Seeing the spot finally vacated, Tippy took her plate and nestled right in next to Billy. Ian watched her exercising as much control as she possibly could. He was finding it highly entertaining.
“Sugar Plum, those flowers we planted yesterday look so nice. This will be the prettiest backyard in the whole neighborhood.” Tippy smiled. “Don’t you think so Billy?”
Billy mouth was full of pancake. He just smiled and nodded his stuffed cheeks.
“You know I think it might be fun to have a garden.” Tippy shoved Billy’s shoulder a little. “We haven’t had a garden in years, but it would be fun, I think. Don’t you?”
Once again, Billy was in mid chew. He’d tried to communicate through facial expressions. Ronnie started giggling.
“Now, Tippy.” Colton chided her. “Where would you even put a garden?”
“We could find a place. Ian wants to take that wall down. Maybe he’d let Ronnie and I put out it there.” Tippy turned to the chewer. “What do you think? Wouldn’t that be a nice place for a garden?”
Billy tried hard to swallow a mouthful of pancakes. He choked and reached for his water.
Tippy looked at Billy. “Honey, you’re going to have to learn to get more in your mouth than that before you start choking. I’m Reese’s mother. I’ve seen him naked.”
Billy spit water and half chewed pancake all over the table.
“Mom!” Reese grabbed a towel and tried to help clean up the mess.
“What?” Tippy stood and took the roll of paper towels Ian handed her.
“Ew!” Ronnie said. “Billy barfed in my plate.”
“It’s okay, Puppy.” Ian was trying his best to keep a straight face, and handed his son a clean plate. “Let me have that one I’ll put it in the dishwasher.”
“Mrs. Shores…” Billy finally choked out. Ian secretly wondered if his buddy’s face would ever be anything but a shade of violet again.
“Now, Billyboy. The Mrs. thing will never do. Here, honey, have some more water.” She handed a glass and made him drink. “Better?”
Billy nodded his head and tried to wet the rags he’d just made of his throat.
“Why don’t you just call me Mom?” She said causing Billy to choke some more. “Honey, is there something wrong? Do I need to call a doctor?”
“Tippy, I think it’s your timing.” Ian, as much as he was enjoying it, he had to finally admit.
She looked up innocent. Colton finally looked at her. “Now Tippy, let the poor boy finish his breakfast, before you kill him and make us all have to take a shower again.”
Ronnie looked up at Ian. “I’m not sure what this is all about, but it’s kinda fun.” He whispered.
Reese leaned over and whispered. “You won’t think so when you bring you’re first girlfriend home to meet the family.”
Ronnie looked at Reese. “Is Uncle Billy your girlfriend?” That stopped the show.
Ian looked at Tippy. “You opened this can of worms…”
“Not a problem.” Tippy smiled and leaned toward Ronnie. “You see, Sugar Plum sometimes two men…”
“Stop!” Billy cried out. “Yes, Ronnie. The answer to your question is yes. Do you understand?”
“Sure.” He smiled. “But it’s so much fun tryin’ to make you adults figure out what to say.” He looked at his father. “Can I go outside now?”
“Yes, but take the rest of your milk and finish it.”
“’Kay…” He picked up his glass and nonchalantly went out side. The table watched him go. As soon as the door shut everyone looked back at Tippy.
“What?” She said, spearing some Virginia Ham from Colton’s plate. “I think that went well, don’t you all?”
Ian laughed and turned back to his cooking. Colt stole his ham back. Reese looked at Billy and said. “Welcome to the family.”
“She’s tagged you with a nickname…Billyboy. You are stuck with us now.” Ian said lighting a can of Sterno under a chaffing dish.
“You’re lucky Billy.” Colton said. “She waited a little over twenty-four hours.”
Tippy patted the side of her lips with her napkin. “I have no idea what you all are talking about.” She placed the napkin on her plate. “Now let me see pictures of my gran…your little girl.”
Billy smiled pulling out his wallet. “I may have one or two.”
“Oh she’s a little angel.” Tippy cooed after snatching one from his hands.
“That’s just the light. She’s a little hellion.” Ian said.
“Oh pooh!” Tippy said. “How could anything with a face that sweet?”
“He’s right.” Billy admitted. “My baby girl’s a doll, but the doll’s name is Chuckie. She’s into everything.”
“She’s just four.” Reese said. “Granted, a handful, but she’ll grow out of it.”
“What’s her name again?” Tippy asked handing one of the pictures to Colton.
“Vonda Rae.” Billy said. “We call her Vonnie.”
“That’s an interesting name.” Colton said. “Family names?”
Ian grinned and looked at Billy. “Tell ‘em…Billyboy. I can’t wait for that reaction.” He saw it register on Billy’s face. Ian reached across the table and removed the glasses in front of Billy and Tippy.
“Donna named her after her two favorite…” Billy wasn’t sure about going on.
Reese got it, too. He was grinning ear to ear. “Go on…if you don’t tell her you know Vonnie will.”
“Tell me what?” Tippy said.
Billy finally just spit it out. “Donna named her after her two favorite Miss Americas.”
Tippy just beamed. “Why that’s so sweet. Which two?”
The men in the room busted out laughing, all finally in on the joke.
“What’sa funny?” Tippy asked.
Ian gathered some composure. “Tippy I love you.”
“I love you, too, Baby Doll. Now what’sa funny?”
Billy wiped tears from his tears. “Vonda Kaye Van Dyke and…”
“Oh she’s a sweetheart. We have lunch every once and a while.” Tippy reached for some toast and smeared some apple butter on it. “Do you think Vonnie’d like to go with us sometime? Oh, what am I saying? Of course, she would.” She munched her toast. “Okay, Vonda and….I can’t think of a Miss America named Rae…well that girl who had the Hawaiian name. Is that the one?”
Of course the men all convulsed again. “Okay, you boys are just bein’ mean.” Tippy tossed her toast on the plate and crossed her arms.
Colton looked at his wife. “Sorry, we can’t help it…Mamie Rae!”
“She’s named after me?” Tippy squealed. “Its just fate! My first grand daughter was named after me and she didn’t even know I was destined to be her granny!” She hugged Billy till he turned blue. “Oh let’s call her. Let’s call her right now!”
“Hold on Granny.” Colton snapped her attention. “Just calm down. Let the boys, and the little doll rest a little bit. You’ve got plenty of time. Just finish your breakfast.”
Tippy held up her hands. “You’re right, Poppy. You’re right.” She picked up her fork. “But next time you call her, tell her we send our love.”
“Of course.” Billy was started to get his breathing back.
“I just can’t believe she was named after me.”
“It took Donna two weeks to decide between Vonda Rae and Mamie Kaye. I was just getting used to calling her M.K. when she switched it up on me and went in the other direction.”
“Either way, it was better than what you wanted to name her.” Ian snorted.
Billy looked up from his pancakes. “I thought Petra D’lynne was pretty.”
“Petra D’Lynne?” Tippy said. She looked at Billy and then to Reese. “When you two have children of your own, keep this man away from the birth certificate.”
“Tippy, let the boys get past the you’re so hot let’s screw stage before you go bouncing their babies on your knees.” Colton told her.
Billy only coughed on that one. Reese smiled. “Besides, I don’t think either one of us quite have child bearing hips.”
“You know what I mean.” Tippy said. “Now tell me, Billy…”
Showing posts with label Miss America. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Miss America. Show all posts
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
Vignette #81: Chats
The rodent with attitude jumped back up on the couch, sat on his haunches and blinked at Ian.
“Do we need to have a little chat, too?” He asked it.
It blinked again then took a precarious step towards him. “Oh no, you don’t.” Ian made an invisible box around himself with his hands. “This is my space.” He made a second invisible box around the cat. “That is yours.”
“Who you talking to, Baby Doll?” Tippy made her entrance into the living room.
“Just setting a few ground rules for that thing.” He pointed at the smoky colored long haired descendant of Satan.
“Cats don’t follow rules. At least not yours anyway.” She bent over and picked up the cat rubbing her nose on his. “Do ya, Sweetness?”
“Tippy, that’s just disgusting. Don’t touch its nose. You’ll get bola bola, or typhoid or cooties or something.” Ian shivered.
“You just don’t like cats because you can’t make them fit into your little patterns.”
“I don’t like them because they are unevolved forms of bacteria covered in hair.” Ian pointed at it. “And that one has it out for me. From the moment it popped out of the barn it’s been plotting…waiting for just the right moment.”
“Right moment for what?”
Ian studied it, now on it’s back in Tippy’s arms totally self-involved in having it’s belly stroked. “I’m not sure, but something horrific.”
“That’s just silly.”
“When Ronnie’s not around, it looks at me with those glowy black eyes, likes it’s storing up power to bore holes in my head while I’m sleeping.”
“Then why do you keep it around, Baby Doll?”
“Because it’s Ronnie’s, and Ronnie loves it, so it gets a pass until it slips up and reveals it’s evil plot to overthrow the universe.”
“Papa’s paying me ten dollars a week to keep it away from him.”
“Five dollars a week.”
Ronnie looked at Tippy. Tippy looked back at Ronnie. “I think he’s right Ronnie. This sweet little kitty is draining away parts of his mind.”
“Must be.” Ronnie shook his head in pity. “We agreed on ten dollars a week allowance, but then I left him alone in the room with the kitty. It’s slowly suckin’ his brains out.”
“Not happening.”
“Ten dollars a week or the brain suckin’ thing?”
“Either.”
“Well, just remember when you’re a drooling idiot with cat fur coming out your ears you had a chance for protection, but were too cheap.” Tippy looked at Ian.
“I think, for now, five dollars a week is plenty.” Ian said. “What do you need ten dollars a week for?”
“What do I need five for?” Ronnie put his hands on his hips. “Wait a minute. I don’t think that was a good argument.”
Tippy shoved the cat in Ian’s face. “Wanna hold the kitty?”
“Stop that!” Ian jumped back.
She took a step closer. “You sure?”
“Stop threatening me with that vermin. I’m sure the SPCA wouldn’t be happy.”
“What’s the SPCA?” Ronnie asked.
“A group of fanatics that keep Miss Americas from torturing people with furry things.”
“You’re just afraid of cats.” Tippy teased.
“I am not!” Ian insisted.
“They are so precious.” She rubbed under its chin, who in turn closed its eyes and purred loudly. “See, it’s so happy.”
“My point exactly.” Ian insisted again. “When it’s happy it sounds like a motor revving up to grind it’s unsuspecting prey into bits like a…like a Chubb Chubb!”
“What’s a Chubb Chubb?” Ronnie asked.
Tippy and Ian looked at each other. “Oooh…The Chubb Chubbs.”
“I’ll get a copy for him.” Tippy said.
“I already have one, but a back up wouldn’t hurt.” Ian said. “What brings you over besides torturing me?”
“I thought you might need a little parenting help.”
“Afraid I can’t do it?” Ian asked.
“Well, I didn’t have visions of Adam Sandler asking Ronnie if he could wipe his own butt, but I thought there might be a few things I could help with.”
“So you come over here and shove a lower life form in my face to show my son how to get his way?”
“Cool!” Ronnie piped in. “Does that mean I get my ten dollars a week?”
“Holding at five.”
“Can I hold the kitty?”
“Kitty’s fine, dear.” Tippy smiled at the boy. “Now, tell me Sugar Plum, what kind of chores do you have to do for your five a week?”
“Well…make my bed, pick up my clothes, help keep the house clean and…” Ronnie did a dead on imitation of Ian “…Keep that evil varmint away from me.”
“Uh hmm.” Tippy nodded her head. “Honey, that sounds like five dollars a week to me. I’m assuming you get extra when you do more?”
“Yes’m” He looked sincerely at Tippy. “I offered to gather the eggs and help in the garden, but we don’t have none. Kin you believe that?”
“I see.” She looked at Ian. “That would definitely have called for a bigger allowance. Now, Ian do you have a problem with paying the child more if he does more chores?”
“Not at all.”
“Okay.” Tippy looked at Ronnie. “Well, someone is going to have to feed the cat and change the litter box. I’m sure that’s worth ten bucks a week.”
“Oh my God! Litter box?” Ian shrieked. “It doesn’t use the toilet?”
“’Corse not.” Ronnie said. “If it did you’d find a way to knock it in and flush.”
“Can we train it to use the toilet?” Ian asked.
“No!” Resounded from both Ronnie and Tippy.
“Okay, Ronnie. You keep that thing fed and make sure I never ever think about a litter box again and that’s worth ten a week. Deal?”
“Deal!”
Tippy looked at her watch. “Baby Doll. Shouldn’t you be heading off to work?”
“Usually by this time, but…”
“Well, why don’t you scoot along? Ronnie and I have things to do today.”
“I thought I’d take off until we got settled.”
“Baby Doll, this is a busy time of year for you. You have to go to work.”
“Yes, but I haven’t had time to arrange for a babysitter or anything. That’s not something you can rush.”
“Of course not, but between me and the boys we’ve got you covered for a while.”
“I can’t ask you to…”
“Nonsense. It’s what family is for. Now you’ve got a fall schedule to put together. Your son is your first priority, that’s a given but other people depend on you, too. You can’t let them down without letting him down. We’ll all work together to find the proper balance.”
“Well…”
“You go in and figure out how to make all of America tune in and Ronnie and I will go pick out some clothes and a few things he needs that he doesn’t have any more.”
“Tippy I do not want you spoiling this child.”
“Oh, I’m real hard to spoil.” Ronnie piped in.
Tippy smiled. “I’ll work real hard to do that then.” She turned back to Ian. “And I’ve made an appointment with the vet.”
“You mean pediatrician.”
“No vet. For the kitty.” Tippy held the kitten up. “He’s a little burned and we need to get shots and that sort of thing.”
“Just put it away.” Ian waved his hands in the air.
Tippy handed the cat to Ronnie and reached in her purse. “Now I took the liberty of writing down a few things that you need to do.” She handed Ian a small notebook. “…said pediatrician, schools.”
“Schools.” Ian flipped open the pad. “We’ve talked about schools.”
“I’m not sure if you need to call or if Mr. Jude needs to call. I’m sure they know what’s happened but you’ll need to get his files transferred. It’s all written down and I’ve highlighted the priorities. I know how you like to how everything written down.”
“Thank you Tippy. This helps a lot.”
“Now Sugar Plum, how many more weeks of school did you have left?”
“Ummm…” Ronnie thought hard.
“When did you get out for summer vacation?” Tippy asked.
“May 24th.” Ronnie answered immediately.
“We could probably arrange for him to just take tests here at home and then take our time finding a school to enroll him in for fall.”
“But that would mean having a tutor.” Ian pulled out a pen and wrote tutor on a sheet in the pad.
“Baby Doll, I can do that. I have two PhD’s and I home schooled the boys for a while. We just need to double check and make sure it satisfies academic requirements. No need to panic. You just need to make the first phone calls and give the okay for me to take over.”
Ian began to write more on the pad. Tippy reached over and took the pen from his hand. “Okay, Baby Doll. Take a deep breath. This is all going to be easier than putting together a multi-million dollar series deal. Where’s your back pack?”
“On the chair in my bedroom. Where else would it be?”
“Of course.” Tippy smiled. “Ronnie, honey, run upstairs and get Ian’s back pack.”
“’Kay.” He headed toward the stairs.
“And look around up there for his cell phone. Your in charge of that now, too.” Tippy yelled after him. She turned to Ian. “Okay, now let’s you and me have a little chat.”
Ian blinked at Tippy. “’kay?”
“I know you’re a little overwhelmed. That’s okay, to be expected.”
“Maybe a little.”
“Maybe a lot.” She smiled. “When you get overwhelmed you tend to get extremely anal retentive and start making lists of lists.”
Ian closed the pad and laid it on the coffee table.
“You’re a good man, Ian Justyn, a strong man. But you’re a man, so you have a few faults. Nothing major, just annoying.”
Ian squinted his eyes.
“Like that one.” Tippy smiled and Ian laughed. “The one fault you’ve got to work on is to not be afraid to ask for help, even from your son. We all love you, and because of that we’re willing to let you lean, because you let us lean on you. It kind of keeps us all walking in a straight line.”
“I’ve just never had anyone to…”
Tippy cupped Ian’s chin in her hand. “And now you do. You are so good at putting your head down and plowing through adversity. Just remember now there’s more than just yourself helping you to do it. Now, I’ll take care of Ronnie while you’re at work. It’ll give me something to do. Colton’s busy with the show now and my boys are all grown. You and Ronnie can be my pet project.”
“Thank you, Tippy. I’ll do my best to be good at this.”
“Baby Doll, there’s no instruction manuel. You just kind of make it up as you go along. Being a parent is God’s way of getting even with you for everything you did to your parents growing up.”
“I didn’t have any parents growing up.” Ian reminded her.
“See?” Tippy smiled. “No sins to pay for. This’ll be a breeze. Now, just remember you’re in charge. You probably haven’t noticed but I can be a little pushy…”
“You can?”
“Just a little.” She playfully patted him on the cheek. “Now, you just make sure your family knows how you want things done, and we’ll all pitch in. You and I haven’t known each other long, but we’ve got a good partnership going already.”
“You mean who ever gets to it first does it and who ever comes along next does it the right way?”
“Exactly. Now, you are Ronnie’s daddy…”
“Papa, he wants to call me Papa.”
“That’s darlin’…” Tippy smiled and launched right into the Tippy Steamroller Express.
“Now, Ronnie and I will take the cat to the vet and the groomer, then we’ll go shopping. I’ll text you every step of the way. Ronnie, see if you can find a red colored blackberry, you know a phone like thing. Your Papa will need that, too. I just bought a few clothes for him. I thought it would be best to let him pick out his own wardrobe. Is there anything in particular you think he might need? Just text me if you think of anything. We should also think about arranging some play dates with other children. I’ll call the Tyson’s. Their boys are younger, but they’re so outdoorsy and all boy. Do you think Ronnie likes to fish?”
“I like fishin’” Ronnie chirped in as he hauled Ian’s backpack down the stairs.
“Have you ever been fishing on the ocean?” Tippy helped him with the backpack.
“No, jus’ the creek.”
“Well, you’re Papa and I have some friends with two little boys we thought you might like to meet. They go fishing on the ocean. Would you like that?”
“Sure. Will you go with me Papa?”
“Of course.” Tippy was busy putting Ian’s backpack on him and heading him toward the door. “Wait! Phone…”
“In the little zipper thingy. I found it on the floor by the bed.” Ronnie said.
“Ronnie, do you mind if I go to work? If you want me to stay with you, I will.”
“I reckon it’s awright.” Ronnie said. “What time will you be back?”
