll be nice and cozy.”
Vonnie grinned. “’Kay.”
The little one scampered off, cat in tow as Jesse looked at the envelopes in his hands. He rolled his eyes and dumped them for the second time in the trash.
“Junk mail?” He startled at the voice suddenly behind him.
“What?” He said as he spun around.
“Didn’t mean to startle you.” Claire looked miserable. “I just came in where it’s cooler. I know the audience is supposed to be outside, but for 5 A.M. it’s effing hot out there.”
“You being pretty effing pregnant probably has a lot to do with it.” Jesse smiled at her. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“No thanks. That’ll just make me hafta pee, again.” She sighed as she lifted herself down into the nearest chair. “One of these kids has discovered how to squeeze my bladder.”
Jesse grinned ear to ear. “I still can’t believe your going to have twins. We should have guessed.”
“Do twins run in your family?”
“No, but it explains why you’re bigger than Disneyland.” The nasty look Claire gave him made Jesse try and lighten her mood. “Hey, now you can run out and buy two of everything…I know how you love to shop.”
“You do it then.” She snarled.
“Just trying to make you smile, Claire.” Jesse pouted.
“You wanna make me smile, Jesse?” Claire tried to get comfortable in the easy chair. “Reach in my uterus and yank these kids out for me.”
Claire caught a whiff of her mood. “Sorry, Jesse. I know you are trying to be kind, but right now I am hot and sweaty and soooo sick of being pregnant.”
“Well, on the bright side the doctor did say you could go at any time.”
“A week ago…exactly how long is ‘any time now’ in California?” Claire moaned. “Okay, let’s change the subject maybe that will get me out of this mood. So why are you throwing your unopened mail away?”
Jesse looked down at the envelopes in the trash. “Actually one is opened, I assume the others are the same so I’m not bothering.”
“I repeat myself.” She said. “Junk mail?”
“Sort of.” Jesse squirmed a little. “Someone’s idea of a joke. Three identical manila envelopes, no return address, I opened the first one and it had nothing in it but a DVD…of home made gay porn.”
“What?”
“I popped it in my computer and voila, two dudes going at it.”
“And the other two?”
“Who cares?” Jesse said. “In the trash, unopened.”
“You know I’ve never seen gay porn.” Claire giggled.
Jesse picked the envelopes up out of the trash and tossed the to her. “Have at it then.”
She looked at the manila suddenly in her lap. “Why didn’t you open the other two?”
“I figured more of the same, not interested.” Jesse turned to leave her. “Oh, if by chance one of them has a note or a clue who they’re from; let me know so I can go kick their ass.”
“You got it.”
Vonnie strutted by holding a water and a food dish.
“You need help, Sweetheart?” Jesse asked.
“I got it, Uncle Jesse.” She smiled and sashayed along as he disappeared. Vonnie froze when she spotted Claire looking at her.
“Vista.” Claire said a nodded her head.
“Cleo.” Vonnie returned the greeting and scooted quickly up the stairs. When she reached the door to Jesse’s room, she struggled just a moment with her goods but got it opened and let herself inside.
Percy was happily longing on the bed, making Vonnie smile. “You are happy in here.” She plopped down beside him. “I like it in here, too.”
Looking around the room. “’Kay now, your litter box is in the bathroom and I’ll put your food and water…um…right here.” She popped off the bed and plopped the dishes beside the desk.
She spotted something shiny in the floor behind the trashcan. Curiosity got the best of her and she snatched it up. “Cool! A driver’s license!”
Vonnie hurled herself onto the bed beside her cat and looked at the newfound treasure. “It’s not Uncle Jesse’s.” She pointed out the picture to Percy. “I never seed this guy before.”
Popping open her “Hello Kitty” purse she slipped the plastic inside. “I’ll just keep it until I see the guy and then I’ll give it back to him.”
She stroked Percy’s fur. “You think they’ll let me drive while I got it?”
Ronnie grabbed her hand. “Come one he’s over there!” He pointed and practically dragged Miss Glo and her wheel chair in that direction.
Ian was dressed in a blue double-breasted suit, Miss Glo recognized Bill Blass when she saw it. He was standing beside the curt women who hosted the morning program on HRT. Gloria didn’t watch it because she just didn’t care for her at all. She reminded him of a constipated nun with no sense of humor and not happy about it. She couldn’t believe she was actually going to watch it live.
She had thought about faking a seizure, but being anywhere near these people was so much better than being in that nursing home. She longed for the day she could leave it entirely. Damn that Ian Justyn, he’d given her a reason to get up in the morning, even though half of her body would never get up again.
Ian saw them approaching and lit up.
“Hey buddy.” Ian bent down and gave his son a hug and a kiss. “Do you remember Miss Gleason?” He asked him.
“Yes.” Ronnie said as if rehearsed. “It is so good to see you again, ma’am.” The lady stretched a half second smile and turned her head away.
“Morning dew on my nose damn it!” She put her hands on her hips. “Make up, I said fucking morning dew!” And stomped off.
“Morning dew to you, too.” Ronnie mocked and rolled his eyes.
Ripley, never far way from Ian, stifled a smile but smacked the kid lightly on the back of the head.
“Sorry, Uncle Ripley, but she’s just not a nice person.” Ronnie got excited. “Papa, papa…” he grabbed Miss Glo’s hand. “Look who’s come to watch you.”
Ian smiled and bent down to kiss Miss Glo’s good hand. “Miss Glo, I’m so honored you came.”
“Bite…me…” She said as half her face smiled. “Hate…show…”
“Which is why I’m glad you’re here.” He stayed at her eye level. “I’ve taken great pains to fill the live audience with people who think the show sucks.”
“Are you gonna sit with us, Papa?” Ronnie bounced from beside the chair.
“Once we get the show going I’ll do my best, Puppy. I’ll be bouncing around a lot. This is a big day for me. I am so glad you are both here though.” He kissed his son on the top of the head.
“Miss Claire’s already in her seat.”
“Tell her thank you for me and I’ll try to get out during one of the commercial breaks. Ripley, why don’t you go keep m’seat warm?”
“Are you sure?” He asked as Ronnie took his hand.
“Please, no need for you to stand around and wonder if I’m going to hyperventilate.”
Obviously not wanting to leave the man’s side, Ripley nodded his head anyway. “Com’mon then. Miss Glo, do you need some help?”
The woman deftly wrapped a finger around a lever and the wheelchair smoothly backed up. “Do…good.”
Zaundra Gleason bellowed. “Damn it Ian, get your ass over here…NOW!”
Ian rolled his eyes and started toward the pseudo-atomic blast. Miss Glo’s wheelchair suddenly whipped around and blocked him. He almost lost his balance and had to catch himself on the arms of her chair.
“Miss Glo?”
She looked him right in the eyes easily since now they were literally eye to eye. “You…good?”
“I’m fine.” He couldn’t help but read the concern in her eyes. “Honestly. I’ve checked my sugar and feeling better than I have in actually….years. I honestly didn’t know how bad I felt until I felt good again.”
Ian kissed his fingers and touched her face. Her eyes smiled despite the frown on the half of her face that worked.
“Justyn…fucking NOW!”
“Fire…her…” With that, Miss Glo was off on her mechanical way.
Ian watched her disappear. He took a deep breath and calmly strolled over to a steaming Zaundra Gleason. “Zaundra, watch your mouth.”
“Shut the fuck up…” she snarled. “We have a problem.”
“You just got a fine.” Ian looked at Wella who was standing there with a clipboard. “$250 from the bitch’s paycheck…make that $150…” he turned back to Zaundra. “And what is the problem now?”
“Senator Bellson is stuck in traffic. We have to rearrange.”
“That’s not a problem. We’ll do the Tippy intro first and….” Looking at the clipboard and where Wella was pointing on it. “…Yeah I like that, a quick headline recap at the top of every hour instead of ten minutes after then go right to the cooking sequence. We’ll clip along as planned, plugging the senator in when he arrives.”
“I don’t like that…I will not start the day with an asinine segment of an over the hill Miss America teaching people how to make cheesecake!” she snapped.
“That’s the way it’s going to be Zaundra…and before you open your mouth I don’t care if you don’t like it, suck it up and do it!” Ian calmly looked at the diva. “And let me remind you, your new contract doesn’t kick in until the camera hits your face. One more outburst and not only will that contract be null and void but I’ll see to it your face hits the camera on the way out.”
“Places people! We are rolling credits in five…four…three…” and the music started.
Tippy slipped up behind Ian and kissed him on the back of the neck. “Pearce is on the set, you ready Baby Doll?”
“Who gives a shit about him?” Zaundra whispered. “Tuck that cleavage in. You look like a whore.”
“That does it.” Ian motioned for the stage manager as the new theme music reached a crescendo. “Dougie, get this woman off my set.”
“You can’t do that, I’m about to go on.” Zaundra said.
“Not any more…you’re fired!” Zaundra’s eyes got huge. “Get her off this property, in her own words…now!”
Dougie grabbed Zaundra by the arm and lead her away, Zaundra quietly protesting. Ian turned to Tippy “Congrats, Miss America, you just got a job…”
“Huh?” she said
The audience was applauding and the director pointed at Pearce who said, “And welcome to “America Alive!” this morning from the heart of Hollywood where legends are born and never die.”
More applause. “I’m Pearce Warner, I’ll be with you this and every morning for the months to come. Won’t you join me in welcoming my co-host…” Pearce was rattled a minute as he read the cue card being shaken from behind the camera… “Tippy Shores!”
The audience, mostly friends and neighbors roared. Tippy turned to Ian. “Baby Doll, I’m taking you down with me…” she grabbed Ian’s arm and pulled him out in front of the camera with her as she graciously walked to the chairs beside Pearce, Ian trying to not look like a deer in the headlights.
“Thank you so much, and may I have the privilege of introducing the man behind it all, he’ll be here all week with us…” she lowered her voice slightly “…or I’ll kill him…” the audience howled, “Ian Justyn.”
Ian just smiled and held out a chair for Tippy to be seated in, he knew he wasn’t mic’d as well as he knew there would be ninety seconds of banter and then a cut to the first pre taped tour. Tippy and Pearce actually seemed to connect. Ian was thunderstruck. Suddenly he felt Tippy grab him by the tie. “At least say hello, Baby Doll…”
“No mic…” He said.
She pulled him over at the waist and hoisted her mic’d boobs toward him. “Now say something.”
“Good morning from the mountains?” The audience howled and Pearce almost fell off his chair laughing.
Tippy fluffed her hair and looked poised. “Some one get this man a chair…and pull it real close to me...” she changed the position of her face to the camera that now had the green light. “Now that we’re all charged up, let’s start the morning off with a little peek at some of the homes and legends right here on the street we are broadcasting from.”
“We are live all week long from Tippy’s own back yard, once the home of the legendary Darla Hutton…”
“Actually Pearce, that’s incorrect. This was actually the home of James Redfield, most of the original structure that Darla and husband Oscar winning director David Turner shared is next door. Let’s take a look as I get a lesson in what really happened in my own backyard from 1930 to 1960.”
“And we’re out…” the director called. “We’ve got 5 and then another 90 second tease before first break.
The audience applauded and Pearce laughed his ass off while someone feverishly started clipping a lavaliere on Ian. Ian slipped an earplug in. “Stan? Kill any part of the teasers with Zaundra…I don’t care throw holy water on them, she’s gone…”
Tippy turned to Pearce. “Threw a few hissy fits and he fired her.”
“I told her not to mess with him…” Pearce said.
“I’m afraid I’m it for now, Sugar, so let’s just relax and have some fun.” Tippy smiled. She waved at Ronnie who waved back and threw her a kiss.
Ian stuck his finger on the earplug. “Stan, kill the teasers all together, just get shots of the audience and the action…yeah, remind ‘em that we’re live, just point at anything fun, or interesting…”
“Or hot…” Tippy added.
It seemed like the shortest five minutes in history, people running around adjusting lights and angles to include a third unexpected body on the set. The live audience seemed glued to the monitor running the tour piece.
“And we’re back.”
Pearce smiled at the camera. “We’re going to take a short break and then Tippy is going to show the bachelor here how to make a simple but tasty cheesecake.”
“Mmmm…chocolate…” she smiled.
Ian jumped in “And later in the hour, Senator Harlan Bellson will be here…”
“Traffic permitting…” Tippy added.
“Traffic permitting…to talk about his candidacy for the office of President of the United States.”
“We’re playing it by ear today folks, so come back at watch us all have nervous breakdowns!” Tippy grinned with energy.
Pearce broke up again. “God, I love this gig. Come on back as soon as you can…”
“And clear…”
Pearce got up and kissed Tippy on the cheek. “I love you…okay I’m over here you’re over there.”
“Gotcha…” Tippy grabbed Ian by the arm. “You, my favorite hunk, you’re with me.”
As Pearce passed by Ian he whispered in his ear. “She’s a keeper…please please please!” And went over to the area they had set up for news.
“Hey…” as he realized Tippy was dragging him over to the kitchen area. “I’m just the decoration…”
“And you’re very pretty, but I need you here…” she said.
“Tippy you’ve done this before...”
“But I’ve never done this…” and she pointed to the ingredients on the counter. “This is your specialty...you let me be the hostess and teach me how to do it.”
“Tippy, you’ve….”
“Two words…Zaundra Gleason…” she glared at him.
“You’ll make her look positively charming, won’t you?”
She smiled and pinched his cheek. “You’re so smart.”
“And we’re back!”
“Just to keep the fun going I have a special treat for you.” Tippy smiled. “Ian, take off your clothes…”
Ian started undoing his tie. The audience and the crew cheered. They could hear Pearce cracking up across the patio. Tippy helped him take his jacket off. “That’s enough Baby Doll; we’ll save the rest when we need the big ratings.”
“You’re no fun!”
“Yes I am…oh I forgot there were people watching. Where were we? Oh yes…” Tippy giggled. “Now I have a houseful of boys, so it’s seems that I’ve been stuck with all the cooking…”
“Or Inez has…” Ian threw in.
Tippy hit him playfully with a wooden spoon, “…so I was thrilled when this hot little number moved in next door and preceded to cook us all under the table. Ladies, he’s single, good lookin and can cook…”
“…And not half bad in the kitchen.” More cheers came from the audience.