“I’m not sure, but I will make it a point to be home for dinner. I think we should make dinner and eat together every day we can.”
“I’d like that.”
Tippy handed Ian his car keys and walked him to the door. “Baby Doll, keep your blackberry in your pocket and we’ll text you all day long. When we’re done how ‘bout if I bring him over to the studio and you can come home together.”
“Yeah. That’s good.” Ian couldn’t say much more because Tippy had shoved him into the garage and shut the door.
She turned to Ronnie. “Okay, Sugar Plum. Let’s see just how hard you are to spoil.”
“It’s gonna take a lot, but you’ll vench’ly get there.” Ronnie smiled.
“Do we need to have a little chat, too?” He asked it.
It blinked again then took a precarious step towards him. “Oh no, you don’t.” Ian made an invisible box around himself with his hands. “This is my space.” He made a second invisible box around the cat. “That is yours.”
“Who you talking to, Baby Doll?” Tippy made her entrance into the living room.
“Just setting a few ground rules for that thing.” He pointed at the smoky colored long haired descendant of Satan.
“Cats don’t follow rules. At least not yours anyway.” She bent over and picked up the cat rubbing her nose on his. “Do ya, Sweetness?”
“Tippy, that’s just disgusting. Don’t touch its nose. You’ll get bola bola, or typhoid or cooties or something.” Ian shivered.
“You just don’t like cats because you can’t make them fit into your little patterns.”
“I don’t like them because they are unevolved forms of bacteria covered in hair.” Ian pointed at it. “And that one has it out for me. From the moment it popped out of the barn it’s been plotting…waiting for just the right moment.”
“Right moment for what?”
Ian studied it, now on it’s back in Tippy’s arms totally self-involved in having it’s belly stroked. “I’m not sure, but something horrific.”
“That’s just silly.”
“When Ronnie’s not around, it looks at me with those glowy black eyes, likes it’s storing up power to bore holes in my head while I’m sleeping.”
“Then why do you keep it around, Baby Doll?”
“Because it’s Ronnie’s, and Ronnie loves it, so it gets a pass until it slips up and reveals it’s evil plot to overthrow the universe.”
“Papa’s paying me ten dollars a week to keep it away from him.”
“Five dollars a week.”
Ronnie looked at Tippy. Tippy looked back at Ronnie. “I think he’s right Ronnie. This sweet little kitty is draining away parts of his mind.”
“Must be.” Ronnie shook his head in pity. “We agreed on ten dollars a week allowance, but then I left him alone in the room with the kitty. It’s slowly suckin’ his brains out.”
“Not happening.”
“Ten dollars a week or the brain suckin’ thing?”
“Either.”
“Well, just remember when you’re a drooling idiot with cat fur coming out your ears you had a chance for protection, but were too cheap.” Tippy looked at Ian.
“I think, for now, five dollars a week is plenty.” Ian said. “What do you need ten dollars a week for?”
“What do I need five for?” Ronnie put his hands on his hips. “Wait a minute. I don’t think that was a good argument.”
Tippy shoved the cat in Ian’s face. “Wanna hold the kitty?”
“Stop that!” Ian jumped back.
She took a step closer. “You sure?”
“Stop threatening me with that vermin. I’m sure the SPCA wouldn’t be happy.”
“What’s the SPCA?” Ronnie asked.
“A group of fanatics that keep Miss Americas from torturing people with furry things.”
“You’re just afraid of cats.” Tippy teased.
“I am not!” Ian insisted.
“They are so precious.” She rubbed under its chin, who in turn closed its eyes and purred loudly. “See, it’s so happy.”
“My point exactly.” Ian insisted again. “When it’s happy it sounds like a motor revving up to grind it’s unsuspecting prey into bits like a…like a Chubb Chubb!”
“What’s a Chubb Chubb?” Ronnie asked.
Tippy and Ian looked at each other. “Oooh…The Chubb Chubbs.”
“I’ll get a copy for him.” Tippy said.
“I already have one, but a back up wouldn’t hurt.” Ian said. “What brings you over besides torturing me?”
“I thought you might need a little parenting help.”
“Afraid I can’t do it?” Ian asked.
“Well, I didn’t have visions of Adam Sandler asking Ronnie if he could wipe his own butt, but I thought there might be a few things I could help with.”
“So you come over here and shove a lower life form in my face to show my son how to get his way?”
“Cool!” Ronnie piped in. “Does that mean I get my ten dollars a week?”
“Holding at five.”
“Can I hold the kitty?”
“Kitty’s fine, dear.” Tippy smiled at the boy. “Now, tell me Sugar Plum, what kind of chores do you have to do for your five a week?”
“Well…make my bed, pick up my clothes, help keep the house clean and…” Ronnie did a dead on imitation of Ian “…Keep that evil varmint away from me.”
“Uh hmm.” Tippy nodded her head. “Honey, that sounds like five dollars a week to me. I’m assuming you get extra when you do more?”
“Yes’m” He looked sincerely at Tippy. “I offered to gather the eggs and help in the garden, but we don’t have none. Kin you believe that?”
“I see.” She looked at Ian. “That would definitely have called for a bigger allowance. Now, Ian do you have a problem with paying the child more if he does more chores?”
“Not at all.”
“Okay.” Tippy looked at Ronnie. “Well, someone is going to have to feed the cat and change the litter box. I’m sure that’s worth ten bucks a week.”
“Oh my God! Litter box?” Ian shrieked. “It doesn’t use the toilet?”
“’Corse not.” Ronnie said. “If it did you’d find a way to knock it in and flush.”
“Can we train it to use the toilet?” Ian asked.
“No!” Resounded from both Ronnie and Tippy.
“Okay, Ronnie. You keep that thing fed and make sure I never ever think about a litter box again and that’s worth ten a week. Deal?”
“Deal!”
Tippy looked at her watch. “Baby Doll. Shouldn’t you be heading off to work?”
“Usually by this time, but…”
“Well, why don’t you scoot along? Ronnie and I have things to do today.”
“I thought I’d take off until we got settled.”
“Baby Doll, this is a busy time of year for you. You have to go to work.”
“Yes, but I haven’t had time to arrange for a babysitter or anything. That’s not something you can rush.”
“Of course not, but between me and the boys we’ve got you covered for a while.”
“I can’t ask you to…”
“Nonsense. It’s what family is for. Now you’ve got a fall schedule to put together. Your son is your first priority, that’s a given but other people depend on you, too. You can’t let them down without letting him down. We’ll all work together to find the proper balance.”
“Well…”
“You go in and figure out how to make all of America tune in and Ronnie and I will go pick out some clothes and a few things he needs that he doesn’t have any more.”
“Tippy I do not want you spoiling this child.”
“Oh, I’m real hard to spoil.” Ronnie piped in.
Tippy smiled. “I’ll work real hard to do that then.” She turned back to Ian. “And I’ve made an appointment with the vet.”
“You mean pediatrician.”
“No vet. For the kitty.” Tippy held the kitten up. “He’s a little burned and we need to get shots and that sort of thing.”
“Just put it away.” Ian waved his hands in the air.
Tippy handed the cat to Ronnie and reached in her purse. “Now I took the liberty of writing down a few things that you need to do.” She handed Ian a small notebook. “…said pediatrician, schools.”
“Schools.” Ian flipped open the pad. “We’ve talked about schools.”
“I’m not sure if you need to call or if Mr. Jude needs to call. I’m sure they know what’s happened but you’ll need to get his files transferred. It’s all written down and I’ve highlighted the priorities. I know how you like to how everything written down.”
“Thank you Tippy. This helps a lot.”
“Now Sugar Plum, how many more weeks of school did you have left?”
“Ummm…” Ronnie thought hard.
“When did you get out for summer vacation?” Tippy asked.
“May 24th.” Ronnie answered immediately.
“We could probably arrange for him to just take tests here at home and then take our time finding a school to enroll him in for fall.”
“But that would mean having a tutor.” Ian pulled out a pen and wrote tutor on a sheet in the pad.
“Baby Doll, I can do that. I have two PhD’s and I home schooled the boys for a while. We just need to double check and make sure it satisfies academic requirements. No need to panic. You just need to make the first phone calls and give the okay for me to take over.”
Ian began to write more on the pad. Tippy reached over and took the pen from his hand. “Okay, Baby Doll. Take a deep breath. This is all going to be easier than putting together a multi-million dollar series deal. Where’s your back pack?”
“On the chair in my bedroom. Where else would it be?”
“Of course.” Tippy smiled. “Ronnie, honey, run upstairs and get Ian’s back pack.”
“’Kay.” He headed toward the stairs.
“And look around up there for his cell phone. Your in charge of that now, too.” Tippy yelled after him. She turned to Ian. “Okay, now let’s you and me have a little chat.”
Ian blinked at Tippy. “’kay?”
“I know you’re a little overwhelmed. That’s okay, to be expected.”
“Maybe a little.”
“Maybe a lot.” She smiled. “When you get overwhelmed you tend to get extremely anal retentive and start making lists of lists.”
Ian closed the pad and laid it on the coffee table.
“You’re a good man, Ian Justyn, a strong man. But you’re a man, so you have a few faults. Nothing major, just annoying.”
Ian squinted his eyes.
“Like that one.” Tippy smiled and Ian laughed. “The one fault you’ve got to work on is to not be afraid to ask for help, even from your son. We all love you, and because of that we’re willing to let you lean, because you let us lean on you. It kind of keeps us all walking in a straight line.”
“I’ve just never had anyone to…”
Tippy cupped Ian’s chin in her hand. “And now you do. You are so good at putting your head down and plowing through adversity. Just remember now there’s more than just yourself helping you to do it. Now, I’ll take care of Ronnie while you’re at work. It’ll give me something to do. Colton’s busy with the show now and my boys are all grown. You and Ronnie can be my pet project.”
“Thank you, Tippy. I’ll do my best to be good at this.”
“Baby Doll, there’s no instruction manuel. You just kind of make it up as you go along. Being a parent is God’s way of getting even with you for everything you did to your parents growing up.”
“I didn’t have any parents growing up.” Ian reminded her.
“See?” Tippy smiled. “No sins to pay for. This’ll be a breeze. Now, just remember you’re in charge. You probably haven’t noticed but I can be a little pushy…”
“You can?”
“Just a little.” She playfully patted him on the cheek. “Now, you just make sure your family knows how you want things done, and we’ll all pitch in. You and I haven’t known each other long, but we’ve got a good partnership going already.”
“You mean who ever gets to it first does it and who ever comes along next does it the right way?”
“Exactly. Now, you are Ronnie’s daddy…”
“Papa, he wants to call me Papa.”
“That’s darlin’…” Tippy smiled and launched right into the Tippy Steamroller Express.
“Now, Ronnie and I will take the cat to the vet and the groomer, then we’ll go shopping. I’ll text you every step of the way. Ronnie, see if you can find a red colored blackberry, you know a phone like thing. Your Papa will need that, too. I just bought a few clothes for him. I thought it would be best to let him pick out his own wardrobe. Is there anything in particular you think he might need? Just text me if you think of anything. We should also think about arranging some play dates with other children. I’ll call the Tyson’s. Their boys are younger, but they’re so outdoorsy and all boy. Do you think Ronnie likes to fish?”
“I like fishin’” Ronnie chirped in as he hauled Ian’s backpack down the stairs.
“Have you ever been fishing on the ocean?” Tippy helped him with the backpack.
“No, jus’ the creek.”
“Well, you’re Papa and I have some friends with two little boys we thought you might like to meet. They go fishing on the ocean. Would you like that?”
“Sure. Will you go with me Papa?”
“Of course.” Tippy was busy putting Ian’s backpack on him and heading him toward the door. “Wait! Phone…”
“In the little zipper thingy. I found it on the floor by the bed.” Ronnie said.
“Ronnie, do you mind if I go to work? If you want me to stay with you, I will.”
“I reckon it’s awright.” Ronnie said. “What time will you be back?”
“I’m not sure, but I will make it a point to be home for dinner. I think we should make dinner and eat together every day we can.”
“I’d like that.”
Tippy handed Ian his car keys and walked him to the door. “Baby Doll, keep your blackberry in your pocket and we’ll text you all day long. When we’re done how ‘bout if I bring him over to the studio and you can come home together.”
“Yeah. That’s good.” Ian couldn’t say much more because Tippy had shoved him into the garage and shut the door.
She turned to Ronnie. “Okay, Sugar Plum. Let’s see just how hard you are to spoil.”
“It’s gonna take a lot, but you’ll vench’ly get there.” Ronnie smiled.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Vignette #28: Details
Ian awoke that morning to the sound of his temples pounding. He had never had a hangover before. His mouth was unusually dry as cotton. He popped a couple of aspirin. As he showered and readied himself for the day, he wondered why now? He had never been a heavy drinker and he had certainly “tied one on” before, but he had never felt the after effects like this.
Getting dressed and checking the time, he decided it maybe it was just his due. He was almost thirty. His body was changing. Ian made a mental note to watch any and all alcohol intake. If this is what it was going to do to him from now on, he’d stick with tea.
Speaking of which, he poured him self a glass and the aspirin started to kick in. He felt his almost usual morning energy begin and he decided to do a little cooking for Tippy’s “lunch thingy” at one o’clock. He hadn’t actually cooked in a while and enjoyed the rest of the morning, whipping up this and that, generally making a mess of his kitchen.
At one o’clock he proudly gathered his concoctions and headed to the back yard. Just as he began to step through the opening in the shrubs, Ian heard Tippy’s voice say “Hey!” from the other side. A bread roll came sailing through landing square on his forehead.
“Dammit, Miss Congeniality, I am coming!” He rubbed the crumbs off his face and stepped through to the dark side.
When he adjusted to his new surroundings he was pleased to see the Shores’ backyard set for an informal. Everyone was dressed, even Colton, who was in the opposite corner flipping burgers on what Ian’s uncle Nate would have called a ‘swanky grill’.
“Baby Doll, you made it!” Tippy hugged him almost causing him to drop his armload.
“It wasn’t difficult. I just followed the flying buns.”
Tippy smacked him playfully on the cheek, “Now not everyone is here yet, but let me introduce you.” She started to pull him off in the direction of a small clique chatting.
“Uh…Tippy, could I put this stuff down first?” He held up his armload. It was below her breast level. She probably couldn’t see it.
“Mercy sakes, Baby Doll, what is all this?” she asked, helping him to put it down.
“Well, I was feeling Paula Deanish this morning so I decided to supply a few touches of the South to this shindig.”
“You cooked?” Her eyes got big.
“Don’t worry; I’m not that bad a cook.”
“Oh, honey, it’s not that. I’m just surprised. Is there anything you can’t do?”
“Anyone can whip together some potato salad and a cheesecake.”
“Cheesecake? You made a cheesecake?”
“Well, no.” He peered into one of the bags and started pulling things out. “I made two, one New York style and one chocolate.”
Tippy sat the bag she was holding down on the nearest table and pulled out a cake pan, removing the lid and looking at it like it was a prized pig. “You made a cheesecake.”
“Yes.”
She looked at the cheesecake, then at Ian and back to the pie, “Colt, honey, we’re getting a divorce and I’m marrying Ian.”
Colton looked casually up from burger duty, “Okay Tippy, can we still have sex?”
“Well, of course!”
“Then I’m okay with it.”
Tippy quickly rummaged through the bags, squealing with glee at every little piece she pulled out. “Oh, I love this...”, “Oh my grandma used to make that….”, “Did you use Velveeta…?” Ian didn’t care if any of it tasted good; he just enjoyed seeing the look on Tippy’s face.
“Mmmmm, from now on...” Tippy cooed as licked the baked beans off the finger she had just dunked in the crock pot, “I’m not catering anything, I’m just telling you how many people are coming over.”
“I had fun,” Ian admitted, “besides it helped me get over the hangover.”
Tippy looked at him and grinned, “Did you have a good time last night, Baby Doll? I’ve been dying to know, but Colt refused to let me call or come over.”
A voice from the other side of the table piped in, “I don’t know if he had a good time, but everyone else there had a great time, and this man provided it!”
Tippy’s big brown eyes went huge, “Spill!”
Ian looked at the ground, “Aw, it was fun that’s all, and apparently I had a little too much to drink, either that or the scotch in California is a lot higher proof than back home.”
“Couldn’t tell you were drunk by the way you were singing and dancing. You were hot and on fire.”
“You didn’t!” Tippy grabbed Ian’s arm, “you sang and danced? I didn’t know you could sing and dance!”
“I can’t. That’s why I must have been drunk.”
“Buddy,” the man said as he took a slug from whatever was in his glass, “then you need to get drunk more often.”
Ian blushed and Tippy slapped him on the chest, “Oh my God! I’d have killed to see that!” She pinched Ian’s butt and sort of whispered, “You dog! Did ‘ja get laid, honey?”
“Tip? Someone’s at the front door and you gave Inez the afternoon off.” Colton yelled.
“Ian, don’t move! I want to hear every detail.” And she was off like, well, Mamie Rae Tipton.
The man stuck out his hand, “Jeremy Tyson.” He didn’t have to introduce himself. Ian had recognized him immediately.
“Ian Justyn” he said as he took the hand a shook it.
Jeremy was one of the biggest box office tickets in the film industry. An Aussie wild boy, with the reputation of a foul mouth, but well respected and admired among his peers. He had been a hard partying playboy until he shocked the industry by marrying Susan Andrews, sister half of America’s most successful pop duo, surprising everyone by not only making the marriage last but gaining the reputation of being a devoted family man.
Susan Andrews, America’s sweetheart, was not far from his side. Her stunning alto was the reason the recordings with her brother had rocketed to the top of the charts making them one of the all time best selling artists world wide. Her brother, a reputed temperamental control freak, was considered the creative genius, but it was Susan who had the talent. She, too, was anxious to introduce herself.
“You were wonderful last night,” She gushed like a teenager.
Ian was having a hard time swallowing it all, but thanked her politely and laughed when she asked what label he recorded for. He explained that he wasn’t a performer that he was in development for a network and left it at that.
“Well, if you change you mind, please, I’d love to talk with you about recording for my label.” She chirped.
“Well, next time I get drunk enough to think I could be a music superstar I’ll give you a call.” Ian had forgotten that when her brother had died unexpectedly three years ago of heart failure, Susan now had controlling interest in the mega music empire her talent had helped forge.
Susan handed him her card, “Why don’t we get together and talk anyway, perhaps we could be of mutual benefit to each other some time.”
Jeremy chided his wife. “Now, Suzie, it’s a day off. You and Ian can take over the world tomorrow. Today is a play date, remember?”
She smiled, so captivating, Ian’s heart jumped. “Okay, darling, I remember.” She slipped her arm around her hubby’s waist. “We make a perfect team. I calm him down and he makes me remember what it’s like to be human and enjoy life.” Jeremy squeezed his wife’s shoulders and kissed her on the side of the forehead. Ian thought how gorgeous their children must be.
“I see you’ve met the Tysons,” Tippy returned, “and I’m sure they won’t mind if I steal you away and introduce you around before we eat.” And in Tippy style before anyone had a chance to say anything, Ian was whooshed around like the new Miss America, introduced to all there.
He met the couple who lived across the street; Michele Alexander, Terry Myers and “Call Me Chip” Ellison who lived in the apartment building to his other side. Also in tow, were Jesse, of course, and Tippy’s oldest son Reece, as were Wella, with the man she has met last night, Blake, and three interchangeable starlets whose names he didn’t remember, but recognized them from either television or film.
Also in tow was the second third of what the industry called "The Musketeers” franchise, Trampus Scott, whom along with Jeremy Tyson and a missing Lucian Jahn had a string of hit action films. The final guest was a young man that Ian recognized but couldn’t place.
“And this is Seven Wyatt”, Tippy introduced. “He works for you.”
Ian shook his hand, “He does?”
“Sort of, I’m on “Sebastian Manor”, Seven explained, “so I kind of work for you…for now.”
“Moving on when you’re contracts up?” Ian asked.
“Everyone knows that HRT wants to get out of daytime, so when the show’s contract with the network is up, we’ll all be looking for new jobs.”
Ian smiled, “Well, I don’t know about that,but I for one don’t think that’s a wise move.”
Seven nodded, looking at the ground, showing off the long black eyelashes that made the fans of the show swoon. “It’s a piece of crap and we all know it’s a piece of crap.”
“You’re right. It’s terrible. At one time it was so bad it was fun, but that got old after a while.” Ian agreed. “Daytime isn’t my baby, but many of you are very talented and I’m sure that no matter what happens, work will not be hard to find.”
“Oh please, how would anyone even know if we had talent? Have you tried to say those words?” Ian knew how bad the scripts were. They had made him cringe every time he forced himself to watch.
“As I see it,” he responded truthfully, “Any one who can say that garbage in those ridiculous plot lines and make it sound like normal conversation has talent. Prime example, how long has your character been tied up in that basement naked?”
Seven laughed, “I get your point. I don’t understand why I’m naked, other than the fact that because of the budget cuts they started with my wardrobe.”
“See…” Ian pointed at him, “Talent…and hard abs don’t hurt.”
Getting dressed and checking the time, he decided it maybe it was just his due. He was almost thirty. His body was changing. Ian made a mental note to watch any and all alcohol intake. If this is what it was going to do to him from now on, he’d stick with tea.
Speaking of which, he poured him self a glass and the aspirin started to kick in. He felt his almost usual morning energy begin and he decided to do a little cooking for Tippy’s “lunch thingy” at one o’clock. He hadn’t actually cooked in a while and enjoyed the rest of the morning, whipping up this and that, generally making a mess of his kitchen.
At one o’clock he proudly gathered his concoctions and headed to the back yard. Just as he began to step through the opening in the shrubs, Ian heard Tippy’s voice say “Hey!” from the other side. A bread roll came sailing through landing square on his forehead.
“Dammit, Miss Congeniality, I am coming!” He rubbed the crumbs off his face and stepped through to the dark side.
When he adjusted to his new surroundings he was pleased to see the Shores’ backyard set for an informal. Everyone was dressed, even Colton, who was in the opposite corner flipping burgers on what Ian’s uncle Nate would have called a ‘swanky grill’.
“Baby Doll, you made it!” Tippy hugged him almost causing him to drop his armload.
“It wasn’t difficult. I just followed the flying buns.”
Tippy smacked him playfully on the cheek, “Now not everyone is here yet, but let me introduce you.” She started to pull him off in the direction of a small clique chatting.
“Uh…Tippy, could I put this stuff down first?” He held up his armload. It was below her breast level. She probably couldn’t see it.
“Mercy sakes, Baby Doll, what is all this?” she asked, helping him to put it down.
“Well, I was feeling Paula Deanish this morning so I decided to supply a few touches of the South to this shindig.”
“You cooked?” Her eyes got big.
“Don’t worry; I’m not that bad a cook.”
“Oh, honey, it’s not that. I’m just surprised. Is there anything you can’t do?”
“Anyone can whip together some potato salad and a cheesecake.”
“Cheesecake? You made a cheesecake?”
“Well, no.” He peered into one of the bags and started pulling things out. “I made two, one New York style and one chocolate.”
Tippy sat the bag she was holding down on the nearest table and pulled out a cake pan, removing the lid and looking at it like it was a prized pig. “You made a cheesecake.”
“Yes.”
She looked at the cheesecake, then at Ian and back to the pie, “Colt, honey, we’re getting a divorce and I’m marrying Ian.”
Colton looked casually up from burger duty, “Okay Tippy, can we still have sex?”
“Well, of course!”
“Then I’m okay with it.”
Tippy quickly rummaged through the bags, squealing with glee at every little piece she pulled out. “Oh, I love this...”, “Oh my grandma used to make that….”, “Did you use Velveeta…?” Ian didn’t care if any of it tasted good; he just enjoyed seeing the look on Tippy’s face.
“Mmmmm, from now on...” Tippy cooed as licked the baked beans off the finger she had just dunked in the crock pot, “I’m not catering anything, I’m just telling you how many people are coming over.”
“I had fun,” Ian admitted, “besides it helped me get over the hangover.”
Tippy looked at him and grinned, “Did you have a good time last night, Baby Doll? I’ve been dying to know, but Colt refused to let me call or come over.”
A voice from the other side of the table piped in, “I don’t know if he had a good time, but everyone else there had a great time, and this man provided it!”
Tippy’s big brown eyes went huge, “Spill!”
Ian looked at the ground, “Aw, it was fun that’s all, and apparently I had a little too much to drink, either that or the scotch in California is a lot higher proof than back home.”
“Couldn’t tell you were drunk by the way you were singing and dancing. You were hot and on fire.”
“You didn’t!” Tippy grabbed Ian’s arm, “you sang and danced? I didn’t know you could sing and dance!”
“I can’t. That’s why I must have been drunk.”
“Buddy,” the man said as he took a slug from whatever was in his glass, “then you need to get drunk more often.”
Ian blushed and Tippy slapped him on the chest, “Oh my God! I’d have killed to see that!” She pinched Ian’s butt and sort of whispered, “You dog! Did ‘ja get laid, honey?”
“Tip? Someone’s at the front door and you gave Inez the afternoon off.” Colton yelled.
“Ian, don’t move! I want to hear every detail.” And she was off like, well, Mamie Rae Tipton.
The man stuck out his hand, “Jeremy Tyson.” He didn’t have to introduce himself. Ian had recognized him immediately.
“Ian Justyn” he said as he took the hand a shook it.
Jeremy was one of the biggest box office tickets in the film industry. An Aussie wild boy, with the reputation of a foul mouth, but well respected and admired among his peers. He had been a hard partying playboy until he shocked the industry by marrying Susan Andrews, sister half of America’s most successful pop duo, surprising everyone by not only making the marriage last but gaining the reputation of being a devoted family man.
Susan Andrews, America’s sweetheart, was not far from his side. Her stunning alto was the reason the recordings with her brother had rocketed to the top of the charts making them one of the all time best selling artists world wide. Her brother, a reputed temperamental control freak, was considered the creative genius, but it was Susan who had the talent. She, too, was anxious to introduce herself.
“You were wonderful last night,” She gushed like a teenager.
Ian was having a hard time swallowing it all, but thanked her politely and laughed when she asked what label he recorded for. He explained that he wasn’t a performer that he was in development for a network and left it at that.
“Well, if you change you mind, please, I’d love to talk with you about recording for my label.” She chirped.
“Well, next time I get drunk enough to think I could be a music superstar I’ll give you a call.” Ian had forgotten that when her brother had died unexpectedly three years ago of heart failure, Susan now had controlling interest in the mega music empire her talent had helped forge.
Susan handed him her card, “Why don’t we get together and talk anyway, perhaps we could be of mutual benefit to each other some time.”
Jeremy chided his wife. “Now, Suzie, it’s a day off. You and Ian can take over the world tomorrow. Today is a play date, remember?”
She smiled, so captivating, Ian’s heart jumped. “Okay, darling, I remember.” She slipped her arm around her hubby’s waist. “We make a perfect team. I calm him down and he makes me remember what it’s like to be human and enjoy life.” Jeremy squeezed his wife’s shoulders and kissed her on the side of the forehead. Ian thought how gorgeous their children must be.
“I see you’ve met the Tysons,” Tippy returned, “and I’m sure they won’t mind if I steal you away and introduce you around before we eat.” And in Tippy style before anyone had a chance to say anything, Ian was whooshed around like the new Miss America, introduced to all there.
He met the couple who lived across the street; Michele Alexander, Terry Myers and “Call Me Chip” Ellison who lived in the apartment building to his other side. Also in tow, were Jesse, of course, and Tippy’s oldest son Reece, as were Wella, with the man she has met last night, Blake, and three interchangeable starlets whose names he didn’t remember, but recognized them from either television or film.
Also in tow was the second third of what the industry called "The Musketeers” franchise, Trampus Scott, whom along with Jeremy Tyson and a missing Lucian Jahn had a string of hit action films. The final guest was a young man that Ian recognized but couldn’t place.
“And this is Seven Wyatt”, Tippy introduced. “He works for you.”
Ian shook his hand, “He does?”
“Sort of, I’m on “Sebastian Manor”, Seven explained, “so I kind of work for you…for now.”
“Moving on when you’re contracts up?” Ian asked.
“Everyone knows that HRT wants to get out of daytime, so when the show’s contract with the network is up, we’ll all be looking for new jobs.”
Ian smiled, “Well, I don’t know about that,but I for one don’t think that’s a wise move.”
Seven nodded, looking at the ground, showing off the long black eyelashes that made the fans of the show swoon. “It’s a piece of crap and we all know it’s a piece of crap.”
“You’re right. It’s terrible. At one time it was so bad it was fun, but that got old after a while.” Ian agreed. “Daytime isn’t my baby, but many of you are very talented and I’m sure that no matter what happens, work will not be hard to find.”
“Oh please, how would anyone even know if we had talent? Have you tried to say those words?” Ian knew how bad the scripts were. They had made him cringe every time he forced himself to watch.
“As I see it,” he responded truthfully, “Any one who can say that garbage in those ridiculous plot lines and make it sound like normal conversation has talent. Prime example, how long has your character been tied up in that basement naked?”
Seven laughed, “I get your point. I don’t understand why I’m naked, other than the fact that because of the budget cuts they started with my wardrobe.”
“See…” Ian pointed at him, “Talent…and hard abs don’t hurt.”
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Vignette #23: Poolboy
Ian awoke that Saturday morning with a smile on his face. He showered and shaved and spent the better part of the morning doing household tasks, like dusting and taking out the garbage. He found some garden shears in the cabana by the pool and began the arduous task of pruning the rose vines that had taken over the first floor railings.
It was almost noon when he decided, dammit, it was his pool and he was going to use it, so he stripped off his jeans and shirt and dove in. He could hardly believe that he was now the proud owner of a nice home with its own pool. He laughed and splashed and generally just enjoyed himself.
He was just lounging about the shallow end, when Tippy appeared at the pool edge.
“Good morning, Baby Doll!” She cooed.
“Tippy!” He was half shocked and half annoyed.
“What?” She said as she squatted down beside him, slipped off her sandals and dipped her feet in the water beside him.
“I’m kind of naked here.” He said.
“Oh honey, I have been married since I was 22 years old and I have two sons. I have seen a penis before.” she remarked casually.
He covered himself as best he could with his hands. “But not mine!”
“And whose fault is that?” She said. She stared down at his covered privates and pushed down the sunglasses she was wearing to her nose. “And now I have. I’m impressed.” She said flatly and pushed her sunglasses back up. “Let’s move along shall we?”
“Okay.” Ian wasn’t sure what else to say.
“Colton and I are having a small little lunch thingy tomorrow and we’d like you to come. Is one okay with you? Good, we thought it was time you met a few people, you’ve been a nun way too long, Baby Doll.”
Tippy splashed some water on her thighs and kept going. “Now I’m not promising you’ll get laid, but there will be a nice little smorgasbord of selections for you to choose from. We’re just gonna have hamburgers and baked beans and stuff so it’s informal.”
She looked at him still standing in the pool nonchalantly trying to cover his privates. “Not nearly as informal as you are now, but relaxed.”
“Okay…”
“You know, Baby Doll, I’ve always found that country boys have bigger penises, don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Whatever.” She splashed her toes in the water a little and started rattling on, charming and infuriating Ian at the same time. “Now Colton is from Texas, and he has a really nice one. I’ve often thought how nice it would be to be one of them people that has both sets of equipment…”
“A hermaphrodite?”
“Yeah, one of them. “ She pulled down her glasses and looked at him again, “You are such a catch, smart and hung like a horse.” She pushed her glasses back up and swished her feet in the water staring again off into nowhere. “Stop playing with yourself Baby Doll, it’s kinda rude.”
“I’m not playing with myself.”
“Well then stop pretending to be modest, just relax and enjoy life, Baby Doll…Now don’t get me wrong, I truly enjoy sex, but all that thrusting…how do you boys do it? It’s so exhausting, no wonder you just roll over and go to sleep.”
Ian adored Tippy, but was really hoping she would get to the point and move on. He was getting tired of standing there clutching his ding dong, which is exactly what he felt like.
“No I think being a woman is best. You can just lay back and enjoy all your man’s hard work, so to speak, and if you get bored, you just fake an orgasm, and bring it all to a quick end. Why is it that you boys just will not cum until a woman has had an orgasm? Is it a butch thing?”
Ian started to speak and Tippy put up her hand to stop him, “And don’t tell me you wouldn’t know. You may not be into guys, but I know good and well you’ve been with a woman. You are much too hot a man to not have at least had half a dozen fake letting you take their virginity. If I thought you were stupid and Colt and I played separately, I’d have faked virginity on you by now.”
Tippy leaned back on her hands and kicked the water a little more.
“Did you by any chance have this conversation with judges during the Miss America competition?” Ian asked her.
Tippy threw back her head and laughed. “Oh my God, no! Can you imagine? Course if I had maybe I’d have beat that Miss Rhoade Island by more points. I won so I am not ashamed to admit that it was close. No honey, you didn’t dare talk about sex back then. All the male judges thought you were a virgin and all the female judges knew you were a lying bitch.” She put her hand over her mouth and just laughed.
Ian’s cell phone buzzed. Tippy stopped in mid giggle and reached for it since it was lying on top on Ian’s pants near her. He thought she was handing it him, but she flipped it open and said “Hello.”
“Oh high dear, it’s me, Tippy…his neighbor, can I help you?”
Ian tried to get her attention, “Tippy, I’ll…”
Tippy held up her hand, “Sweetheart, Ian’s busy playing with himself in the pool…”
“I am not playing with myself. Can I have my phone, please?”
She cupped her hand over the cell, “Baby Doll you are all wet and standing in water. Don’t worry I’ll take a message.” And went right back into conversation. “Oh darling, I think that’s a wonderful idea…Yes…uh huh…well I’m sure he doesn’t, but let me ask. He’s a little grumpy today.”
Tippy looked at Ian, “Baby Doll, you don’t have plans for tonight, do you? I didn’t think so...no darling…what was your name again? Wella? No honey, he doesn’t have any plans tonight. I think that will be so good for him…yes I worry about him staying at home so much. He is so good lookin’ and he has a really big penis…I’m lookin’ at it right now. He needs to get out and let people enjoy it more. Don’t you think so?”
Ian just dripped into the pool and hoped he’d drown. He made a mental note that as much as he loved Tippy to keep her separated from sane people. Wella will never ever let him forget this conversation. Once he’d held his breath as long as he could, and decided that maybe he didn’t want to die after all. He pushed out of the water and gasped for air, just in time to see Tippy twisting her hair and chatting away like a school kid on his phone.
“Oh, Wella, honey, you should have seen the look on his face! But I don’t think that Clare person will be bothering him anymore…and he seemed pretty positive he wanted it to be over, so we just saw the opportunity and went with it…”
Oh, God, maybe he did want to die.
“Honey, it’s been so nice talking with you, too. Listen I’ll take care of everything. You all just show up here, okay? Yes, I look forward to meeting you, too. Tah, honey!” She shut his cell phone and looked at Ian. “That assistant of yours is such a sweetheart!”
Ian just stared at her. For the practically the first time since she had shown up Tippy had nothing to say. She looked at Ian and smiled. Ian raised an eyebrow.
It was almost noon when he decided, dammit, it was his pool and he was going to use it, so he stripped off his jeans and shirt and dove in. He could hardly believe that he was now the proud owner of a nice home with its own pool. He laughed and splashed and generally just enjoyed himself.
He was just lounging about the shallow end, when Tippy appeared at the pool edge.
“Good morning, Baby Doll!” She cooed.
“Tippy!” He was half shocked and half annoyed.
“What?” She said as she squatted down beside him, slipped off her sandals and dipped her feet in the water beside him.
“I’m kind of naked here.” He said.
“Oh honey, I have been married since I was 22 years old and I have two sons. I have seen a penis before.” she remarked casually.
He covered himself as best he could with his hands. “But not mine!”
“And whose fault is that?” She said. She stared down at his covered privates and pushed down the sunglasses she was wearing to her nose. “And now I have. I’m impressed.” She said flatly and pushed her sunglasses back up. “Let’s move along shall we?”
“Okay.” Ian wasn’t sure what else to say.
“Colton and I are having a small little lunch thingy tomorrow and we’d like you to come. Is one okay with you? Good, we thought it was time you met a few people, you’ve been a nun way too long, Baby Doll.”
Tippy splashed some water on her thighs and kept going. “Now I’m not promising you’ll get laid, but there will be a nice little smorgasbord of selections for you to choose from. We’re just gonna have hamburgers and baked beans and stuff so it’s informal.”
She looked at him still standing in the pool nonchalantly trying to cover his privates. “Not nearly as informal as you are now, but relaxed.”
“Okay…”
“You know, Baby Doll, I’ve always found that country boys have bigger penises, don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Whatever.” She splashed her toes in the water a little and started rattling on, charming and infuriating Ian at the same time. “Now Colton is from Texas, and he has a really nice one. I’ve often thought how nice it would be to be one of them people that has both sets of equipment…”
“A hermaphrodite?”