“So we’re going to let him show us his specialty…”
“Tippy, please.” Ian feigned embarrassment. “This is network television, not cable.”
“…Dark chocolate cheesecake.”
“It’s actually very simple and easy. Guys you can impress anyone with this…”
“Believe me, it’s a culinary orgasm…” Tippy smiled and then put her hand to her mouth. “Oh shit, can you say orgasm on live morning television?”
“Yes…but you can’t say oh shit….”
It was that moment Ian was thankful for the five-second delay and knew the world had fallen in love with Tippy Shores, all over again. The rest of the program went of with only one other hitch. Just as the Senator was arriving Pearce ran off for a potty break and accidentally locked himself in a closet.
Tippy was informed on the air and cracked, “In the closet? I thought that door got thrown open a couple of years ago” and then introduced the Senator. The director panicked and urged Ian to go sit in and do the interview, but Ian had confidence in Tippy.
At first the Senator treated her like a dumb Miss America, but she soon had impressed him with her intelligence, grilling him on important issues and not letting him off the hook until he gave a straight forward answer that “we normal people can understand and accept.”
She even asked him if he had been affected by the war. He hemmed and hawed finally telling her that she wouldn’t understand. Tippy charmingly disemboweled him on the air, telling him that her son had served on the front lines and been given two purple hearts so never to assume that she wouldn’t understand.
Tippy then ended the interview by telling him that he was very assumptive and wanted to know if he thought that was a good qualification for President. She ended the interview with a humble thank you and patting him on the knee, telling him sweetly he had a “lot of work to do” and tossed it to commercial.
The Senator was outraged and demanded her termination. Ian simply thanked him for the interview and told him in the future he should be more careful whom he thought was a dumb broad before he made as ass of himself on national television.
When the last “We’re clear” came through there were cheers everywhere. The trio of Pearce, Tippy and Ian were relieved, laughing and patting each other on the back. Ian’s phone rang almost immediately with a call from David Turner who told him that the phones had been jammed with viewers gushing at how much they loved the new format. It was a shock to what they were used to, but so much more fun and energetic than what they were used to watching.
By the time he got off the phone to tell the crew, Tippy, Pearce and company were already replanning the next day. Ian tossed out “Looks like we’re a hit” and promptly called legal to send down a contract for Tippy.
David Turner was grinning from ear to ear as he turned the set off in his office. He knew the industry was watching. He also knew that they were sweating.
Young Justyn had done it. “They” were willing to write off the coups he arranged as beginner’s luck. “They” had assumed that his brilliant stroke of turning the abysmal “Sebastian Manor” into a not miss laugh riot was desperation paying off.
“America Alive” was the first thing that would actually have Justyn’s fingerprints all over it. Too bad “They” didn’t realize if Ian knew how to do anything it was make a news format entertaining and informative and a success. He’d taken a barely watched hour in the afternoon in a tiny market and turned it into a dynamo that was outpacing anything networks could churn out. That’s what had got him to Hollywood in the first place.
Granted it was only the first outing, but “America Alive” went from snooze fest to a morning jolt of fresh coffee in the first five minutes. It was fast paced, funny, irreverent and above all direct. By the end of the program, everyone one watching knew when to tune in for the news unslanted, unbiased and just the facts. They also knew that in between those details was a wild ride at break neck speed.
Turner wondered how many people were late for work because they couldn’t take their eyes off of HRT at 6 in the morning. There was no doubt that before too long their bottom feeder morning news would be a killer in the ratings. He also had no doubt that by the end of the summer; the other networks would be trying to imitate it.
He’d had no doubt at all. He had just wondered when the rest of the world would catch on to the fact that Ian Justyn was more than a pretty face and a sound bite magnet. The man knew what he was doing. All Turner had to do now was sit back and let him do it.
Oh, the blood bath in September would be such sweet revenge. Too long HRT had been considered the Miss America pageant of networks. While his rivals had acknowledged Young Justyn’s knack for scoring the hottest talent available, they done little more than give the new schedule a nice pat on the head and say “How adorable”.
“Adorable is about to rip them all a new one.” He said to himself.
Turner swiveled the chair in his penthouse office around to gaze outside. He hadn’t felt the sure and this confident since he couldn’t remember when…yes he could. It was a long time ago…
…Somehow Lucille had done it again. It wasn’t a huge premiere. There wasn’t a big company with endless pockets to back it up. None of the stars or the director were household names, but some how Lucille had managed to pack the place with as many big names as she could cajole, beg or blackmail into being there.
There hadn’t been an empty seat in the house. He had to admit while standing in the back of the house waiting for “Breathe” to begin, he was holding his breath. The crowd was restless and noisy, barely noticing that the movie had begun.
It didn’t take long, before they grew silent. At first he thought it might just be respect for someone who might actually want to see it.
Then she appeared on the screen, and as many times as he’d already seen it, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He was transfixed, and as soon as he was able again to take his eyes away, he knew the audience was transfixed, too. And then not just by her, but by the movie itself. He’d done well.
And now he stood in the midst of everyone in the ballroom rented for the after party. Every phone in town must have been busy during the screening because suddenly all of Hollywood was trying to crash the wet bar. They had done it, damn; they’d managed to pull it out of the fire.
“You look like the fat feline with yellow feathers in his mouth.” Someone said from behind him.
He turned to see the face with the voice. Lucille stood dutifully arm in arm with her husband James. “Well, Mr. Turner looks like our labor of love has paid off.”
David put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Well, Mr. Redfield, I think we can both rest easy tonight.”
Lucille looked around him. “Where is she?”
They panicked. “She was right here just a moment ago.” Turner searched the room with his eyes frantically.
“Calm down.” Redfield tried to calm them. “She’s probably hiding in the bathroom. She’s scared to death, poor thing.”
“I’ll go get her.” Lucille smirked. “Scared or not, she needs to be seen.” Before she headed for the john she hissed at Turner. “And as soon as I drag that idiot back here, don’t let her out of your sight until we figure out what to do with her.”
“What to do with her?” Turner asked.
“One wrong word to the wrong person, hell to the right person and this night of triumph turns into a nightmare.” Lucille just had to remind him.
Despite the wall-to-wall superstar, it didn’t take Lucille long to get back from the facilities. “She’s not in there.”
“What?”
“Find her, damn it, find that woman!” Lucille snarled as quietly as possible. “It can’t be hard to find a moron in the room.”
“Oh great, we have to find the beagle in a room full of brown and white puppies.” Redfield looked as discreetly as possible around the ballroom.
Turner saw a familiar face. He grabbed the man’s arm. “Herman, have you seen your sister?”
“No, not recently.” Lucille gave him a look that made the man panic. “Look she’s scared to death, always hated crowds and attention. She’s just found a corner to hide in. You should know she does that by now.”
“Great.” Lucille said. “We’ve got our new star trembling behind the drapes. I’m not paying for the dry cleaning if she blows her nose on them.”
Elysian pointed. “There she is.”
“Where?” Turner craned his neck to see where he was pointing.
“On the bandstand.”
“I’ll go get her.” Redfield volunteered.