“Yeah, one of them. “ She pulled down her glasses and looked at him again, “You are such a catch, smart and hung like a horse.” She pushed her glasses back up and swished her feet in the water staring again off into nowhere. “Stop playing with yourself Baby Doll, it’s kinda rude.”
“I’m not playing with myself.”
“Well then stop pretending to be modest, just relax and enjoy life, Baby Doll…Now don’t get me wrong, I truly enjoy sex, but all that thrusting…how do you boys do it? It’s so exhausting, no wonder you just roll over and go to sleep.”
Ian adored Tippy, but was really hoping she would get to the point and move on. He was getting tired of standing there clutching his ding dong, which is exactly what he felt like.
“No I think being a woman is best. You can just lay back and enjoy all your man’s hard work, so to speak, and if you get bored, you just fake an orgasm, and bring it all to a quick end. Why is it that you boys just will not cum until a woman has had an orgasm? Is it a butch thing?”
Ian started to speak and Tippy put up her hand to stop him, “And don’t tell me you wouldn’t know. You may not be into guys, but I know good and well you’ve been with a woman. You are much too hot a man to not have at least had half a dozen fake letting you take their virginity. If I thought you were stupid and Colt and I played separately, I’d have faked virginity on you by now.”
Tippy leaned back on her hands and kicked the water a little more.
“Did you by any chance have this conversation with judges during the Miss America competition?” Ian asked her.
Tippy threw back her head and laughed. “Oh my God, no! Can you imagine? Course if I had maybe I’d have beat that Miss Rhoade Island by more points. I won so I am not ashamed to admit that it was close. No honey, you didn’t dare talk about sex back then. All the male judges thought you were a virgin and all the female judges knew you were a lying bitch.” She put her hand over her mouth and just laughed.
Ian’s cell phone buzzed. Tippy stopped in mid giggle and reached for it since it was lying on top on Ian’s pants near her. He thought she was handing it him, but she flipped it open and said “Hello.”
“Oh high dear, it’s me, Tippy…his neighbor, can I help you?”
Ian tried to get her attention, “Tippy, I’ll…”
Tippy held up her hand, “Sweetheart, Ian’s busy playing with himself in the pool…”
“I am not playing with myself. Can I have my phone, please?”
She cupped her hand over the cell, “Baby Doll you are all wet and standing in water. Don’t worry I’ll take a message.” And went right back into conversation. “Oh darling, I think that’s a wonderful idea…Yes…uh huh…well I’m sure he doesn’t, but let me ask. He’s a little grumpy today.”
Tippy looked at Ian, “Baby Doll, you don’t have plans for tonight, do you? I didn’t think so...no darling…what was your name again? Wella? No honey, he doesn’t have any plans tonight. I think that will be so good for him…yes I worry about him staying at home so much. He is so good lookin’ and he has a really big penis…I’m lookin’ at it right now. He needs to get out and let people enjoy it more. Don’t you think so?”
Ian just dripped into the pool and hoped he’d drown. He made a mental note that as much as he loved Tippy to keep her separated from sane people. Wella will never ever let him forget this conversation. Once he’d held his breath as long as he could, and decided that maybe he didn’t want to die after all. He pushed out of the water and gasped for air, just in time to see Tippy twisting her hair and chatting away like a school kid on his phone.
“Oh, Wella, honey, you should have seen the look on his face! But I don’t think that Clare person will be bothering him anymore…and he seemed pretty positive he wanted it to be over, so we just saw the opportunity and went with it…”
Oh, God, maybe he did want to die.
“Honey, it’s been so nice talking with you, too. Listen I’ll take care of everything. You all just show up here, okay? Yes, I look forward to meeting you, too. Tah, honey!” She shut his cell phone and looked at Ian. “That assistant of yours is such a sweetheart!”
Ian just stared at her. For the practically the first time since she had shown up Tippy had nothing to say. She looked at Ian and smiled. Ian raised an eyebrow.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Vignette #12: Tippy
As soon as his feet came together and the green blackness cleared, Ian felt like he had stepped through Alice’s looking glass. He found himself standing on the back patio of what he’d always dreamed a TV star’s mansion would be. It had the staccato bricks, expensive furniture, and a glass table by a huge kidney shaped pool, set with candles and dinner for three. And there in front of the pool stood Miss America—literally.
Mamie Rae Tipton had been crowned Miss America when he was tiny. At that time, she had been the youngest winner ever, barely nineteen, but she had stunning looks, and a vibrant charisma exceeded only by a stunning singing voice, becoming one of the most popular choices ever.
Her career had encompassed it all, from Broadway to films and recordings, even making a name for herself as a popular talk and game show guest. There was even a variety show, “Tippy Time”, for a couple of years, when variety shows were fashionable.
Ian had found a picture of her wearing a red one-piece bathing suit lounging on a beach. He had ripped it out of a magazine he read while waiting to get his hair cut at the barbershop. She was a girl from East Tennessee, not far from his own Southwestern Virginia home, so even at nine and culturally ignorant, he knew who she was. Ian saved that picture for years; he wondered momentarily whatever had happened to it.
And there his first wet dream stood before him, hands on hips and dazzling smile beckoning him into her, just like that never quite forgotten picture.
“Aw, ain’t you just the cutest thing!’ She turned to Colton standing beaming behind her. “No wonder you took to him so!” She took a step over and scooped Ian up into a big hug. “Oh, honey it is so good to meet you! Miss Elizabeth was right!”
Ian couldn’t speak. Miss America’s still firm and very full round breasts were pressed against his chest. “I’m happy to meet you, Miss Amer…uh…Tip…uh Mrs. Shores.” He managed to sort of get out.
“Call me Tippy, Baby Doll, everybody does. And what have you got here?” She didn’t wait for an answer, just popped open the top and looked in. “Is this sweet iced tea?”
Her beaming eyes grew impossibly wider, and her smile out phased the moon “How did you know? I die for this. I just can’t make it good.” She grabbed him by the arm and led him to a chair. “I’m a Southern girl, but just can’t quite make it like my mama. Never tastes the same….”
She picked up a glass from the table she had obviously already poured and been sipping from. “I made this.” She tossed the contents on the ground. “I can’t wait to try yours…”
“Actually, it’s not fresh. I made it last night…” Ian tried to explain, not wanting her to expect miracles in a plastic container he’d bought for a buck at the Dollar store.
Too late, she had produced a fresh crystal glass, cubes of ice and poured herself a glass faster than a speeding bullet. “Pishaw, Baby Doll.” She took what could only be described as a lady like swig. Her hand immediately went to her chest and she closed her eyes. “Oh my Gawd…” she drawled.
Tippy picked up the expensive pitcher from her table and practically slammed it into her husband’s chest. “Colton, honey, dump this crap out and then we’ll have us some steak.”
Colton didn’t have time to respond before Tippy slipped her free arm, the other guarding her teas glass like a prisoner guards his food, around Ian’s waist and lead him to a seat. “Now you have to tell me, what part of the South you’re from, Baby Doll, and don’t yank my chain. You’ve worked hard to ditch the accent, and there’s just enough left to color, but only a true Southern boy knows how to make tea like that.”
She eased him very quickly into a chair, and filled two empty glasses at the table from his cheap pitcher and placed the remainder right by what he assumed was her plate. She seemed to never take a breath and kept right on. “I’m a Tennessee girl, you know, just a small town…Mountain City.”
She batted her eyes and took another ladylike swig, giving Ian a chance to give her a big smile before finally getting a chance to say something. “Now, who’s yanking whose chain, Miss Tippy? You tell people you’re from Mountain City, but you’re not. You’re from Shouns, the Bloody Third to be exact.”
Tippy practically did a spit take. “How on Earth did you know that? I’ve told people I'm from Mountain City for so long, just because I got tired of hearing they couldn’t find Shouns on a map. Colton, honey, be a dear and get those plates from the warming cart over there.”
“Well, these days it’s actually true.” Ian sipped from his own glass. “They closed the post office in ’76, and all of Johnson County’s practically Mountain City now.” He smiled at his own knowledge of her small town.
“Don’t tell me,” she chattered. “You can’t be from Johnson County!”
“No, ma’am.” Ian said quietly. “But we’re practically neighbors. I’m from just over the state line in Virginia, a little place called Lost Mountain.”
“That tiny bald spot between Bristol and Wytheville? I thought I came from the poor side of the creek!” Colton put plates down in front of them and pulled up his own chair. “Honey, Ian’s from Lost Mountain.”
“Never heard of it.” He said cutting in to a perfectly grilled steak.
“Of course not.” Ian said. “The only thing that ever happened there was someone found a quarter by the road…once.”
Tippy sighed and pointed her fork at Ian. “Eat your food, Baby Doll. I can’t believe I have a real neighbor for a neighbor. We true Southerners have to stick together in this town you know. Colton claims to be a Southerner, but he’s from Texas. That’s not the South. It’s a foreign country all it’s own.”
Ian grinned. “Just like Florida.”
Tippy giggled.
Colton pointed his knife. “Hey, remember the Alamo.”
“I rest my case.” Tippy grinned. “You’re family must be so proud of you. Not many get out of that area, especially all the way out here to California.” She chewed a little baked potato. “Unless of course it’s to turn tricks down on the boulevard.”
“This is Hollywood. I have an option on that for next week.” Ian said as he finally cut into his own plate.
“So you going to bring all your family out here? You know, eventually?” Colton said trying to get in on the conversation.
Tippy batted Colton’s hand playfully. “He’s a Southerner, not a cockroach, honey.” With out a beat she turned right back to Ian. “So are you? You must have a big old family, lots of brothers and sisters?”
Ian felt odd. “No. No family at all.” He dropped his eyes to his plate, hoping that was a polite signal that it was a topic he didn’t care to be conversational.
“Girlfriend?” Tippy smiled. “Boyfriend?”
Colton cleared his throat. “Tippy, let the poor boy finish his food before you start pimping for him. Eat your steak son, you can fill out the application forms later.”
“I am so sorry, Baby Doll. I did not mean to pry.”
And to Ian’s delight she never really shut up the rest of the dinner. She cooed about this. She sighed about that. She called him “Baby Doll” and batted her eyes. She even let Ian and Colt get a few words in now and again.
The only sour note to the evening was when Ian’s cell phone went off, much to his embarrassment, even to his further dismay when the name read “Clare”. He tossed the phone on a yellow padded chaise, but the Shores made it better by getting him to talk about the situation and himself.
And he learned all about them. Their two sons were off on a brother outing that weekend. The youngest had just graduated college and was trying to “find himself”. The oldest had been discharged from the Iraqi conflict after having been injured twice and started a small private plane chartering business.
Tippy regaled him with how Reese, the oldest, hadn’t been himself, seemingly unable to connect since coming home. Jesse, the younger, was hoping to make some in roads while they were off to “God knows where”. They had been typical brothers growing up, fighting tooth and nail but always at each other’s bruised and bloodied sides.
It was finally well after dark. They made him feel so comfortable and so welcome. The dinner had been perfect and Tippy was serving dessert with brandy.
“This looks wonderful” Ian looked up at his hostess with warm appreciation.
“Now don’t get to excited, Baby Doll. I always give Inez Saturday night off and this kinda cookin’ is not exactly my specialty.” She explained.
“You do just fine, Tip.” Colton tossed in, looking eager to grab his fork and dig in.
“It’s just a Marie Calender cheesecake, but the strawberries are fresh and the whip cream is homemade.” She finally seated herself and placed a fresh linen in her lap. “Well, if you call adding whole milk to a box mix homemade. Dig in boys.”
With that the cell phone rang. As always, forgetting what he had done with it, Ian had to look in several directions for the ring.
Colton rose from his place and walked over to the chaise Ian had tossed it on when it rang earlier. He looked down at the phone and back up to Ian. “It’s Clair again.” The man picked it up and handed it to Ian. “Wanna answer it?”
Ian slapped his hands to his forehead. “Oh my God…”
Tippy waved her hands in the air, “Oh Baby Doll, let’s just nip that problem in the bud right now. Shall we?” She put down her fork and coquettishly took the cell phone from her husband’s outstretched hand. Patting her perfectly placed hair back in place she flipped open the phone.
“Hello, darling, Ian can’t come to the phone right now…What...oh honey, he’s very busy…well if must know, he’s husband are playin’ with this new sex toy we bought last week.”
Ian’s jaw dropped and his head snapped to looked at Colton, who was just shoveling the first huge piece of dessert in his mouth.
“Oh my God!” Colton moaned. “That is so good!”
Ian wanted to jump in the pool and drown.
Tippy smiled brightly and signaled with her un-phoned hand for more of the same. “Have you ever used a feeldoe on Ian? It’s so much better than a dildo, more personal for both of ya…”
“More, I’ve got to have more!” Colton moaned loudly as shoveled more cheesecake in his mouth and leaned closer to the cell phone.
Tippy smiled broadly. “That’s it Ian, honey, give him the real thing now.”
“Oh yeah, baby!” Colton panted as he reached for his brandy. “Harder, stud! Harder!”
Ian couldn’t believe his ears as Tippy turned her attention back to the phone. “That’s right, that would make him very busy…now honey, don’t call back. We’ll be busy all night…that’s right…and sweetheart, I don’t think there’s ever a need for you to call again…Tah darling, you have a good night.”
Tippy closed the cell phone, handed it back to Ian and finally picked up her fork. “There, Baby Doll. I’m pretty sure that problem is solved.”
Mamie Rae Tipton had been crowned Miss America when he was tiny. At that time, she had been the youngest winner ever, barely nineteen, but she had stunning looks, and a vibrant charisma exceeded only by a stunning singing voice, becoming one of the most popular choices ever.
Her career had encompassed it all, from Broadway to films and recordings, even making a name for herself as a popular talk and game show guest. There was even a variety show, “Tippy Time”, for a couple of years, when variety shows were fashionable.
Ian had found a picture of her wearing a red one-piece bathing suit lounging on a beach. He had ripped it out of a magazine he read while waiting to get his hair cut at the barbershop. She was a girl from East Tennessee, not far from his own Southwestern Virginia home, so even at nine and culturally ignorant, he knew who she was. Ian saved that picture for years; he wondered momentarily whatever had happened to it.
And there his first wet dream stood before him, hands on hips and dazzling smile beckoning him into her, just like that never quite forgotten picture.
“Aw, ain’t you just the cutest thing!’ She turned to Colton standing beaming behind her. “No wonder you took to him so!” She took a step over and scooped Ian up into a big hug. “Oh, honey it is so good to meet you! Miss Elizabeth was right!”
Ian couldn’t speak. Miss America’s still firm and very full round breasts were pressed against his chest. “I’m happy to meet you, Miss Amer…uh…Tip…uh Mrs. Shores.” He managed to sort of get out.
“Call me Tippy, Baby Doll, everybody does. And what have you got here?” She didn’t wait for an answer, just popped open the top and looked in. “Is this sweet iced tea?”
Her beaming eyes grew impossibly wider, and her smile out phased the moon “How did you know? I die for this. I just can’t make it good.” She grabbed him by the arm and led him to a chair. “I’m a Southern girl, but just can’t quite make it like my mama. Never tastes the same….”
She picked up a glass from the table she had obviously already poured and been sipping from. “I made this.” She tossed the contents on the ground. “I can’t wait to try yours…”
“Actually, it’s not fresh. I made it last night…” Ian tried to explain, not wanting her to expect miracles in a plastic container he’d bought for a buck at the Dollar store.
Too late, she had produced a fresh crystal glass, cubes of ice and poured herself a glass faster than a speeding bullet. “Pishaw, Baby Doll.” She took what could only be described as a lady like swig. Her hand immediately went to her chest and she closed her eyes. “Oh my Gawd…” she drawled.
Tippy picked up the expensive pitcher from her table and practically slammed it into her husband’s chest. “Colton, honey, dump this crap out and then we’ll have us some steak.”
Colton didn’t have time to respond before Tippy slipped her free arm, the other guarding her teas glass like a prisoner guards his food, around Ian’s waist and lead him to a seat. “Now you have to tell me, what part of the South you’re from, Baby Doll, and don’t yank my chain. You’ve worked hard to ditch the accent, and there’s just enough left to color, but only a true Southern boy knows how to make tea like that.”
She eased him very quickly into a chair, and filled two empty glasses at the table from his cheap pitcher and placed the remainder right by what he assumed was her plate. She seemed to never take a breath and kept right on. “I’m a Tennessee girl, you know, just a small town…Mountain City.”
She batted her eyes and took another ladylike swig, giving Ian a chance to give her a big smile before finally getting a chance to say something. “Now, who’s yanking whose chain, Miss Tippy? You tell people you’re from Mountain City, but you’re not. You’re from Shouns, the Bloody Third to be exact.”
Tippy practically did a spit take. “How on Earth did you know that? I’ve told people I'm from Mountain City for so long, just because I got tired of hearing they couldn’t find Shouns on a map. Colton, honey, be a dear and get those plates from the warming cart over there.”
“Well, these days it’s actually true.” Ian sipped from his own glass. “They closed the post office in ’76, and all of Johnson County’s practically Mountain City now.” He smiled at his own knowledge of her small town.
“Don’t tell me,” she chattered. “You can’t be from Johnson County!”
“No, ma’am.” Ian said quietly. “But we’re practically neighbors. I’m from just over the state line in Virginia, a little place called Lost Mountain.”
“That tiny bald spot between Bristol and Wytheville? I thought I came from the poor side of the creek!” Colton put plates down in front of them and pulled up his own chair. “Honey, Ian’s from Lost Mountain.”
“Never heard of it.” He said cutting in to a perfectly grilled steak.
“Of course not.” Ian said. “The only thing that ever happened there was someone found a quarter by the road…once.”
Tippy sighed and pointed her fork at Ian. “Eat your food, Baby Doll. I can’t believe I have a real neighbor for a neighbor. We true Southerners have to stick together in this town you know. Colton claims to be a Southerner, but he’s from Texas. That’s not the South. It’s a foreign country all it’s own.”
Ian grinned. “Just like Florida.”
Tippy giggled.
Colton pointed his knife. “Hey, remember the Alamo.”
“I rest my case.” Tippy grinned. “You’re family must be so proud of you. Not many get out of that area, especially all the way out here to California.” She chewed a little baked potato. “Unless of course it’s to turn tricks down on the boulevard.”
“This is Hollywood. I have an option on that for next week.” Ian said as he finally cut into his own plate.
“So you going to bring all your family out here? You know, eventually?” Colton said trying to get in on the conversation.
Tippy batted Colton’s hand playfully. “He’s a Southerner, not a cockroach, honey.” With out a beat she turned right back to Ian. “So are you? You must have a big old family, lots of brothers and sisters?”
Ian felt odd. “No. No family at all.” He dropped his eyes to his plate, hoping that was a polite signal that it was a topic he didn’t care to be conversational.
“Girlfriend?” Tippy smiled. “Boyfriend?”
Colton cleared his throat. “Tippy, let the poor boy finish his food before you start pimping for him. Eat your steak son, you can fill out the application forms later.”
“I am so sorry, Baby Doll. I did not mean to pry.”
And to Ian’s delight she never really shut up the rest of the dinner. She cooed about this. She sighed about that. She called him “Baby Doll” and batted her eyes. She even let Ian and Colt get a few words in now and again.
The only sour note to the evening was when Ian’s cell phone went off, much to his embarrassment, even to his further dismay when the name read “Clare”. He tossed the phone on a yellow padded chaise, but the Shores made it better by getting him to talk about the situation and himself.
And he learned all about them. Their two sons were off on a brother outing that weekend. The youngest had just graduated college and was trying to “find himself”. The oldest had been discharged from the Iraqi conflict after having been injured twice and started a small private plane chartering business.
Tippy regaled him with how Reese, the oldest, hadn’t been himself, seemingly unable to connect since coming home. Jesse, the younger, was hoping to make some in roads while they were off to “God knows where”. They had been typical brothers growing up, fighting tooth and nail but always at each other’s bruised and bloodied sides.
It was finally well after dark. They made him feel so comfortable and so welcome. The dinner had been perfect and Tippy was serving dessert with brandy.
“This looks wonderful” Ian looked up at his hostess with warm appreciation.
“Now don’t get to excited, Baby Doll. I always give Inez Saturday night off and this kinda cookin’ is not exactly my specialty.” She explained.
“You do just fine, Tip.” Colton tossed in, looking eager to grab his fork and dig in.
“It’s just a Marie Calender cheesecake, but the strawberries are fresh and the whip cream is homemade.” She finally seated herself and placed a fresh linen in her lap. “Well, if you call adding whole milk to a box mix homemade. Dig in boys.”
With that the cell phone rang. As always, forgetting what he had done with it, Ian had to look in several directions for the ring.
Colton rose from his place and walked over to the chaise Ian had tossed it on when it rang earlier. He looked down at the phone and back up to Ian. “It’s Clair again.” The man picked it up and handed it to Ian. “Wanna answer it?”
Ian slapped his hands to his forehead. “Oh my God…”
Tippy waved her hands in the air, “Oh Baby Doll, let’s just nip that problem in the bud right now. Shall we?” She put down her fork and coquettishly took the cell phone from her husband’s outstretched hand. Patting her perfectly placed hair back in place she flipped open the phone.
“Hello, darling, Ian can’t come to the phone right now…What...oh honey, he’s very busy…well if must know, he’s husband are playin’ with this new sex toy we bought last week.”
Ian’s jaw dropped and his head snapped to looked at Colton, who was just shoveling the first huge piece of dessert in his mouth.
“Oh my God!” Colton moaned. “That is so good!”
Ian wanted to jump in the pool and drown.
Tippy smiled brightly and signaled with her un-phoned hand for more of the same. “Have you ever used a feeldoe on Ian? It’s so much better than a dildo, more personal for both of ya…”
“More, I’ve got to have more!” Colton moaned loudly as shoveled more cheesecake in his mouth and leaned closer to the cell phone.
Tippy smiled broadly. “That’s it Ian, honey, give him the real thing now.”
“Oh yeah, baby!” Colton panted as he reached for his brandy. “Harder, stud! Harder!”
Ian couldn’t believe his ears as Tippy turned her attention back to the phone. “That’s right, that would make him very busy…now honey, don’t call back. We’ll be busy all night…that’s right…and sweetheart, I don’t think there’s ever a need for you to call again…Tah darling, you have a good night.”
Tippy closed the cell phone, handed it back to Ian and finally picked up her fork. “There, Baby Doll. I’m pretty sure that problem is solved.”
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Chapter Six: Present
Ian awoke that Saturday morning with a smile on his face. He showered and shaved and spent the better part of the morning doing household tasks, like dusting and taking out the garbage. He found some garden shears in the cabana by the pool and began the arduous task of pruning the rose vines that had taken over the first floor railings.
It was almost noon when he decided, dammit, it was his pool and he was going to use it, so he stripped off his jeans and shirt and dove in. He could hardly believe that he was now the proud owner of a nice home with its own pool. He laughed and splashed and generally just enjoyed himself.
He was just lounging about the shallow end, when Tippy appeared at the pool edge.
“Good morning, Baby Doll!” She cooed.
“Tippy!” He was half shocked and half annoyed.
“What?” She said as she squatted down beside him, slipped off her sandals and dipped her feet in the water beside him.
“I’m kind of naked here.” He said.
“Oh honey, I have been married since I was 22 years old and I have two sons. I have seen a penis before” she remarked casually.
He covered himself as best he could with his hands. “But not mine!”
“And whose fault is that?” She said. She stared down at his covered privates and pushed down the sunglasses she was wearing on her nose. “And now I have. I’m impressed.” She said flatly and pushed her sunglasses back up. “Let’s move along shall we?”
“Okay.” Ian wasn’t sure what else to say.
“Colton and I are having a small little lunch thingy tomorrow and we’d like you to come. Is one okay with you? Good, we thought it was time you met a few people, you’ve been a nun way too long, Baby Doll.”
Tippy splashed some water on her thighs and kept going. “Now I’m not promising you’ll get laid, but there will be a nice little smorgasbord of selections for you to choose from. We’re just gonna have hamburgers and baked beans and stuff so it’s informal.”
She looked at him still standing in the pool nonchalantly trying to cover his privates. “Not nearly as informal as you are now, but relaxed.”
“Okay…”
“You know, Baby Doll, I’ve always found that country boys have bigger penises, don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Whatever.” She splashed her toes in the water a little and started rattling on, charming and infuriating Ian at the same time. “Now Colton is from Texas, and he has a really nice one. I’ve often thought how nice it would be to be one of them people that has both sets of equipment…”
“A hermaphrodite?”
“Yeah, one of them. “ She pulled down her glasses and looked at him again, “You are such a catch, smart and hung like a horse.” She pushed her glasses back up and swished her feet in the water staring again off into nowhere. “Stop playing with yourself Baby Doll, it’s kinda rude.”
“I’m not playing with myself.”
“Well then stop pretending to be modest, just relax and enjoy life, Baby Doll…Now don’t get me wrong, I truly enjoy sex, but all that thrusting…how do you boys do it? It’s so exhausting, no wonder you just roll over and go to sleep.”
Ian adored Tippy, but was really hoping she would get to the point and move on. He was getting tired of standing there clutching his ding dong, which is exactly what he felt like.
“No I think being a woman is best. You can just lay back and enjoy all your man’s hardf work, so to speak, and if you get bored, you just fake an orgasm, and bring it all to a quick end. Why is it that you boys just will not cum until a woman has had an orgasm? Is it a butch thing?”
Ian started to speak and Tippy put up her hand to stop him, “And don’t tell me you wouldn’t know. You may not be into guys, but I know good and well you’ve been with a woman. You are much too hot a man to not have at least had half a dozen fake letting you take their virginity. If I thought you were stupid and Colt and I played separately, I’d have faked virginity on you by now.”
Tippy leaned back on her hands and kicked the water a little more.
“Did you by any chance have this conversation with judges during the Miss America competition?” Ian asked her.
Tippy threw back her head and laughed. “Oh my God, no! Can you imagine? Course if I had maybe I’d have beat that Miss Rhode Island by more points. I won so I am not ashamed to admit that it was close. No honey, you didn’t dare talk about sex back then. All the male judges thought you were a virgin and all the female judges knew you were a lying bitch.” She put her hand over her mouth and just laughed.
Ian’s cell phone buzzed. Tippy stopped in mid giggle and reached for it since it was lying on top on Ian’s pants near her. He thought she was handing it him, but she flipped it open and said “Hello.”
“Oh high dear, it’s me, Tippy…his neighbor, can I help you?”
Ian tried to get her attention, “Tippy, I’ll…”
Tippy held up her hand, “Sweetheart, Ian’s busy playing with himself in the pool…”
“I am not playing with myself. Can I have my phone, please?”
She cupped her hand over the cell, “Baby Doll you are all wet and standing in water. Don’t worry I’ll take a message.” And went right back into conversation. “Oh darling, I think that’s a wonderful idea…Yes…uh huh…well I’m sure he doesn’t, but let me ask. He’s a little grumpy today.”
Tippy looked at Ian, “Baby Doll, you don’t have plans for tonight, do you? I didn’t think so; no darling…what was your name again? Wella? No honey, he doesn’t have any plans tonight. I think that will be so good for him…yes I worry about him staying at home so much. He is so good lookin’ and he has a really big penis…I’m lookin’ at it right now. He needs to get out and let people enjoy it more. Don’t you think so?”
Ian just dripped into the pool and hoped he’d drown. He made a mental note that as much as he loved Tippy to keep her separated from sane people. Wella will never ever let him forget that conversation. Once he’d held his breath as long as he could, and decided that maybe he didn’t want to die after all he pushed out of the water and gasped for air, just in time to see Tippy twisting her hair and chatting away like a school kid on his phone.
“Oh, Wella, honey, you should have seen the look on his face! But I don’t think that Clare person will be bothering him anymore…and he seemed pretty positive he wanted it to be over, so we just saw the opportunity and went with it…”
Oh, God, maybe he did want to die.
“Honey, it’s been so nice talking with you, too. Listen I’ll take care of everything. You all just show up here, okay? Yes, I look forward to meeting you, too. Tah, honey!” She shut his cell phone and looked at Ian. “That assistant of yours is such a sweetheart!”
Ian just stared at her. For the practically the first time since she had shown up Tippy had nothing to say. She looked at Ian and smiled. Ian raised an eyebrow.
“What?” She said.
“Did you have a message for me?”
“Oh no, I took care of it.”
“Of what?”
“What?”
“Took care of what, Tippy?”
“Baby Doll, don’t worry, I said I’d arrange everything and I will. I’m just trying to decide.”
“Tippy, you know how much I love you…”
“Oh, I love you, too, Baby Doll…kisses sweet thing…”
“Tippy, who was on the phone, more specifically, who was on my phone?”
“Wella wanted to know if you had any plans for tonight, and I told her that you didn’t, and I did ask you, so she and that other young man from your office want to take you out for a night on the town. Oh, I hate that, what was his name?” She snapped her fingers…”Blake, that’s it. His name was Blake!”
“Whose name is Blake?” Colton suddenly appeared. “Are we getting naked?” He started pulling his shirt off over his head.
Ian silently bashed his head against the concrete. “You might as well.”
“Now, Colton honey, don’t get all bothered up. If you do you’re just gonna have to take of yourself. I just have too much to do!”
“What have you got to do, Tippy?”
“Ian and some friends from work are going out tonight, and I’d promised I’d set the itinerary.”
Colton nudged Ian, “Oh, you’ll have fun. She’ll think of the perfect place. She’s good at that.”
Tippy looked at the men, both naked in the pool. “Well…maybe for just a minute. I’m so busy, but a girl’s gotta relax.” Within an instant Tippy, too, was naked and had joined them in the water.
Ian had crossed from mortified, to frustrated, to just accepting it all. He finally just sat back and watched his naked neighbors splashing each other in the pool. They kissed and cuddled a little while until Tippy smacked her husband’s buns under water and said, “Stop it Colt, I’ll never get Ian ready.”
“Sorry, baby, you are just so much woman, I can’t help myself.” He said and nuzzled her neck. She laughed sexily and tossed her head back.
“Now stop it, I really do have things to do.” She stood up and waded over to Ian, proud firm breasts dripping water. “Hmmm, now where does a good looking stud, a successful young up and coming network executive go with friends for a night on the town?”
“Tippy don’t worry about it. We’ll just wing it. This is LA; there are spots to go on every corner.”
She giggled and tapped his sternum, “Don’t be silly, Baby Doll, you can’t just go down the boulevard and pick up hookers. You’re first real night on the town has to be sensational, you need to be seen as well as have a good time.”
Colt slipped up behind, wrapped his beefy arms around her, and nuzzled her neck. “Now, honey, don’t get carried away. Remember, this is for Ian; he doesn’t like a big fuss. Keep it simple. Find something exclusive and not too wild. You know how shy our boy is…”
She smiled and cocked her head. “Hmmm, yes, so sweet my Baby Doll…” Still cradled by her husband, Tippy stroked the wet smooth hair on Ian’s chest, and noticed the locket that he now sported. “What’s this?”
Ian looked down and saw she was holding the little battered heart in her hand. “Oh, it’s a locket my Grandmother gave me when I was little.”
“What’s inside?’ She asked, and stuck her nail in it and ticked it open. “Oh, how darlin’! Is that baby you? You were such a precious child! And your mama?” She held the picture so he could see it.
“I guess so.” Ian had to crane to look at the picture that he hadn’t seen in years. “I don’t remember her. I just assumed that’s the scenario.”
“Don’t you have pictures, Ian?” Colton asked.
“Not to my knowledge. My Uncle wasn’t real big on keeping pictures, having children around or anything having to do with being human.”
“Aw, sweetheart…” Tippy stroked his cheek. “You should have this thing cleaned up a little.”
“It’s just fine, but thanks.”
She didn’t bother to hear him and gently lifted the chain over Ian’s head. “I’ll have this sent over to my jeweler and it’ll be back before you know it.” A thought stuck in her head. “Oh, you know, I need to look at your wardrobe. I promised Wella I’d dress you better.”
“Excuse me…?”
Colton put his arm on Ian’s shoulder, “Just relax and let it go, buddy, you can’t stop the train now.”
Tippy had already lifted herself from the pool and was headed up the balcony steps, “I assume you keep your clothes up here?”
Before Ian could stop her, she had disappeared. “Is it too late to not buy this place?” Ian said to no one in particular.
Colton chuckled, “Aw, buddy, she just adores you and if you just let her have her way you’ll find how colorful and unimaginably wonderful she’ll make your life.”
“From your lips to God’s ear.”
About that time, Tippy appeared over the balcony railing, breasts poking out to the wind, holding several pairs of Ian’s boxers. “Baby Doll, don’t you have any boxer briefs? They are so much sexier than these things. I bet that trailer trash paper weight you were balling bought these, didn’t she?”
“Well, I…” Ian didn’t get much more out when a fourth voice joined in the mix.
“You guys!” The younger version of Colton Ian had seen last night was standing there.
“Jesse honey, what’s the matter?” Tippy asked still holding out of pair of blue boxers by her fingernails.
“This is my space. You guys promised! Its bad enough I have to go into my own back yard and see this, but now here, too! Dammit to hell!”
Both Colt and Tippy looked guilty and pointed at Ian, “He started it!”
“Hey, I was enjoying a private dip in my own pool and suddenly I had company, I am really just an innocent bystander in all this!”
Jesse looked Ian in the eye, “Welcome to my world…”
“Ian have you met our Jesse?” Colton asked.
“Nice to meet you.” Jesse politely said. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.” He shot a deadly look at both his parents.
“Uh, no” Ian stammered. “You are welcome to use the pool any time.”
“Thanks, Mr. Justyn. I promise I won’t be a nuisance. In fact, I was coming over to clean the pool, but I think it can wait until later.”
“Call me, Ian, please.”
Jesse nodded his head in genuine appreciation. “Thanks…Ian”
His mother called from the balcony as she dropped underwear off the side into a trashcan below. “Jesse, honey, where is the best place in town to go have a good time on Saturday night? Ian’s going out with some friends, and being new here and all…”
Tippy yapped a while and Jesse looked at Ian, “She’s not going to bother letting me answer, you know.”
“Believe me, I know.” Ian responded.
Tippy reappeared on the balcony with more clothes that she just tossed over the side to the quickly filling can below. “Baby Doll, put some pants on I’m gonna have to take you shopping.”
“Mom…” Jesse whined, “if you’re gonna make Ian put pants on, could you at least find your bra?”
Tippy looked at her naked breasts. “Oh my!” She giggled. “I guess I should.” Then she looked up and waved. “Why there is the nicest man in the yard next door just a smiling and waving!” She waved enthusiastically back. “Hi, honey! Do you wanna come over and get naked in Ian’s pool with us?”
Jesse squatted down and whispered in Ian’s ear, “Move now, before the ink is dry.” They both laughed.
Ian remembered, “Hey Jesse, can you show me where the buttons are that turn on the pool and patio lights. I’ve never been able to find them.”
Jesse patted Ian’s shoulder, “I guess since my Dad’s the naked dude in your pool, and my Mom’s throwing out your underwear and inviting strangers to get naked in your pool, it’s probably the least I can do. Come on, I’ll show how this place works.” Ian pulled himself with a splash out of the pool. “Now this button turns on the lights here over the door….”
By nightfall, Ian was upstairs, standing in front of the mirror looking at him self. Dressed in new clothes, from undies to sport coat, he had to admit that he was a little impressed. Somehow, Tippy had managed to arrange everything from wardrobe to a haircut, excuse me--stylist, in one afternoon.
He was relieved to discover that it wasn’t his taste that Tippy didn’t approve of; it was as that a man of his stature could no longer afford to be a Wal-Mart shopper. She was as frugal as he was, and together they assembled a respectable new wardrobe, without melting his credit cards.
Ian had heard the doorbell, and knew that he needed to get downstairs before Tippy regurgitated too much information, again. He adjusted the blue jacket one more time and ran his fingers through his hair. Ian couldn’t quite believe that the guy in the mirror was actually him.
He was halfway down the stairs when the little group waiting for him, sighed and whistled. Ian smiled and blushed as he continued down the stairs. Tippy clapped her hands together and did a little dance.
“Oh my, Baby Doll, I may just have to throw my vows to my husband right out the window!” She squealed. “Do it! Do the little turn for me.”
Ian knew this one by heart now. He had done it so many times that day, including while standing in front of sales people in various cuts of underwear. Ian took a little step forward and did a pivot, allowing Tippy and his/her audience to see all sides.
“Show the rest, Baby Doll. Turn around and lift up the jacket for me.” Okay, this one he hated, but he had learned quickly that if he just did it, it got the whole thing over with much faster. Ian turned around and lifted up the tails of the sport coat so she could get a gander at his behind. “Those pants are perfect, just perfect. God, you just have the most perfect butt! Don’t you think so, Wella?”