“No.” Turner put up his hand. “Let me.”
“Hurry, before she gets away. Hedda Hopper’s here, the last person on Earth you want her talking to, and you know that bitch wants to talk to her.” Lucille shoved him in the direction of the bandstand.
“She’ll be fine.” Herman defended his sister. “She’s loves music. It calms her down. She’s probably just enjoying it.” He grabbed Turner’s arm. “Let me go with you, just in case she is having another meltdown. I can usually keep her calm.”
“Then go.” Lucille urged them on with her hands. “Don’t talk about defusing the bomb when it’s about to go off. Just choose a color and yank the wire…NOW!”
She was so glad there was music. She loved music. She had made her way near the band as was swaying back and forth humming to the song. How she wanted to get closer to it and farther away from them.
Well, most of them. They kept making her do things she didn’t want to do. That woman was the worst of all. She was mean and she frightened her. The two men were sweet though, and she kept letting them talk into doing want the mean woman wanted. She couldn’t help it if it kept making her cry.
She hated that monstrosity they called a camera. It kept getting too close and every time she would start to enjoy herself, it would be there. It was horrible.
But the stage had a bright silvery microphone. She’d always liked microphones. Her Daddy would never let her near one.
“Music is of the devil. It will drag you down to hell with it.” He would say anytime he heard he sing.
She was glad no one noticed her step up on the stage. The man at the piano had smiled at her, so she stepped right up and sat down beside him. He never missed a beat; his fingers kept right on running across the keyboard.
When she heard a few people giggle, she almost got up and ran but the piano man said, “You stay right there, hon. This is your night. Enjoy it.”
It made her feel so warm inside. She didn’t know what he meant, but she thought it meant she could stay where she was. So she did. The man nodded his head and started playing another song.
It was so beautiful she forgot she was somewhere she shouldn’t be. She did know that her Daddy wasn’t anywhere near anymore. Herman had taken her away from that awful man. Remembering that made her smile and close her eyes.
Then she started to sing. She knew all the words and sang right along. It felt so nice. It felt so good. She hadn’t felt that way in a long, long time.
They had managed to make their way to the bandstand. Herman and David, James and Lucille not far behind, had managed to get there without anyone noticing they were desperate to get to the new starlet. Another few steps and either David or Herman could speak quietly to her, hopefully getting her to take an arm and not let go for the rest of the night.
David was about to reach up to her when, again, a hand grabbed his arm.
“Wait.” Lucille said. She nodded her head toward the shy bird on the piano stool. “Listen.”
Turner turned his ear toward the stage. His eyes grew wide and he shot a glance toward Redfield and his wife.
Lucille was smiling. “I think I know what to do with her.”
“What?” Her husband whispered.
“We can keep this up.” The woman was almost smiling, something Turner wasn’t sure he’d ever seen. “Who knows where this could take us?”
She opened her eyes and saw them looking at her. She knew they would make her stop so she was going to enjoy this as long as she could. Surely, they’d at least wait for the song to end before they dragged her back.
“You have a beautiful voice, my dear.” The piano man said.
“Thank you. I like to sing.” She blushed and said quietly. “You play beautifully.”
“Well, I am Ralston Scott. That’s what they pay me to do.”
“Okay.” She had no idea what he meant, but she glanced down at the mean lady and that nice man her brother called Dave. She knew her safe time was almost up.
“Sing something else.” The piano man said.
“Me?”
“Of course you.”
“Alright. What should I sing?”
“Anything you want.” He said.
She looked to see if they were frowning, but that silvery microphone got in the way. She pointed at it. “Can I sing there?”
“Of course.” The piano man seemed to think that was a funny thing to say.
She didn’t care. She got up and went right to that microphone. “Uhm…”
The boom of her voice suddenly made everyone in the room stop and look at her. At first it scared her, but she reached out and held on to the silver. She turned to the piano man and asked. “Do you know ‘Ever After Blue Sky’?”
“I should. I wrote it.”
“Okay.” She said.
There was some laughter, but it was not going to make her run this time. She was going to sing. She heard the notes of her favorite song and closed her eyes.
When her mouth opened she could hear herself clear and strong. It was wonderful. When she opened her eyes no one was laughing, but they were all looking at her. They were all looking at her and she could feel how much they liked her song. It made her want to sing more. She did.
They applauded. They applauded her when she finished. She couldn’t believe it. She just stood there and smiled. She didn’t know what else to do.
“Tell us your name again, hon,” The piano man said making her turn her head to him.
“My name is…”
He motioned for her to turn around and say her name in the silvery microphone so everyone could hear. “My name is…I…”
They caught her eye. Those three people and her brother were standing right there in front of her. The mean woman frowned, but the man named Dave smiled and nodded is head.
She remembered.
“My name is Darla…Darla Hutton.”
And Dave knew without a doubt, that a star was born.
She was almost to the back door when she remembered something else. “Oh, and the mean fat lady will be over here in the back yard so that’s another plus for you.” She hefted the seemingly spineless and happy cat a little. “I hope that lady has the baby soon or I’m gonna hafta kill ‘er.”
“Young lady!” She heard the scolding tone behind her.
“Uh oh.” Vonnie froze and whispered to Percy. The tot slowly turned around to face her accuser.
“Have you been in your Uncle’s room?” The housekeeper stood before her holding three manila envelopes.
“I never go into any one’s room unless I’m invited.” Vonnie looked up and smiled innocently. When the housekeeper tapped her foot and cleared her throat she added, less innocently, “Or when I’m bored and they leave the door open.”
“Did you by any chance get bored and wander through your Uncle Jesse’s bedroom door this morning?”
“No, Miss Inez. I swear.” Vonnie blinked.
“Then why did I find this unopened mail in his trash can?”
“I don’t know.”
“I suppose these just fell off his desk and into the trash can themselves?” She waived the mailers at her.
“Miss Inez, I’m only four. I don’t understand the dynamics of physics. Perhaps you should speak with some one older if you need some help in that department.” Vonnie said, instantly knowing by the look on the woman’s face that her comment didn’t come out as adorable as she’d hoped it would.
“Vonda Rae Jarvis, I’d watch my…”
“Is there a problem, Inez?”
The woman gave Vonnie the fearful “I’m spilling the beans” look, giving the little girl just a moment to figure out how to prove her innocence. “Mr. Jesse, I’m afraid the young one here has been playing in your room without permission again.”
Her uncle shot Vonnie a look, and she knew she was safe. “Vonnie doesn’t need permission to go in my room when the door is open. We have a little deal. She’s allowed to use my portable DVR player until she saves up her allowance to buy one of her own.”
“It’s in the bottom drawer of his desk.” Vonnie grinned at the housekeeper with pride. “He trusts me with it. I won’t drop it and break it and hide it in the trash can like you do when you break the good glasses.”
Inez smirked at the four year old, determined to get her for that last remark. “Then why…” She placed the trio of envelopes in Jesse’s hands. “…Did I find your unopened mail in the trash can?” She grinned down at Vonnie, knowing she’d finally scored.
“Because I put them there.” Jesse shocked the housekeeper with his comment.
“Why would you do something like that?”