Wella was speechless. Her hand was at her throat, and Blake, standing beside her, had let his mouth drop to the floor. “He cleans up real nice doesn’t he?” Tippy just beamed.
Tippy waved her hands, “Okay, everybody, have a good time. Now out, out!” She started herding the three of them to the front door. “Baby Doll, I’ll lock up for you and no need to be home before tomorrow at one. Have a good time and get laid but if you miss my party I will track you down and kill you and the skank blowing you.”
“Yes, ma’am” Ian robotically responded as he tried to shut the front door not too obviously as quickly as possible. He loved her dearly and already owed her the world, but he was ready to call it a night when it came to Mamie Rae Tipton. He turned to face Wella and Blake; staring in complete silence on the front porch.
“I don’t know what to say,” Wella finally managed.
“Personally, I am trying to hold it all in until we get in the car. I will definitely start with a very gay squeal.” Blake managed.
“I would say you have a lot of explaining to do, but I think that things have suddenly become self explanatory.”
“Thank you.” Ian was grateful. “Shall we just go?” The duo nodded in agreement.
“I thought we’d take my car, do you know where we are going?” Wella said starting to turn to the driveway.
“Uh…” Ian made her stop, “No and yes. Tippy has arranged everything, remember?” He put out his arms on either side as an invitation for his friends to take. “This will be one of the only times tonight that I will remind you, that we are young up and coming television executives enjoying a Saturday night out; to see as well as be seen. We cannot just show up, we must…arrive.”
With perfect timing, a stretch limo pulled out of the garage. Blake could no longer hold back and the neighborhood resonated with a perfectly gay squeal. A very beautiful woman dressed in uniform emerged from the driver’s side of the limo and opened the door for the trio to enter. As Wella daintily lifted her mid length skirt to step into the car, she looked back at Ian.
“Thank you so much, especially for the young part.”
“You are welcome.”
Once the door was shut and the limo on its way, Blake started blathering like Tippy reborn. “I cannot believe that you live here. The irony just blows my mind.”
“What are you talking about?” Ian asked.
“You really have no idea?”
Both Wella and Ian looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. “My God,” Blake said. “You are soooo straight. This land was once the home of none other than, Darla Hutton! This whole neighborhood was once her palace green!”
Ian was still blank. “Who is Darla Hutton?”
This time Wella piped in. “Now that I am surprised at, Hutton as in the “H” in HRT network, the place you work for.”
“Oh, she was one of the founders. I knew they were three old movie actors, but I didn’t know their names. I’m surprised one was a woman.” Ian added.
Blake was staring out the window. “And she once owned all of this. Just imagine.”
The chauffer piped in. “That’s actually not quite true.”
Blake was gaily offended. “Excuse me?”
The driver quickly apologized, “I apologize for interrupting, sir, but I grew up around here, and that’s not exactly true. It is true that Darla Hutton lived here, and most of the buildings that remain were at one time part of the estate, but she never really owned any of it. That’s all part of the legend of Darla Hutton, it was actually all owned equally by the other two partners, including James Redfield, the “R” in HTR.”
Blake corrected himself, “Oh, that’s right. I had just gotten it all confused. Redfield was her lover. He kind of disappeared about the same time Darla did.”
The chauffer agreed, “That’s what I understand as well.”
“Disappeared?” Ian was a little intrigued. Blake was happy to fill him in, gaying on and on about how the facts and the rumor were so blurred no one probably knew the truth.
What was known was that Redfield’s wife found out about the affair with Darla and that there was a very public and documented confrontation, one of the few things that could be verified. Neither Darla nor Redfield ever made another film or ever appeared in public, together or separately, after that.
The legend was that they ran off together to Mexico or Canada and changed their names, living happily ever after. Mrs. Redfield committed suicide and no one has ever been able to track the now legendary lovers down. The sole survivor of the story, David Turner, ended up with total control of what became the most powerful entertainment conglomerate in the English-speaking world.
Ian was mildly amused and interested. “Wait a minute. I thought the “T’ stood for Tolan. Isn’t Jack Tolan’s family one of the big shareholders in the company?
Wella knew the answer to that one. “Oh no, Tolan’s just an employee like almost everyone else. David Turner is still alive, head of the board and in the office almost every day.”
“You are kidding?” Ian was astounded. “He must be as old as dirt.”
“In his 90’s,” Blake affirmed. “They say that he’s the only one who knows the whole story and he’s never said a word about it but, somewhere there’s a diary that can dish the whole dirt.”
“I’d love to get my hands on that” Ian mused to out loud.
Wella’s eyes quickly turned to stare at him in the passing lights. “I’m surprised that this really interests you.”
“Are you kidding?” Ian smirked. “Can you imagine the ratings we’d get if we could get hold of that story? All the sex, deception and the intrigue; we’d have a whopping demographic—it would crush the competition. “Dallas” would look like that piece of crap we run at 3 in the afternoon.”
“That’s my boss”, Wella sighed, “Always thinking development.”
“We’re almost there. Destination ‘Open Fields’ is just about five minutes away,” the chauffeur announced.
Wella and Blake looked at each other and this time they both let out a gay squeal. “Open Fields? We’re going to Open Fields?”
“Uh…yes…is that something else I should know about?” Ian asked.
Wella squeezed Ian’s forearm. “Oh, child, Open Fields is only the newest and most exclusive club in town. Probably the whole country.”
“Kevin and I used to stand in line every Saturday night just hoping we could get in, the asshole.” Blake dreamed and kvetched.
“You never got in?” Ian asked.
“Please, the people in line out front rarely get in. You have to have your name on a list…” he said.
“And to be on the list you have to know somebody or be with somebody who knows somebody to get on the list.” Wella added.
“Hmmm”, Ian said, “I guess Mamie Rae Tipton knows somebody and got us nobody’s on somebody’s list.”
Wella made a chopping motion in the air, “That woman arranges my entire social life from now on.”
“Wouldn’t it be a hoot, if Kevin were standing in line with that Twinkie he dumped me for and saw me walk right passed him and into the club.” Blake dreamed again.
“Who’s Kevin?” Ian asked Wella.
“His ex, it wasn’t pretty, don’t bring it up.” Wella warned.
“And a Twinkie?”
“You are straight, aren’t you?” He nodded his head. “A fresh white boy filled with cream.”
“Ewww!” Ian retreated.
Within moments, the limo was passing a long cue of people all standing in what looked to be an endless line. The chauffer maneuvered the car to a space that was far enough from the entrance to the club to safely stop without parking on or near anyone hoping to get in.
A young man immediately appeared outside of the door and opened it. He extended a hand to Blake who stepped out, followed by Wella and then Ian. The driver also stepped out and informed them that she would be waiting down the street to take them where ever they chose to go either together or separately until dawn.
The three stepped onto a carpet and walked toward the door. He heard some girl complain, “Who do they think they are”, and someone else take bets as to whether they were getting in. He also heard someone squeal, “Oh my God! Blake! Blakey!”
He watched Blake turn his head, turn a little white and walk to an overdressed man in his thirties holding hands with a smug young man, maybe 23 or 24. Ian started to walk over with him, but Wella grabbed his arm. “Honey, that’s Kevin. Just leave them alone. He’ll be alright.”
Ian stood back and watched. The man was very condescending toward Blake and the other guy just smirked. “Look, Blakey, Todd and I are almost at the head of the line. He’s so gorgeous I’m sure they’ll let us in.”
“I know one of the waiters.” Todd bragged.
“Good for you.” Was all Blake said.
“Do you wanna stand with us? I’m sure they won’t let all three of us in, but you can stand with us. That’s okay, right, Todd?”
“Sure. Bygones are bygones.”
Ian had enough. Before Blake could say anything, Ian walked up behind him, slipped his arms around him and kissed him on the temple. “There you are Baby Doll. Are you ready?”
Blake was a little shocked, but played along enjoying the look he discovered on both the other men’s faces. “Have you met my new friend? This is Ian. Ian this is Kevin and Todd.”
Kevin looked Ian up and down and was not happy at all. Todd, on the other, hand perked right up and jutted his crotch forward a little. “Nice to meet you. Would you like to wait with us? I know a waiter; he promised he’d try to get us in if we got close enough that he could see us on his break.”
Ian gave Blake’s ear and little peck; much to Blake’s well hidden but definite surprise. “Good luck with that, boys” Ian half said. “Nice to meet you, Todd…Calvin.”
“Kevin.” He said flatly.
Ian ignored him. “Com’mon Baby Doll, Daddy’s on the list. No waiting.”
Blake smiled triumphantly, “Sorry, can’t get’cha in. It’s a private club you know, real men get right in.” He reached back and squeezed Ian’s butt, much to his surprise. Blake slipped his hand around Ian’s waist and they walked out of the duo’s sight.
As soon as they were far enough away, they both laughed. Blake’s smile was ear to ear. “Oh man, that was almost worth more to me than going in the club itself!”
“Glad I could oblige…Baby Doll.” Ian put his arm around Blake’s shoulder.
“Thanks Daddy.” And slipped his arm around Ian’s waist.
Ian looked around, “Now where did Wella get off to?”
It didn’t take them long to spot her, standing toe to toe with a bouncer towering behind a velvet rope. She was just staring at him and he was staring off into space.
Ian touched her on the shoulder. “Wella, are you okay?” Ian asked.
“I am fine.” She said.
“Ready to go in?”
“Uh huh” she was unmoved.
Ian looked a little worried behind her. But stepped up to the bouncer and realized that he had no idea how to go about this. “Hi, I’m….”
The large man broke frame and reached for the rope. “I know who you are Mr. Justyn. Is this your party?”
The “party” was shocked. “Uh…yes” Ian tried to look unfazed.
The man unsnapped the rope and motioned them in. “Enjoy you’re evening, Mr. Justyn. Let me know if I can be of any service.”
They stepped through…well, Blake and Ian stepped through, Ian had to grab Wella’s hand and yank her through. Ian couldn’t help but ask, “Excuse me, sir…”
“Ripley, Mr. Justyn, you can call me Ripley.”
“Thank you, Ripley. Uhm…how do you know me?”
The large looming man looked him in the eye. “It’s my job, sir.”
“Oh”, he said, “and Ian, call me Ian.”
“Thank you, sir. Have a good night, sir.” Ian took a step forward and had to go back and grab Wella’s hand. He whispered in her ear. “Wella what the hell is wrong with you.”
She didn’t bother to whisper, but said loud enough for all to hear, “That is the biggest most beautiful white man I have ever seen in my life.”
“Wella!” Ian grabbed her hand and tried to yank her through the entrance.
Ian hadn’t been sure what to expect inside. Tippy had told him that since it was a mixed group that she chose a place for everyone, Tippy long hand for what Ian had heard called a “bi-bar”. She explained to him that the bar was divided in half, the bar on the right side was for straights and the bar on the left side was for the gays. There would be tables and chairs for everyone in their prospective, but the booths down the middle were for those who hadn’t made up their minds or just didn’t want to commit.
He had to admit that he expected something a little dark and sleazy, but this wasn’t like anything he had imagined. While the lighting was dark, the room and the carpet itself were light colored; all whites and gold. Everything was pristine, no smoke or the sound of shoes sticking to the floor as you walked across.
Ian panicked for a moment when a woman came up to him and said, “Oh yes, Mr. Justyn. Right this way, everything has been arranged for you.” He wondered which side Tippy had arranged for him to be on. He wanted to head straight for the straight side, but didn’t want Blake to feel uncomfortable or left out.
As he looked around the room, he couldn’t really determine which side had the straight people and which side had the gay. He actually found it quite relieving and was pleased that not only were they seated in the center booths, but at a place where he could watch the comings and comings. He laughed a little at what a voyeur he was becoming.
“What’s so funny?” Wella asked him.
“Nothing” he shook it off.
Drinks and “munchies” were immediately supplied for them without asking. Either Tippy had made good guesses or these people were just damned good. Wella and Blake began chirping and chatting and Ian enjoyed himself taking in the action of the room.
There was a middle aged couple chatting with a young muscle guy against the wall. Ian assumed they were trying to talk him into a three way. To the other side, he spotted a guy from one of the soaps on his own network making time with a redhead who seemed to be more interested in her own reflection in the mirror behind the soap stud.
The place was packed, but not so crowded that you couldn’t enjoy yourself. It was early, but Blake had informed him that they kept a count to keep the room to a minimum. At the peak hours of the night, even the people on the list couldn’t get in until someone left.
Blake and Wella were busy trying not to make spectacles of them selves pointing out the “names” in the club.
“Look over there!” Blake tried not to squeal. “No, don’t look. Okay now look. It’s Saxon Allen!” He flopped his arms across the tabletop and feigned a swoon. “I luuuuuuuv her!”
“Well, you got her attention.” Wella sipped her spritzer. “She’s looking this way.”
“Oh ma’god.” Blake froze. “I’ll die if she looks at me. I’ll just die!”
The trio turned their heads to the classic and classy blonde bombshell standing by the bar with a hand on her hip. She looked intently, and then smiled coyly.
“She is looking this way.” Blake tried to whisper. “Saxon Allen, is looking this way.”
“Oh butch up, Blake.” Ian said placing his scotch firmly on the wood. “She’s just a human being, not the Goddess of Human Kind.”
“Maybe not in bars you go to…” Blake mumbled.
“Well, get ready to worship, Blake.” Wella sipped her drink again. “She seems to be headed this way.”
And there was no doubt. Saxon Allen had picked up her wine and was headed straight for them. Blake was trying not to hyperventilate. Wella was busy telling Ian that she was the front runner for this year’s Best Actress Oscar while trying to look like she wasn’t saying anything, and Ian just stood up to face her.
The paparazzi darling sauntered right up, placed her drink on the table and calmly said, “Someone never returns my phone calls.”
Ian looked at her. “Why on Earth would I deign to return your phone calls, Kleenex Girl?”
The blonde threw back her head and laughed, then grabbed Ian by the velvet lapels and laid one on him. They lost track of how many times it had happened that night, but once again Blake and Wella were dumbfounded, mouths open, shocked beyond belief. Ian was too busy returning the kiss to notice.
Saxon finally broke the kiss and pushed Ian away. “I mean it Ian, I’m hurt. Why haven’t you returned my calls?”
“It was just two, not a thousand, and I kept meaning to, but I keep losing my phone.”
She gave him a look of disbelief. Blake found his tongue. “True. I have to have it replaced for him at least once a week. They won’t even give us insurance anymore.”
“And I keep meaning to have him pick up one of those raspberry things…”
“Blackberry.” Wella shot in.
“Blackberry,” Ian took the correction. “Aren’t they bigger and harder to misplace?”
Saxon giggled. “You are such a dork!” She took a breath. “Who are your friends?”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Ian introduced them. She looked a little hesitant to let Blake touch her hand, but he managed to not urinate on himself.
“And where’s Clare? She’s not going to jump out from under the table and claw my eyes out, is she?”
“Don’t worry,” He motioned for her to join them. “I had that fungus removed.”
“It’s not going to grow back again, is it?”
“Not this time. Several villages had to be sacrificed, and a few heavy rounds of nuclear anti-toxins were used liberally, but that unsightly stain has finally been permanently removed.” Ian took her hand as she seated herself beside him. He looked around a bit. “And where, pray tell, is your flavor of the month?”
Saxon rolled her eyes, “Under one of the tables for all I know. BUT, the movie is open and doing well, so after tonight, I am no longer obligated to see and be seen with that unsightly stain again.” She looked over at Wella. “I hate romantic comedies. You either get paired with a with a big ego and bad breath or a big hunk who really just wants to wear your panties.”
Blake patted her hand. “You and Julia Roberts have so much in common.”
“Why do you even bother?” Ian asked.
She smiled. “As I’m sure you are quickly learning, the social setting is where all the seeds of the really big deals are planted. Being a team player in public, is what it’s all about.”
“That’s what I’m told.” Ian said.
Suddenly a voice whined toward them. “Saxy, I’m bored!” slurred their way from a big muscle of a man.
Saxon looked at Ian and rolled her eyes. Ian turned to her “Saxy?”
“Better than Kleenex girl.” She kissed him quickly and stood up. “It was so nice to meet y’all.” She put her hands to her lips and giggled. “Okay, a little too much wine. Now are you going to call me? I’m keeping my promise!”
“I’d almost forgotten about that.” Ian smiled.
“No you didn’t and neither did I.” She leaned over and kissed him again. “Call me or I’ll have the Clare monster reanimated!”
“Call the office.” Blake popped in. “I’ll make sure you get through.”
Saxon smiled. “Actually…”
“I see the wheels turning.” Ian teased.
“I’m a natural blonde.” She giggled. “I can’t help it.” Saxon put her arm under her whiney, weaving attractive flavor of the month’s arm. “Everyone, this is Jason Dunning. Jason these are actual human beings.”
“Hello, humans.” The man tried not to slur. “You may remember me as Hot Steel, from my WWF days.”
Saxon rolled her eyes again and tugged on the man. “Com’mon, let’s get you out of here.” They bobbled away, Saxon turning her head at the last minute and mouthed “Love you.”
The trio couldn’t help but hear her chide him. “Dammit Jason, you have semen on your chin. How am I supposed to be an effective beard if you keep getting drunk and blowing strangers in the john…”
Ian watched her go, smiling; at last a good memory. When he returned to reality Wella and Blake were both staring at him. “What?”
“Why didn’t you tell us you…knew Saxon Allen?” Wella asked.
“I didn’t think it was important.”
“Not important?” Blake practically had a hissy. “She is the actress right now.”
“I know.” Ian said. “But what does an old friend…”
“She looked liked more than a friend.” Wella looked him straight in the eye.
“We went to college together.”
“Oh come on…” Blake demanded. “You cannot tell me you don’t find that woman hot and sexy. I’m a flaming queen and I’d do her in a heartbeat.”
Ian laughed. “Sorry, it’s just hard to think of someone that way when you’ve seen her in your boxer shorts throwing up on herself.”
“So you have…” Wella started to say but Ian cut her off.
“Long story…not your business, and no we’ve never…” Ian just let it drop. “We’re old college buddies, nothing more.”
Wella and Blake looked at each other and smiled. “Uh huh.” Blake nudged Wella.
“But maybe now that this Clare monster is out of the picture…” Wella hinted.
“Oh please.” Ian sat straight up. “She’s like a sister.”
“Well,” Blake pushed the umbrella aside and sipped from his drink. “You are Southern.”
“Not that Southern!” Ian looked at them both. “Now I love you both, but let’s make a pact. I will not pimp for you and you sure as hell won’t pimp for me.”
Wella through up her hands. “Fine. Just thought I’d make sure that you understood a possible opportunity. It’s my job.”
“Your job is to help me find and make opportunities for HRT Studios, not to commit incest on a sticky table at a night club.”
“This table’s not sticky.” Blake wiped his hand across it and looked at Wella. “Do you think this table is sticky?”
Wella slapped at Blake’s hand. “That’s not what I was reminding you of…dork…Miss Saxon is rumored to be in the process of starting her own production company. It’s the natural next step for her, and should she actually win that Oscar, every non-old college friend in town will be fighting for a piece of her action…if you get my drift.”
“Oh…” Ian got the point. “Sorry.” He frowned. “But I hate taking advantage of old friendships just to further my own career.”
“Ian, you are so adorkable.” Wella smiled. “That’s your job.”
Ian hadn’t realized how quickly he had knocked back his scotch, his sipping alcohol. He tried to get the attention of a waiter, but finally gave up and decided just to go to the bar and get one. He asked his cohorts if they needed another. They said they were fine but he would get them another any way, just so he didn’t feel like a lush.
He stood up and was hit with the dilemma of which side of the bar to go to. He looked to his left and then to his right, when Blake grabbed his hand and said, “Just go get a drink, you damned chicken.”
Ian bent over and smiled at him, “Be careful Baby Doll or Daddy will have to spank!” Ian hoisted himself and walked to the side that seemed to have an opening at the nearest bartender.
He was able to walk right up to where a bartender immediately said, “Yes, may I help you?”
Ian ordered a Chivas with water, a white wine spritzer and “one of those thick pink things with the umbrella in it”. The bartender laughed and began to put together the concoctions.
Another bartender appeared and leaned against the bar. “Hi, may I help you Mr. Justyn?”
It was happening a little too much and he was beginning to get paranoid. “Do I know you?” he asked.
The man leaned in a little further dropping his voice to a low suggestive tone, “No, but I get off at two.”
Ian leaned in closer imitating the man’s tone and said, “And you’ll be getting off alone, too.”
The other bartender brushed the guy physically aside, and said, “Why don’t you have a seat, sir, and I’ll bring these over to you.”
“Thank you.” Ian turned to head back to his seat noticing that Blake had already started up a conversation with another man about his age and had joined him at his table. As he slid back into the booth he said to Wella, “So we’ve been abandoned.”
“Yes,” she said, “they grow up so fast.”
A rather attractive man leaned over to Wella and said, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I wondered if you would give me the honor of joining me on the dance floor?”
Wella looked at Ian and smiled. He waved his hands at her, mouthing “Go! Go!”
And Ian found himself at the most exclusive club in the country totally exclusive. It didn’t help that the bartender brought a tray moments after Wella “boogied” away and began putting three drinks in front of him. He looked up at the bartender and said, “I do this so well, don’t I?”
The bartender smiled and assured him, “You’ll be just fine. Mr. Justyn.”
“Okay, stop! Stop!” Ian begged, “It’s getting creepy. How the hell does everyone know me? I swear I’ve never seen any of you before in my life!”
The bartender looked at him questionably. “You honestly don’t know?”
“No and it’s driving me crazy.”
“We are all required to read the trade magazines, sir, and are all given a list with pictures of anyone who is on the list for our shifts. We all know that you are Ian Justyn, a new development executive at HRT network, that you come from a small market affiliate where you produced several news programs with ratings spike big enough to gather the attention of the network itself in less than five years, and you are also one of the youngest execs at that network ever.” He swiped a small spot of water from the table with a napkin and put it on his tray. “You are currently the only development executive in the country under thirty.”
“I’m kind of impressed.” Ian looked at the guy.
“You are the talk of the town right now, Mr. Justyn.”
“I was talking about the service technique, not me.”
“Get used to it, Mr. Justyn.” He said as he accepted several bills to cover the drinks including a nice tip.
“Well, they are talking today, tomorrow they may be laughing.”
“That’s the name of the game, Mr. Justyn.”
“It’s all a little disconcerting…and please, call me Ian—and you can spread that around.”
He smiled, “Would it make you feel better if you knew my name?”
Ian was genuinely grateful. “Yes, yes it would.”
“Blue, my name is Blue.”
“It’s nice to meet you Blue.” Ian put out his hand which the waiter took and shook. “I’m Ian Justyn, dork of the hour.”
“Small world,” Blue said. “Well, I’d better get back to my post, hope to chat with you later. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Yeah,” Ian said as he watched his new friend walk away. “Hey, Blue, is there a place I can catch a smoke?”
“Just go past the rest rooms over there, there’s a door at the end of the hallway. We have an overhang set up out back. Don’t worry about your table; it’s yours until you leave.”
“Thanks.” Ian tried to find his friends to tell him he was stepping out for a smoke, but gave up quickly and headed for a Marlboro. He found the rest room, slipped out the last door into the open air and pulled out a smoke.
He immediately recognized the big hulk of a man standing in the shadows, hands in the pockets of his blue slacks, biceps bulging and pecs straining the fabric of an expensive white shirt. Ian pointed at him and said, “Ripley, right?”
The man smiled at being remembered, “Yes, sir.” He pulled a hand out of his trouser pockets and flicked a lighter holding it out for Ian.
Ian cupped his hands around it, puffed until the cherry blazed and said, “Thank you.” He exhaled and looked at the man. “You’re not following me are you?”
“No, sir, we switch around the five stations every hour. Helps us follow the crowd and keep things in check. You are actually following me.”
“Sorry, I’ll try to not make a habit of it.” Ian said.
Ripley smiled a little. “Doesn’t bother me at all, sir.”
“Okay.” Ian wasn’t sure what to make of that. He turned and busied himself surveying the smoking crowd, noticing a woman with long dark hair that looked vaguely familiar. She had on a red halter-top dress cut down to there.
Ian noticed her returning his gaze, and he thought “Hmm, maybe I came to the right place.” He was just about to step a little toward her to gage her response when he heard his name called.
“Ian?”
He turned to see another face he recognized. “Marc?” They quickly ran together and embraced, slapping each other on the back.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Marc asked.
“Well, apparently you aren’t required to read the trades.” Ian joshed.
“Huh?” Marc said
They quickly caught up. Marc Torrey and Ian had been in a band together during and for a few years after college. They played what they laughingly called the “Knoxpatch circuit”, a few minor clubs in the Knoxville and Gatlinburg area. They had gained a little following but Ian left the band when he got the job in Bristol. They had lost contact.
It turns out that most of the band was still together, although they were now called “El Toro”. They had made their way across country and were the house band for the weekend at Open Fields.
They smoked their cigarettes and caught up on old times. “Hey, you got to sing with us next set, Ian.” Marc interjected out of the blue.
Ian shook his head, “I am strictly a shower singer these days.”
“Oh come on dude, you gotta do at least one song with us. Who knows, you might get discovered.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I’ll make you change your mind…hey you still with Clair?” He asked.
“Oh God, no. She’s is Bristol, torturing some other fool I guess. What about you? You still with Angela?”
“Oh yeah, made an honest woman of her four years ago. We got twin boys, 19 months old.”
“Congratulations man.”
About that time, the door swung open and this time Marc’s name was called. “There you are. We need to get ready and start the next set.”
Marc turned to the man in the door, “Hey Hooper, look whose here!” Marc presented Ian and the two hugged and slapped each other on the back. “Hey, dude, wanna chat, but we got get our asses back inside. See you later. You comin, Torrey?”
Marc squished a freshly lit smoke on the ground, “Yeah, yeah be right there.” He turned back to Ian, “You coming back in to hear us?”
“Yeah, I’ll be in as soon as I finish this one” Ian waved his freshly lit Marlboro in the air.
“Cool”, Marc disappeared.
Ian inhaled is smoke deeply and looked to find the woman, but the red dressed vixen was gone.
Ian made his way back into the building and maneuvered himself back to his table. His drink was empty and his friends still gone. He tried to get Blue’s attention, but the crowd around the bar was too thick. El Toro had started, so he sat down and to just enjoy his old band while waiting for a waiter to stop by or he was able to get to the bar.
The stage was on the other side of the dance floor, which was between the booths and the stage. Ian had a great view from the closest edge of the floor. He could see the crowd, including both Wella and Blake enjoying themselves, and El Toro leading with a rocking tune he didn’t recognize. When it ended the crowd clapped, and Marc at the center mike thanked them with the standard cover band thank you.
“For those of you, who don’t know, we call ourselves El Toro and we wanna thank you for coming out tonight, pardon the pun.” He pointed to fingers out to the crowd and several got the bad joke and laughed. “We’ve been together for quite a while, and most of us are originally from the coal mines of Virginia.” He started strumming on his guitar a little.
“We do a lot of original material these days, but we also find that a lot of you enjoy some familiar tunes as well. Now we like to think our days as a cover band are long gone, but we always use our final set of the night to do some old stuff that we still love playing and hope you still enjoy, too.”
Some people in the bar started cheering. Ian cheered along, he was excited to hear them do some stuff that maybe he hadn’t heard in a while. He was looking forward to the comfort.
Marc held his hands up to get everyone quiet. “And we boys in the band have a special treat. It seems our original lead singer is in the house tonight, and if every body gets loud enough, maybe we can persuade him to come up here and do the set with us.”
Ian looked for the exits, but the crowd was stirring, looking around to see who the guy was, probably hopping he was some hot rock dude or TV star…were they in for a let down.
Marc kept going, “Many of you haven’t heard the name yet, but believe me you will, and if you’ve never heard this man sing you are in for a treat, plus ladies he’s pretty easy on the eyes.” Women, and some of the men, cheered. “Put your hands together and welcome to the stage Mister…Ian…Justyn...”
It was too late; a spotlight from somewhere hit Ian in the face. The crowd started clapping and somewhere faintly he heard Blake scream “Go for it, Baby Doll!” The people on the dance floor parted and allowed Ian on the stage. A few members of the band shook his hand and welcomed him with huge smiles on their faces.
Ian was about to wet his pants. He noticed a man standing at the foot of the stage holding a familiar colored liquid . Ian asked him, “Scotch?”
The man nodded his head. He reached for it and took it out of his hand. “Can I have a swallow?”
“Sure”, the man smiled, “any time.”
Ian put the drink to his lips and nodded thank you when recognition hit him. The man’s blonde curly hair was unforgettable. It was the stranger from the balcony across the yard.
Ian knocked the drink back in one gulp and handed the glass back. The man leaned over and whispered into his ear. “Kellen, the name’s Kellen…Ian” and smiled.
Ian stepped back up on the stage and looked across the dance floor. “Blue? Where’s Blue?”
He heard Blue answer and wave off in a distance. “Over here…”
“Bring this man a scotch…and a double for me.”
“You got it!” The stranger on the edge of the dance floor smiled and mouthed thank you.
Ian turned to the crowd, took the mike and said, “Now let’s sing.” They cheered as an old familiar seventies rock tune began. He didn’t know if it was the third scotch kicking in, fear, adrenaline or a combination thereof but he had a blast, and he didn’t think he was half bad.
They did some old Rolling Stones stuff, a few Bee Gees tunes and a couple of things Ian barely remembered but muddled through some how. He even managed to get through “Livin La Vida Loca” which he’d only sung in the shower before.
Between each song he’d thank the crowd and start to step down. The crowd would yell ‘more more’ until it even got old to Ian. He just stopped trying to leave and started turning to Marc and asking what was next. Ian started to recognize the old set and a couple of times even remembered, either that or the band was following his lead.
He had long since lost the jacket and either unbuttoned most of his shirt or popped the buttons as he gyrated his pelvis and wiggled his rear for the crowd. The band played for forty-five minutes and Ian was about to drop. Fortunately that was just about all the repertoire he knew. He thanked the group and introduced each band member like in the old days.
Marc slipped back up and put his arm around Ian’s shoulders. “What’d I tell you? Isn’t he fantastic? Mr. Ian Justyn!”
The crowd practically tore the roof off the place. “Now we got one more song for you.” The crowd was vocal about disappointment. “But it’s something slow and sexy. So guys grab your girl, or girl grab your guys…aw hell whoever grab whatever you’re in the mood for…” he shot a look at Ian. “And just to prove how amazing this man right here is, he’s gonna sing something he’s never seen before.”
“Huh?” Ian almost fainted.
“This is something the band’s been working on and we’ve waited till just the right time, and tonight we think the time is right.” Hooper produced a music stand with some sheet music on it and a stool. He forced Ian down on the stool and placed the stand in front of him.
Hooper to him, “Oh god, Ian, this is gonna blow everyone’s mind. Just look it over, you’ll be fine.”
“Shit” was all Ian could say. Hooper kissed him on the forehead and several ladies and guys cheered. Hooper pointed to the music and flipped through the pages.
“See it’s easy. Just be you, man. It’s perfect.”
Ian nodded is head in drunken fear and looked at the sheet music. It was easy and the band started playing. He said, “Wait! Wait!” The band stopped and the crowd giggled.
“On the bridge, take it up half a step and then follow me.” Marc and Hooper high fived and the band started again. He waited until just the right moment and cautiously lifted the mic to his lips and began to sing.
The melody was simple, but the words powerful and vivid. Ian found himself lost in the words about hopes and dreams and what might just happen if he took a chance and held on. When the refrain came he stood and walked toward the crowd. They had stopped dancing and were mesmerized by Ian’s voice and the conviction crying from his heart that things had been rough, and he didn’t think it was possible to go on “Until Now”.
When the bridge hit and Ian’s voice soared, the crowd soared with him. The final refrain kicked in an entire octave higher, and is voice easily rose both begging and assuring, everyone there forgot there were other people in the room because they all knew that Ian Justyn was singing only to them.
Ian pulled back and quietly hit the final bars almost in a whisper, on perfect pitch to the silently beating hearts of one, “I never dreamed the world would come true…until now.”
There was a good five seconds of silence, only Ian’s breathing could be heard and suddenly the place went absolutely wild. Ian and the band stood humbly, tears streaming down Ian’s face as the crowd loved him more than he had ever been loved before.
In the back of the pandemonium, a figure stood, tears of their own covering their face, saying to no one who could hear, “My God, he got the voice, too.” And then they were gone.
The next few minutes were a blur. Ian stepped out into the crowd to get back to his table. He was kissed, his hand shook and his ass tweaked. Phone numbers from both sexes were shoved in his pockets and he was propositioned so many times his head spin.
And Ian just wanted to go home. The scotch was more than he’d had in years. His head was reeling and the room spinning. He looked for his friends. Wella finally rushed up and bear hugged him.
“Holy Shit, Ian…holy shit!” He pushed away from her.
“Look you and Blake stay and have a great time. I just need to go home.”
She looked concerned, “You okay?”
He nodded, “Fine, just a little too much booze and way too much energy. I’ll send the limo back.” Ian kissed her cheek. “Love to Blake.”
Someone else grabbed him and propositioned him, he wasn’t even sure what sex the person was, but they sure weren’t letting go. He felt a pair of hands pry them apart, and heard a voice he recognized.
“You okay, Ian?” It was Blue.
“Need some air, buddy. Just get me out of here.” Blue put his arm around him and helped Ian outside. Ian wasn’t sure how long it took, but he heard Blue push a few people off and tell someone to call his driver. He stood with him for a moment when the fresh air hit him. Ian felt his knees buckle a little, but he managed to focus.
“You gonna be okay there?” Blue asked.
“Yes, thank you. I’ll be fine now, just a little over whelmed.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“Your driver is on the way. Just stay right here, okay.” Blue turned to go in, but turned back. “I usually don’t do this, and my girl friend would kill me if she found out, but I just can’t help it. You were just too hot!” He scribbled his number down on a piece of paper and stuck it down the front of Ian’s pants. “I don’t care what you are into. Call me. Any time.” Blue then disappeared inside the club.
Ian bent over and put his hands on his thighs and took a deep breath of night air. Another familiar voice came from behind him. “Sir, are you okay?”
Ian waved off the voice. He didn’t want more hands on him. Ian just wanted to go home. But the voice insisted.
“Mr. Justyn, sir, your jacket.” The jacket was thrust gently under in his sight line. Ian eased up and took it.
“Oh, thank you…” and when he recognized the face, “Ripley”
“You are very welcome sir….anything else sir?”
Rubbing his sore abdomen, “Not unless you can recommend a good gym, I am so out of shape.”
Ripley smiled. “You looked just fine…Ian.” Ripley opened his wallet and took out a card as Ian thought “Oh God”.
He handed it to Ian. “A friend of mine works at this gym. Tell ‘em I told you to call, they’ll set you up.”
Ian accepted the card. “Thank you, I just might do that.” The chauffer arrived and opened the door for Ian. He slopped himself in as soberly as he could, doing quite an admirable job. As the limo pulled off he pushed the down button on the window and drifted off to sleep.
“We’re here.” He awoke to the chauffer standing in front of the open car door. He had slept the whole drive home. He thanked her politely, tipped her generously and asked her if she would mind going back and waiting for the others should they need a lift. She informed him it was her pleasure and was gone.
Ian found himself still a little tipsy and standing in his front yard. He wandered slowly to the front door, new jacket dragging like Linus’s blanket behind him. He didn’t bother to turn the lights on. He just threw the jacket on the couch, dropped out of his shoes and headed to the bedroom stairs.
He sprawled across the bed for a few minutes, trying to focus on a spot that wasn’t spinning. He wasn’t sure if he should laugh or cry, after all he had turned a room full of people on but he had still came home alone.
Ian reached in his pockets and pulled out bits of wadded up papers and cards. He thought about leafing through them and picking one at random. He decided just to undress and forget it.
When he stood he felt something strange in his sexy new boxer briefs. He reached down and found a crumpled bar tab. It was blank on one side and on the other he could make out “Call me for anything, Blue” with a cell phone number. He chuckled to himself, wadded it up and landed it in the trash with no net.
Ian reached for the remote and opened both the drapes and the glass doors and strolled out to the balcony. He stumbled carefully down the steps to the underpinning by the downstairs back entrance. He pressed an almost hidden button and the pool under lighting snapped on.
“There,” he said proudly to the stars, “I learned something.”
He sighed and walked back up the steps and just sat on the floor, feet on the last step. He reached for a smoke, lit it up and inhaled. When he exhaled he leaned back on one arm and stared straight up and began to count the stars.
He didn’t see the figure watch him for a moment. Nor did he see that figure slip deep into the shadows and then disappear.
It was almost noon when he decided, dammit, it was his pool and he was going to use it, so he stripped off his jeans and shirt and dove in. He could hardly believe that he was now the proud owner of a nice home with its own pool. He laughed and splashed and generally just enjoyed himself.