“Actually, Inez, what I do and don’t do with my mail is none of your business.” Jesse did his best not to be cross. “I understand your thinking there was some kind of mistake and appreciate your bringing it to my attention.”
“Of course, Mr. Jesse.”
“You’ve been with us a long time, Inez. I don’t understand this sudden need to be accusatory. If you think there is a problem, bring it to the attention of the person it concerns, please don’t ever bring it to the attention of someone else first.”
“Of course, Mr. Jesse.”
“Now, exactly what were you doing in my room without permission?”
The tables had turned and Vonnie was enjoying seeing the woman squirm.
“Well…I…” Inez cleared her throat. “Miss Tippy wanted me to make sure all the trash cans were emptied in case one of the crew needed to use the facilities…sir.”
“I appreciate your being thorough, Inez, but I’m sure the crew will have no need to wander up to the third floor to pee.”
“Yes, sir. It won’t happen again, Mr. Jesse.” Inez took her leave and wandered off mumbling in Spanish.
“Do you understand Spanish, Uncle Jesse?” Vonnie looked up in relief and smiled.
“Yes, but apparently Inez doesn’t know that.”
“What’s she saying?”
“I’ll tell you when you’re older.” Jesse bent over and gave her a hug. “Does she give you a hard time, Sweetheart?”
“Uncle Jesse, I’m four.” She sighed. “Let’s face it, that always makes it my fault.”
“I understand. Until you came along, I was the youngest in this house.” He pushed a hair off her face and kissed her forehead. “It really, really sucks sometimes.”
“S’okay, I can handle it.” Vonnie sighed and hoisted the kitty up in her arms. “But when I grow up and rule the world, the first thing I’m gonna do is have that woman deported.”
Jesse laughed. “I thought the first thing you were going to do was marry Ronnie.”
“Oh that’s just gonna happen, Miss Inez…I’m gonna make happen.” She turned to leave.
“Uhm…where exactly do you think your going?” He asked.
She turned and gave him the old “Not you, too” look. “I’m takin’ Percy over to Uncle Ian’s. Granny’s afraid Percy’ll get in the way.”
“Tell you what, why don’t we just put Percy in your room and close the door?”
“My rooms on the first floor. I ain’t worked my way up to the Penhouse yet. Them Goobers with cables done let him out three times already.”
“Tell you what, let’s make Miss Inez crazy. You take Percy up to my room and shut the door. Move the litter box in there with some food and water. He’ll be nice and cozy.”
Vonnie grinned. “’Kay.”
The little one scampered off, cat in tow as Jesse looked at the envelopes in his hands. He rolled his eyes and dumped them for the second time in the trash.
“Junk mail?” He startled at the voice suddenly behind him.
“What?” He said as he spun around.
“Didn’t mean to startle you.” Claire looked miserable. “I just came in where it’s cooler. I know the audience is supposed to be outside, but for 5 A.M. it’s effing hot out there.”
“You being pretty effing pregnant probably has a lot to do with it.” Jesse smiled at her. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“No thanks. That’ll just make me hafta pee, again.” She sighed as she lifted herself down into the nearest chair. “One of these kids has discovered how to squeeze my bladder.”
Jesse grinned ear to ear. “I still can’t believe your going to have twins. We should have guessed.”
“Do twins run in your family?”
“No, but it explains why you’re bigger than Disneyland.” The nasty look Claire gave him made Jesse try and lighten her mood. “Hey, now you can run out and buy two of everything…I know how you love to shop.”
“You do it then.” She snarled.
“Just trying to make you smile, Claire.” Jesse pouted.
“You wanna make me smile, Jesse?” Claire tried to get comfortable in the easy chair. “Reach in my uterus and yank these kids out for me.”
Claire caught a whiff of her mood. “Sorry, Jesse. I know you are trying to be kind, but right now I am hot and sweaty and soooo sick of being pregnant.”
“Well, on the bright side the doctor did say you could go at any time.”
“A week ago…exactly how long is ‘any time now’ in California?” Claire moaned. “Okay, let’s change the subject maybe that will get me out of this mood. So why are you throwing your unopened mail away?”
Jesse looked down at the envelopes in the trash. “Actually one is opened, I assume the others are the same so I’m not bothering.”
“I repeat myself.” She said. “Junk mail?”
“Sort of.” Jesse squirmed a little. “Someone’s idea of a joke. Three identical manila envelopes, no return address, I opened the first one and it had nothing in it but a DVD…of home made gay porn.”
“What?”
“I popped it in my computer and voila, two dudes going at it.”
“And the other two?”
“Who cares?” Jesse said. “In the trash, unopened.”
“You know I’ve never seen gay porn.” Claire giggled.
Jesse picked the envelopes up out of the trash and tossed the to her. “Have at it then.”
She looked at the manila suddenly in her lap. “Why didn’t you open the other two?”
“I figured more of the same, not interested.” Jesse turned to leave her. “Oh, if by chance one of them has a note or a clue who they’re from; let me know so I can go kick their ass.”
“You got it.”
Vonnie strutted by holding a water and a food dish.
“You need help, Sweetheart?” Jesse asked.
“I got it, Uncle Jesse.” She smiled and sashayed along as he disappeared. Vonnie froze when she spotted Claire looking at her.
“Vista.” Claire said a nodded her head.
“Cleo.” Vonnie returned the greeting and scooted quickly up the stairs. When she reached the door to Jesse’s room, she struggled just a moment with her goods but got it opened and let herself inside.
Percy was happily longing on the bed, making Vonnie smile. “You are happy in here.” She plopped down beside him. “I like it in here, too.”
Looking around the room. “’Kay now, your litter box is in the bathroom and I’ll put your food and water…um…right here.” She popped off the bed and plopped the dishes beside the desk.
She spotted something shiny in the floor behind the trashcan. Curiosity got the best of her and she snatched it up. “Cool! A driver’s license!”
Vonnie hurled herself onto the bed beside her cat and looked at the newfound treasure. “It’s not Uncle Jesse’s.” She pointed out the picture to Percy. “I never seed this guy before.”
Popping open her “Hello Kitty” purse she slipped the plastic inside. “I’ll just keep it until I see the guy and then I’ll give it back to him.”
She stroked Percy’s fur. “You think they’ll let me drive while I got it?”
Ronnie grabbed her hand. “Come one he’s over there!” He pointed and practically dragged Miss Glo and her wheel chair in that direction.
Ian was dressed in a blue double-breasted suit, Miss Glo recognized Bill Blass when she saw it. He was standing beside the curt women who hosted the morning program on HRT. Gloria didn’t watch it because she just didn’t care for her at all. She reminded him of a constipated nun with no sense of humor and not happy about it. She couldn’t believe she was actually going to watch it live.
She had thought about faking a seizure, but being anywhere near these people was so much better than being in that nursing home. She longed for the day she could leave it entirely. Damn that Ian Justyn, he’d given her a reason to get up in the morning, even though half of her body would never get up again.
Ian saw them approaching and lit up.
“Hey buddy.” Ian bent down and gave his son a hug and a kiss. “Do you remember Miss Gleason?” He asked him.
“Yes.” Ronnie said as if rehearsed. “It is so good to see you again, ma’am.” The lady stretched a half second smile and turned her head away.
“Morning dew on my nose damn it!” She put her hands on her hips. “Make up, I said fucking morning dew!” And stomped off.
“Morning dew to you, too.” Ronnie mocked and rolled his eyes.
Ripley, never far way from Ian, stifled a smile but smacked the kid lightly on the back of the head.
“Sorry, Uncle Ripley, but she’s just not a nice person.” Ronnie got excited. “Papa, papa…” he grabbed Miss Glo’s hand. “Look who’s come to watch you.”
Ian smiled and bent down to kiss Miss Glo’s good hand. “Miss Glo, I’m so honored you came.”
“Bite…me…” She said as half her face smiled. “Hate…show…”
“Which is why I’m glad you’re here.” He stayed at her eye level. “I’ve taken great pains to fill the live audience with people who think the show sucks.”
“Are you gonna sit with us, Papa?” Ronnie bounced from beside the chair.
“Once we get the show going I’ll do my best, Puppy. I’ll be bouncing around a lot. This is a big day for me. I am so glad you are both here though.” He kissed his son on the top of the head.
“Miss Claire’s already in her seat.”
“Tell her thank you for me and I’ll try to get out during one of the commercial breaks. Ripley, why don’t you go keep m’seat warm?”
“Are you sure?” He asked as Ronnie took his hand.
“Please, no need for you to stand around and wonder if I’m going to hyperventilate.”
Obviously not wanting to leave the man’s side, Ripley nodded his head anyway. “Com’mon then. Miss Glo, do you need some help?”
The woman deftly wrapped a finger around a lever and the wheelchair smoothly backed up. “Do…good.”
Zaundra Gleason bellowed. “Damn it Ian, get your ass over here…NOW!”
Ian rolled his eyes and started toward the pseudo-atomic blast. Miss Glo’s wheelchair suddenly whipped around and blocked him. He almost lost his balance and had to catch himself on the arms of her chair.
“Miss Glo?”
She looked him right in the eyes easily since now they were literally eye to eye. “You…good?”
“I’m fine.” He couldn’t help but read the concern in her eyes. “Honestly. I’ve checked my sugar and feeling better than I have in actually….years. I honestly didn’t know how bad I felt until I felt good again.”
Ian kissed his fingers and touched her face. Her eyes smiled despite the frown on the half of her face that worked.
“Justyn…fucking NOW!”
“Fire…her…” With that, Miss Glo was off on her mechanical way.
Ian watched her disappear. He took a deep breath and calmly strolled over to a steaming Zaundra Gleason. “Zaundra, watch your mouth.”
“Shut the fuck up…” she snarled. “We have a problem.”
“You just got a fine.” Ian looked at Wella who was standing there with a clipboard. “$250 from the bitch’s paycheck…make that $150…” he turned back to Zaundra. “And what is the problem now?”
“Senator Bellson is stuck in traffic. We have to rearrange.”
“That’s not a problem. We’ll do the Tippy intro first and….” Looking at the clipboard and where Wella was pointing on it. “…Yeah I like that, a quick headline recap at the top of every hour instead of ten minutes after then go right to the cooking sequence. We’ll clip along as planned, plugging the senator in when he arrives.”
“I don’t like that…I will not start the day with an asinine segment of an over the hill Miss America teaching people how to make cheesecake!” she snapped.
“That’s the way it’s going to be Zaundra…and before you open your mouth I don’t care if you don’t like it, suck it up and do it!” Ian calmly looked at the diva. “And let me remind you, your new contract doesn’t kick in until the camera hits your face. One more outburst and not only will that contract be null and void but I’ll see to it your face hits the camera on the way out.”
“Places people! We are rolling credits in five…four…three…” and the music started.
Tippy slipped up behind Ian and kissed him on the back of the neck. “Pearce is on the set, you ready Baby Doll?”
“Who gives a shit about him?” Zaundra whispered. “Tuck that cleavage in. You look like a whore.”
“That does it.” Ian motioned for the stage manager as the new theme music reached a crescendo. “Dougie, get this woman off my set.”
“You can’t do that, I’m about to go on.” Zaundra said.
“Not any more…you’re fired!” Zaundra’s eyes got huge. “Get her off this property, in her own words…now!”
Dougie grabbed Zaundra by the arm and lead her away, Zaundra quietly protesting. Ian turned to Tippy “Congrats, Miss America, you just got a job…”
“Huh?” she said
The audience was applauding and the director pointed at Pearce who said, “And welcome to “America Alive!” this morning from the heart of Hollywood where legends are born and never die.”
More applause. “I’m Pearce Warner, I’ll be with you this and every morning for the months to come. Won’t you join me in welcoming my co-host…” Pearce was rattled a minute as he read the cue card being shaken from behind the camera… “Tippy Shores!”
The audience, mostly friends and neighbors roared. Tippy turned to Ian. “Baby Doll, I’m taking you down with me…” she grabbed Ian’s arm and pulled him out in front of the camera with her as she graciously walked to the chairs beside Pearce, Ian trying to not look like a deer in the headlights.
“Thank you so much, and may I have the privilege of introducing the man behind it all, he’ll be here all week with us…” she lowered her voice slightly “…or I’ll kill him…” the audience howled, “Ian Justyn.”
Ian just smiled and held out a chair for Tippy to be seated in, he knew he wasn’t mic’d as well as he knew there would be ninety seconds of banter and then a cut to the first pre taped tour. Tippy and Pearce actually seemed to connect. Ian was thunderstruck. Suddenly he felt Tippy grab him by the tie. “At least say hello, Baby Doll…”
“No mic…” He said.
She pulled him over at the waist and hoisted her mic’d boobs toward him. “Now say something.”
“Good morning from the mountains?” The audience howled and Pearce almost fell off his chair laughing.
Tippy fluffed her hair and looked poised. “Some one get this man a chair…and pull it real close to me...” she changed the position of her face to the camera that now had the green light. “Now that we’re all charged up, let’s start the morning off with a little peek at some of the homes and legends right here on the street we are broadcasting from.”
“We are live all week long from Tippy’s own back yard, once the home of the legendary Darla Hutton…”
“Actually Pearce, that’s incorrect. This was actually the home of James Redfield, most of the original structure that Darla and husband Oscar winning director David Turner shared is next door. Let’s take a look as I get a lesson in what really happened in my own backyard from 1930 to 1960.”
“And we’re out…” the director called. “We’ve got 5 and then another 90 second tease before first break.
The audience applauded and Pearce laughed his ass off while someone feverishly started clipping a lavaliere on Ian. Ian slipped an earplug in. “Stan? Kill any part of the teasers with Zaundra…I don’t care throw holy water on them, she’s gone…”
Tippy turned to Pearce. “Threw a few hissy fits and he fired her.”
“I told her not to mess with him…” Pearce said.
“I’m afraid I’m it for now, Sugar, so let’s just relax and have some fun.” Tippy smiled. She waved at Ronnie who waved back and threw her a kiss.
Ian stuck his finger on the earplug. “Stan, kill the teasers all together, just get shots of the audience and the action…yeah, remind ‘em that we’re live, just point at anything fun, or interesting…”
“Or hot…” Tippy added.
It seemed like the shortest five minutes in history, people running around adjusting lights and angles to include a third unexpected body on the set. The live audience seemed glued to the monitor running the tour piece.
“And we’re back.”
Pearce smiled at the camera. “We’re going to take a short break and then Tippy is going to show the bachelor here how to make a simple but tasty cheesecake.”
“Mmmm…chocolate…” she smiled.
Ian jumped in “And later in the hour, Senator Harlan Bellson will be here…”
“Traffic permitting…” Tippy added.
“Traffic permitting…to talk about his candidacy for the office of President of the United States.”
“We’re playing it by ear today folks, so come back at watch us all have nervous breakdowns!” Tippy grinned with energy.
Pearce broke up again. “God, I love this gig. Come on back as soon as you can…”
“And clear…”
Pearce got up and kissed Tippy on the cheek. “I love you…okay I’m over here you’re over there.”
“Gotcha…” Tippy grabbed Ian by the arm. “You, my favorite hunk, you’re with me.”
As Pearce passed by Ian he whispered in his ear. “She’s a keeper…please please please!” And went over to the area they had set up for news.
“Hey…” as he realized Tippy was dragging him over to the kitchen area. “I’m just the decoration…”
“And you’re very pretty, but I need you here…” she said.
“Tippy you’ve done this before...”
“But I’ve never done this…” and she pointed to the ingredients on the counter. “This is your specialty...you let me be the hostess and teach me how to do it.”
“Tippy, you’ve….”
“Two words…Zaundra Gleason…” she glared at him.
“You’ll make her look positively charming, won’t you?”
She smiled and pinched his cheek. “You’re so smart.”
“And we’re back!”
“Just to keep the fun going I have a special treat for you.” Tippy smiled. “Ian, take off your clothes…”
Ian started undoing his tie. The audience and the crew cheered. They could hear Pearce cracking up across the patio. Tippy helped him take his jacket off. “That’s enough Baby Doll; we’ll save the rest when we need the big ratings.”
“You’re no fun!”
“Yes I am…oh I forgot there were people watching. Where were we? Oh yes…” Tippy giggled. “Now I have a houseful of boys, so it’s seems that I’ve been stuck with all the cooking…”
“Or Inez has…” Ian threw in.
Tippy hit him playfully with a wooden spoon, “…so I was thrilled when this hot little number moved in next door and preceded to cook us all under the table. Ladies, he’s single, good lookin and can cook…”
“…And not half bad in the kitchen.” More cheers came from the audience.
“So we’re going to let him show us his specialty…”
“Tippy, please.” Ian feigned embarrassment. “This is network television, not cable.”
“…Dark chocolate cheesecake.”
“It’s actually very simple and easy. Guys you can impress anyone with this…”
“Believe me, it’s a culinary orgasm…” Tippy smiled and then put her hand to her mouth. “Oh shit, can you say orgasm on live morning television?”
“Yes…but you can’t say oh shit….”
It was that moment Ian was thankful for the five-second delay and knew the world had fallen in love with Tippy Shores, all over again. The rest of the program went of with only one other hitch. Just as the Senator was arriving Pearce ran off for a potty break and accidentally locked himself in a closet.
Tippy was informed on the air and cracked, “In the closet? I thought that door got thrown open a couple of years ago” and then introduced the Senator. The director panicked and urged Ian to go sit in and do the interview, but Ian had confidence in Tippy.
At first the Senator treated her like a dumb Miss America, but she soon had impressed him with her intelligence, grilling him on important issues and not letting him off the hook until he gave a straight forward answer that “we normal people can understand and accept.”
She even asked him if he had been affected by the war. He hemmed and hawed finally telling her that she wouldn’t understand. Tippy charmingly disemboweled him on the air, telling him that her son had served on the front lines and been given two purple hearts so never to assume that she wouldn’t understand.
Tippy then ended the interview by telling him that he was very assumptive and wanted to know if he thought that was a good qualification for President. She ended the interview with a humble thank you and patting him on the knee, telling him sweetly he had a “lot of work to do” and tossed it to commercial.
The Senator was outraged and demanded her termination. Ian simply thanked him for the interview and told him in the future he should be more careful whom he thought was a dumb broad before he made as ass of himself on national television.
When the last “We’re clear” came through there were cheers everywhere. The trio of Pearce, Tippy and Ian were relieved, laughing and patting each other on the back. Ian’s phone rang almost immediately with a call from David Turner who told him that the phones had been jammed with viewers gushing at how much they loved the new format. It was a shock to what they were used to, but so much more fun and energetic than what they were used to watching.
By the time he got off the phone to tell the crew, Tippy, Pearce and company were already replanning the next day. Ian tossed out “Looks like we’re a hit” and promptly called legal to send down a contract for Tippy.
David Turner was grinning from ear to ear as he turned the set off in his office. He knew the industry was watching. He also knew that they were sweating.
Young Justyn had done it. “They” were willing to write off the coups he arranged as beginner’s luck. “They” had assumed that his brilliant stroke of turning the abysmal “Sebastian Manor” into a not miss laugh riot was desperation paying off.
“America Alive” was the first thing that would actually have Justyn’s fingerprints all over it. Too bad “They” didn’t realize if Ian knew how to do anything it was make a news format entertaining and informative and a success. He’d taken a barely watched hour in the afternoon in a tiny market and turned it into a dynamo that was outpacing anything networks could churn out. That’s what had got him to Hollywood in the first place.
Granted it was only the first outing, but “America Alive” went from snooze fest to a morning jolt of fresh coffee in the first five minutes. It was fast paced, funny, irreverent and above all direct. By the end of the program, everyone one watching knew when to tune in for the news unslanted, unbiased and just the facts. They also knew that in between those details was a wild ride at break neck speed.
Turner wondered how many people were late for work because they couldn’t take their eyes off of HRT at 6 in the morning. There was no doubt that before too long their bottom feeder morning news would be a killer in the ratings. He also had no doubt that by the end of the summer; the other networks would be trying to imitate it.
He’d had no doubt at all. He had just wondered when the rest of the world would catch on to the fact that Ian Justyn was more than a pretty face and a sound bite magnet. The man knew what he was doing. All Turner had to do now was sit back and let him do it.
Oh, the blood bath in September would be such sweet revenge. Too long HRT had been considered the Miss America pageant of networks. While his rivals had acknowledged Young Justyn’s knack for scoring the hottest talent available, they done little more than give the new schedule a nice pat on the head and say “How adorable”.
“Adorable is about to rip them all a new one.” He said to himself.
Turner swiveled the chair in his penthouse office around to gaze outside. He hadn’t felt the sure and this confident since he couldn’t remember when…yes he could. It was a long time ago…
…Somehow Lucille had done it again. It wasn’t a huge premiere. There wasn’t a big company with endless pockets to back it up. None of the stars or the director were household names, but some how Lucille had managed to pack the place with as many big names as she could cajole, beg or blackmail into being there.
There hadn’t been an empty seat in the house. He had to admit while standing in the back of the house waiting for “Breathe” to begin, he was holding his breath. The crowd was restless and noisy, barely noticing that the movie had begun.
It didn’t take long, before they grew silent. At first he thought it might just be respect for someone who might actually want to see it.
Then she appeared on the screen, and as many times as he’d already seen it, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He was transfixed, and as soon as he was able again to take his eyes away, he knew the audience was transfixed, too. And then not just by her, but by the movie itself. He’d done well.
And now he stood in the midst of everyone in the ballroom rented for the after party. Every phone in town must have been busy during the screening because suddenly all of Hollywood was trying to crash the wet bar. They had done it, damn; they’d managed to pull it out of the fire.
“You look like the fat feline with yellow feathers in his mouth.” Someone said from behind him.
He turned to see the face with the voice. Lucille stood dutifully arm in arm with her husband James. “Well, Mr. Turner looks like our labor of love has paid off.”
David put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Well, Mr. Redfield, I think we can both rest easy tonight.”
Lucille looked around him. “Where is she?”
They panicked. “She was right here just a moment ago.” Turner searched the room with his eyes frantically.
“Calm down.” Redfield tried to calm them. “She’s probably hiding in the bathroom. She’s scared to death, poor thing.”
“I’ll go get her.” Lucille smirked. “Scared or not, she needs to be seen.” Before she headed for the john she hissed at Turner. “And as soon as I drag that idiot back here, don’t let her out of your sight until we figure out what to do with her.”
“What to do with her?” Turner asked.
“One wrong word to the wrong person, hell to the right person and this night of triumph turns into a nightmare.” Lucille just had to remind him.
Despite the wall-to-wall superstar, it didn’t take Lucille long to get back from the facilities. “She’s not in there.”
“What?”
“Find her, damn it, find that woman!” Lucille snarled as quietly as possible. “It can’t be hard to find a moron in the room.”
“Oh great, we have to find the beagle in a room full of brown and white puppies.” Redfield looked as discreetly as possible around the ballroom.
Turner saw a familiar face. He grabbed the man’s arm. “Herman, have you seen your sister?”
“No, not recently.” Lucille gave him a look that made the man panic. “Look she’s scared to death, always hated crowds and attention. She’s just found a corner to hide in. You should know she does that by now.”
“Great.” Lucille said. “We’ve got our new star trembling behind the drapes. I’m not paying for the dry cleaning if she blows her nose on them.”
Elysian pointed. “There she is.”
“Where?” Turner craned his neck to see where he was pointing.
“On the bandstand.”
“I’ll go get her.” Redfield volunteered.
“No.” Turner put up his hand. “Let me.”
“Hurry, before she gets away. Hedda Hopper’s here, the last person on Earth you want her talking to, and you know that bitch wants to talk to her.” Lucille shoved him in the direction of the bandstand.
“She’ll be fine.” Herman defended his sister. “She’s loves music. It calms her down. She’s probably just enjoying it.” He grabbed Turner’s arm. “Let me go with you, just in case she is having another meltdown. I can usually keep her calm.”
“Then go.” Lucille urged them on with her hands. “Don’t talk about defusing the bomb when it’s about to go off. Just choose a color and yank the wire…NOW!”
She was so glad there was music. She loved music. She had made her way near the band as was swaying back and forth humming to the song. How she wanted to get closer to it and farther away from them.
Well, most of them. They kept making her do things she didn’t want to do. That woman was the worst of all. She was mean and she frightened her. The two men were sweet though, and she kept letting them talk into doing want the mean woman wanted. She couldn’t help it if it kept making her cry.
She hated that monstrosity they called a camera. It kept getting too close and every time she would start to enjoy herself, it would be there. It was horrible.
But the stage had a bright silvery microphone. She’d always liked microphones. Her Daddy would never let her near one.
“Music is of the devil. It will drag you down to hell with it.” He would say anytime he heard he sing.
She was glad no one noticed her step up on the stage. The man at the piano had smiled at her, so she stepped right up and sat down beside him. He never missed a beat; his fingers kept right on running across the keyboard.
When she heard a few people giggle, she almost got up and ran but the piano man said, “You stay right there, hon. This is your night. Enjoy it.”
It made her feel so warm inside. She didn’t know what he meant, but she thought it meant she could stay where she was. So she did. The man nodded his head and started playing another song.
It was so beautiful she forgot she was somewhere she shouldn’t be. She did know that her Daddy wasn’t anywhere near anymore. Herman had taken her away from that awful man. Remembering that made her smile and close her eyes.
Then she started to sing. She knew all the words and sang right along. It felt so nice. It felt so good. She hadn’t felt that way in a long, long time.
They had managed to make their way to the bandstand. Herman and David, James and Lucille not far behind, had managed to get there without anyone noticing they were desperate to get to the new starlet. Another few steps and either David or Herman could speak quietly to her, hopefully getting her to take an arm and not let go for the rest of the night.
David was about to reach up to her when, again, a hand grabbed his arm.
“Wait.” Lucille said. She nodded her head toward the shy bird on the piano stool. “Listen.”
Turner turned his ear toward the stage. His eyes grew wide and he shot a glance toward Redfield and his wife.
Lucille was smiling. “I think I know what to do with her.”
“What?” Her husband whispered.
“We can keep this up.” The woman was almost smiling, something Turner wasn’t sure he’d ever seen. “Who knows where this could take us?”
She opened her eyes and saw them looking at her. She knew they would make her stop so she was going to enjoy this as long as she could. Surely, they’d at least wait for the song to end before they dragged her back.
“You have a beautiful voice, my dear.” The piano man said.
“Thank you. I like to sing.” She blushed and said quietly. “You play beautifully.”
“Well, I am Ralston Scott. That’s what they pay me to do.”
“Okay.” She had no idea what he meant, but she glanced down at the mean lady and that nice man her brother called Dave. She knew her safe time was almost up.
“Sing something else.” The piano man said.
“Me?”
“Of course you.”
“Alright. What should I sing?”
“Anything you want.” He said.
She looked to see if they were frowning, but that silvery microphone got in the way. She pointed at it. “Can I sing there?”
“Of course.” The piano man seemed to think that was a funny thing to say.
She didn’t care. She got up and went right to that microphone. “Uhm…”
The boom of her voice suddenly made everyone in the room stop and look at her. At first it scared her, but she reached out and held on to the silver. She turned to the piano man and asked. “Do you know ‘Ever After Blue Sky’?”
“I should. I wrote it.”
“Okay.” She said.
There was some laughter, but it was not going to make her run this time. She was going to sing. She heard the notes of her favorite song and closed her eyes.
When her mouth opened she could hear herself clear and strong. It was wonderful. When she opened her eyes no one was laughing, but they were all looking at her. They were all looking at her and she could feel how much they liked her song. It made her want to sing more. She did.
They applauded. They applauded her when she finished. She couldn’t believe it. She just stood there and smiled. She didn’t know what else to do.
“Tell us your name again, hon,” The piano man said making her turn her head to him.
“My name is…”
He motioned for her to turn around and say her name in the silvery microphone so everyone could hear. “My name is…I…”
They caught her eye. Those three people and her brother were standing right there in front of her. The mean woman frowned, but the man named Dave smiled and nodded is head.
She remembered.
“My name is Darla…Darla Hutton.”
And Dave knew without a doubt, that a star was born.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)