He was just lounging about the shallow end, when Tippy appeared at the pool edge.
“Good morning, Baby Doll!” She cooed.
“Tippy!” He was half shocked and half annoyed.
“What?” She said as she squatted down beside him, slipped off her sandals and dipped her feet in the water beside him.
“I’m kind of naked here.” He said.
“Oh honey, I have been married since I was 22 years old and I have two sons. I have seen a penis before” she remarked casually.
He covered himself as best he could with his hands. “But not mine!”
“And whose fault is that?” She said. She stared down at his covered privates and pushed down the sunglasses she was wearing on her nose. “And now I have. I’m impressed.” She said flatly and pushed her sunglasses back up. “Let’s move along shall we?”
“Okay.” Ian wasn’t sure what else to say.
“Colton and I are having a small little lunch thingy tomorrow and we’d like you to come. Is one okay with you? Good, we thought it was time you met a few people, you’ve been a nun way too long, Baby Doll.”
Tippy splashed some water on her thighs and kept going. “Now I’m not promising you’ll get laid, but there will be a nice little smorgasbord of selections for you to choose from. We’re just gonna have hamburgers and baked beans and stuff so it’s informal.”
She looked at him still standing in the pool nonchalantly trying to cover his privates. “Not nearly as informal as you are now, but relaxed.”
“Okay…”
“You know, Baby Doll, I’ve always found that country boys have bigger penises, don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Whatever.” She splashed her toes in the water a little and started rattling on, charming and infuriating Ian at the same time. “Now Colton is from Texas, and he has a really nice one. I’ve often thought how nice it would be to be one of them people that has both sets of equipment…”
“A hermaphrodite?”
“Yeah, one of them. “ She pulled down her glasses and looked at him again, “You are such a catch, smart and hung like a horse.” She pushed her glasses back up and swished her feet in the water staring again off into nowhere. “Stop playing with yourself Baby Doll, it’s kinda rude.”
“I’m not playing with myself.”
“Well then stop pretending to be modest, just relax and enjoy life, Baby Doll…Now don’t get me wrong, I truly enjoy sex, but all that thrusting…how do you boys do it? It’s so exhausting, no wonder you just roll over and go to sleep.”
Ian adored Tippy, but was really hoping she would get to the point and move on. He was getting tired of standing there clutching his ding dong, which is exactly what he felt like.
“No I think being a woman is best. You can just lay back and enjoy all your man’s hardf work, so to speak, and if you get bored, you just fake an orgasm, and bring it all to a quick end. Why is it that you boys just will not cum until a woman has had an orgasm? Is it a butch thing?”
Ian started to speak and Tippy put up her hand to stop him, “And don’t tell me you wouldn’t know. You may not be into guys, but I know good and well you’ve been with a woman. You are much too hot a man to not have at least had half a dozen fake letting you take their virginity. If I thought you were stupid and Colt and I played separately, I’d have faked virginity on you by now.”
Tippy leaned back on her hands and kicked the water a little more.
“Did you by any chance have this conversation with judges during the Miss America competition?” Ian asked her.
Tippy threw back her head and laughed. “Oh my God, no! Can you imagine? Course if I had maybe I’d have beat that Miss Rhode Island by more points. I won so I am not ashamed to admit that it was close. No honey, you didn’t dare talk about sex back then. All the male judges thought you were a virgin and all the female judges knew you were a lying bitch.” She put her hand over her mouth and just laughed.
Ian’s cell phone buzzed. Tippy stopped in mid giggle and reached for it since it was lying on top on Ian’s pants near her. He thought she was handing it him, but she flipped it open and said “Hello.”
“Oh high dear, it’s me, Tippy…his neighbor, can I help you?”
Ian tried to get her attention, “Tippy, I’ll…”
Tippy held up her hand, “Sweetheart, Ian’s busy playing with himself in the pool…”
“I am not playing with myself. Can I have my phone, please?”
She cupped her hand over the cell, “Baby Doll you are all wet and standing in water. Don’t worry I’ll take a message.” And went right back into conversation. “Oh darling, I think that’s a wonderful idea…Yes…uh huh…well I’m sure he doesn’t, but let me ask. He’s a little grumpy today.”
Tippy looked at Ian, “Baby Doll, you don’t have plans for tonight, do you? I didn’t think so; no darling…what was your name again? Wella? No honey, he doesn’t have any plans tonight. I think that will be so good for him…yes I worry about him staying at home so much. He is so good lookin’ and he has a really big penis…I’m lookin’ at it right now. He needs to get out and let people enjoy it more. Don’t you think so?”
Ian just dripped into the pool and hoped he’d drown. He made a mental note that as much as he loved Tippy to keep her separated from sane people. Wella will never ever let him forget that conversation. Once he’d held his breath as long as he could, and decided that maybe he didn’t want to die after all he pushed out of the water and gasped for air, just in time to see Tippy twisting her hair and chatting away like a school kid on his phone.
“Oh, Wella, honey, you should have seen the look on his face! But I don’t think that Clare person will be bothering him anymore…and he seemed pretty positive he wanted it to be over, so we just saw the opportunity and went with it…”
Oh, God, maybe he did want to die.
“Honey, it’s been so nice talking with you, too. Listen I’ll take care of everything. You all just show up here, okay? Yes, I look forward to meeting you, too. Tah, honey!” She shut his cell phone and looked at Ian. “That assistant of yours is such a sweetheart!”
Ian just stared at her. For the practically the first time since she had shown up Tippy had nothing to say. She looked at Ian and smiled. Ian raised an eyebrow.
“What?” She said.
“Did you have a message for me?”
“Oh no, I took care of it.”
“Of what?”
“What?”
“Took care of what, Tippy?”
“Baby Doll, don’t worry, I said I’d arrange everything and I will. I’m just trying to decide.”
“Tippy, you know how much I love you…”
“Oh, I love you, too, Baby Doll…kisses sweet thing…”
“Tippy, who was on the phone, more specifically, who was on my phone?”
“Wella wanted to know if you had any plans for tonight, and I told her that you didn’t, and I did ask you, so she and that other young man from your office want to take you out for a night on the town. Oh, I hate that, what was his name?” She snapped her fingers…”Blake, that’s it. His name was Blake!”
“Whose name is Blake?” Colton suddenly appeared. “Are we getting naked?” He started pulling his shirt off over his head.
Ian silently bashed his head against the concrete. “You might as well.”
“Now, Colton honey, don’t get all bothered up. If you do you’re just gonna have to take of yourself. I just have too much to do!”
“What have you got to do, Tippy?”
“Ian and some friends from work are going out tonight, and I’d promised I’d set the itinerary.”
Colton nudged Ian, “Oh, you’ll have fun. She’ll think of the perfect place. She’s good at that.”
Tippy looked at the men, both naked in the pool. “Well…maybe for just a minute. I’m so busy, but a girl’s gotta relax.” Within an instant Tippy, too, was naked and had joined them in the water.
Ian had crossed from mortified, to frustrated, to just accepting it all. He finally just sat back and watched his naked neighbors splashing each other in the pool. They kissed and cuddled a little while until Tippy smacked her husband’s buns under water and said, “Stop it Colt, I’ll never get Ian ready.”
“Sorry, baby, you are just so much woman, I can’t help myself.” He said and nuzzled her neck. She laughed sexily and tossed her head back.
“Now stop it, I really do have things to do.” She stood up and waded over to Ian, proud firm breasts dripping water. “Hmmm, now where does a good looking stud, a successful young up and coming network executive go with friends for a night on the town?”
“Tippy don’t worry about it. We’ll just wing it. This is LA; there are spots to go on every corner.”
She giggled and tapped his sternum, “Don’t be silly, Baby Doll, you can’t just go down the boulevard and pick up hookers. You’re first real night on the town has to be sensational, you need to be seen as well as have a good time.”
Colt slipped up behind, wrapped his beefy arms around her, and nuzzled her neck. “Now, honey, don’t get carried away. Remember, this is for Ian; he doesn’t like a big fuss. Keep it simple. Find something exclusive and not too wild. You know how shy our boy is…”
She smiled and cocked her head. “Hmmm, yes, so sweet my Baby Doll…” Still cradled by her husband, Tippy stroked the wet smooth hair on Ian’s chest, and noticed the locket that he now sported. “What’s this?”
Ian looked down and saw she was holding the little battered heart in her hand. “Oh, it’s a locket my Grandmother gave me when I was little.”
“What’s inside?’ She asked, and stuck her nail in it and ticked it open. “Oh, how darlin’! Is that baby you? You were such a precious child! And your mama?” She held the picture so he could see it.
“I guess so.” Ian had to crane to look at the picture that he hadn’t seen in years. “I don’t remember her. I just assumed that’s the scenario.”
“Don’t you have pictures, Ian?” Colton asked.
“Not to my knowledge. My Uncle wasn’t real big on keeping pictures, having children around or anything having to do with being human.”
“Aw, sweetheart…” Tippy stroked his cheek. “You should have this thing cleaned up a little.”
“It’s just fine, but thanks.”
She didn’t bother to hear him and gently lifted the chain over Ian’s head. “I’ll have this sent over to my jeweler and it’ll be back before you know it.” A thought stuck in her head. “Oh, you know, I need to look at your wardrobe. I promised Wella I’d dress you better.”
“Excuse me…?”
Colton put his arm on Ian’s shoulder, “Just relax and let it go, buddy, you can’t stop the train now.”
Tippy had already lifted herself from the pool and was headed up the balcony steps, “I assume you keep your clothes up here?”
Before Ian could stop her, she had disappeared. “Is it too late to not buy this place?” Ian said to no one in particular.
Colton chuckled, “Aw, buddy, she just adores you and if you just let her have her way you’ll find how colorful and unimaginably wonderful she’ll make your life.”
“From your lips to God’s ear.”
About that time, Tippy appeared over the balcony railing, breasts poking out to the wind, holding several pairs of Ian’s boxers. “Baby Doll, don’t you have any boxer briefs? They are so much sexier than these things. I bet that trailer trash paper weight you were balling bought these, didn’t she?”
“Well, I…” Ian didn’t get much more out when a fourth voice joined in the mix.
“You guys!” The younger version of Colton Ian had seen last night was standing there.
“Jesse honey, what’s the matter?” Tippy asked still holding out of pair of blue boxers by her fingernails.
“This is my space. You guys promised! Its bad enough I have to go into my own back yard and see this, but now here, too! Dammit to hell!”
Both Colt and Tippy looked guilty and pointed at Ian, “He started it!”
“Hey, I was enjoying a private dip in my own pool and suddenly I had company, I am really just an innocent bystander in all this!”
Jesse looked Ian in the eye, “Welcome to my world…”
“Ian have you met our Jesse?” Colton asked.
“Nice to meet you.” Jesse politely said. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.” He shot a deadly look at both his parents.
“Uh, no” Ian stammered. “You are welcome to use the pool any time.”
“Thanks, Mr. Justyn. I promise I won’t be a nuisance. In fact, I was coming over to clean the pool, but I think it can wait until later.”
“Call me, Ian, please.”
Jesse nodded his head in genuine appreciation. “Thanks…Ian”
His mother called from the balcony as she dropped underwear off the side into a trashcan below. “Jesse, honey, where is the best place in town to go have a good time on Saturday night? Ian’s going out with some friends, and being new here and all…”
Tippy yapped a while and Jesse looked at Ian, “She’s not going to bother letting me answer, you know.”
“Believe me, I know.” Ian responded.
Tippy reappeared on the balcony with more clothes that she just tossed over the side to the quickly filling can below. “Baby Doll, put some pants on I’m gonna have to take you shopping.”
“Mom…” Jesse whined, “if you’re gonna make Ian put pants on, could you at least find your bra?”
Tippy looked at her naked breasts. “Oh my!” She giggled. “I guess I should.” Then she looked up and waved. “Why there is the nicest man in the yard next door just a smiling and waving!” She waved enthusiastically back. “Hi, honey! Do you wanna come over and get naked in Ian’s pool with us?”
Jesse squatted down and whispered in Ian’s ear, “Move now, before the ink is dry.” They both laughed.
Ian remembered, “Hey Jesse, can you show me where the buttons are that turn on the pool and patio lights. I’ve never been able to find them.”
Jesse patted Ian’s shoulder, “I guess since my Dad’s the naked dude in your pool, and my Mom’s throwing out your underwear and inviting strangers to get naked in your pool, it’s probably the least I can do. Come on, I’ll show how this place works.” Ian pulled himself with a splash out of the pool. “Now this button turns on the lights here over the door….”
By nightfall, Ian was upstairs, standing in front of the mirror looking at him self. Dressed in new clothes, from undies to sport coat, he had to admit that he was a little impressed. Somehow, Tippy had managed to arrange everything from wardrobe to a haircut, excuse me--stylist, in one afternoon.
He was relieved to discover that it wasn’t his taste that Tippy didn’t approve of; it was as that a man of his stature could no longer afford to be a Wal-Mart shopper. She was as frugal as he was, and together they assembled a respectable new wardrobe, without melting his credit cards.
Ian had heard the doorbell, and knew that he needed to get downstairs before Tippy regurgitated too much information, again. He adjusted the blue jacket one more time and ran his fingers through his hair. Ian couldn’t quite believe that the guy in the mirror was actually him.
He was halfway down the stairs when the little group waiting for him, sighed and whistled. Ian smiled and blushed as he continued down the stairs. Tippy clapped her hands together and did a little dance.
“Oh my, Baby Doll, I may just have to throw my vows to my husband right out the window!” She squealed. “Do it! Do the little turn for me.”
Ian knew this one by heart now. He had done it so many times that day, including while standing in front of sales people in various cuts of underwear. Ian took a little step forward and did a pivot, allowing Tippy and his/her audience to see all sides.
“Show the rest, Baby Doll. Turn around and lift up the jacket for me.” Okay, this one he hated, but he had learned quickly that if he just did it, it got the whole thing over with much faster. Ian turned around and lifted up the tails of the sport coat so she could get a gander at his behind. “Those pants are perfect, just perfect. God, you just have the most perfect butt! Don’t you think so, Wella?”
Wella was speechless. Her hand was at her throat, and Blake, standing beside her, had let his mouth drop to the floor. “He cleans up real nice doesn’t he?” Tippy just beamed.
Tippy waved her hands, “Okay, everybody, have a good time. Now out, out!” She started herding the three of them to the front door. “Baby Doll, I’ll lock up for you and no need to be home before tomorrow at one. Have a good time and get laid but if you miss my party I will track you down and kill you and the skank blowing you.”
“Yes, ma’am” Ian robotically responded as he tried to shut the front door not too obviously as quickly as possible. He loved her dearly and already owed her the world, but he was ready to call it a night when it came to Mamie Rae Tipton. He turned to face Wella and Blake; staring in complete silence on the front porch.
“I don’t know what to say,” Wella finally managed.
“Personally, I am trying to hold it all in until we get in the car. I will definitely start with a very gay squeal.” Blake managed.
“I would say you have a lot of explaining to do, but I think that things have suddenly become self explanatory.”
“Thank you.” Ian was grateful. “Shall we just go?” The duo nodded in agreement.
“I thought we’d take my car, do you know where we are going?” Wella said starting to turn to the driveway.
“Uh…” Ian made her stop, “No and yes. Tippy has arranged everything, remember?” He put out his arms on either side as an invitation for his friends to take. “This will be one of the only times tonight that I will remind you, that we are young up and coming television executives enjoying a Saturday night out; to see as well as be seen. We cannot just show up, we must…arrive.”
With perfect timing, a stretch limo pulled out of the garage. Blake could no longer hold back and the neighborhood resonated with a perfectly gay squeal. A very beautiful woman dressed in uniform emerged from the driver’s side of the limo and opened the door for the trio to enter. As Wella daintily lifted her mid length skirt to step into the car, she looked back at Ian.
“Thank you so much, especially for the young part.”
“You are welcome.”
Once the door was shut and the limo on its way, Blake started blathering like Tippy reborn. “I cannot believe that you live here. The irony just blows my mind.”
“What are you talking about?” Ian asked.
“You really have no idea?”
Both Wella and Ian looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. “My God,” Blake said. “You are soooo straight. This land was once the home of none other than, Darla Hutton! This whole neighborhood was once her palace green!”
Ian was still blank. “Who is Darla Hutton?”
This time Wella piped in. “Now that I am surprised at, Hutton as in the “H” in HRT network, the place you work for.”
“Oh, she was one of the founders. I knew they were three old movie actors, but I didn’t know their names. I’m surprised one was a woman.” Ian added.
Blake was staring out the window. “And she once owned all of this. Just imagine.”
The chauffer piped in. “That’s actually not quite true.”
Blake was gaily offended. “Excuse me?”
The driver quickly apologized, “I apologize for interrupting, sir, but I grew up around here, and that’s not exactly true. It is true that Darla Hutton lived here, and most of the buildings that remain were at one time part of the estate, but she never really owned any of it. That’s all part of the legend of Darla Hutton, it was actually all owned equally by the other two partners, including James Redfield, the “R” in HTR.”
Blake corrected himself, “Oh, that’s right. I had just gotten it all confused. Redfield was her lover. He kind of disappeared about the same time Darla did.”
The chauffer agreed, “That’s what I understand as well.”
“Disappeared?” Ian was a little intrigued. Blake was happy to fill him in, gaying on and on about how the facts and the rumor were so blurred no one probably knew the truth.
What was known was that Redfield’s wife found out about the affair with Darla and that there was a very public and documented confrontation, one of the few things that could be verified. Neither Darla nor Redfield ever made another film or ever appeared in public, together or separately, after that.
The legend was that they ran off together to Mexico or Canada and changed their names, living happily ever after. Mrs. Redfield committed suicide and no one has ever been able to track the now legendary lovers down. The sole survivor of the story, David Turner, ended up with total control of what became the most powerful entertainment conglomerate in the English-speaking world.
Ian was mildly amused and interested. “Wait a minute. I thought the “T’ stood for Tolan. Isn’t Jack Tolan’s family one of the big shareholders in the company?
Wella knew the answer to that one. “Oh no, Tolan’s just an employee like almost everyone else. David Turner is still alive, head of the board and in the office almost every day.”
“You are kidding?” Ian was astounded. “He must be as old as dirt.”
“In his 90’s,” Blake affirmed. “They say that he’s the only one who knows the whole story and he’s never said a word about it but, somewhere there’s a diary that can dish the whole dirt.”
“I’d love to get my hands on that” Ian mused to out loud.
Wella’s eyes quickly turned to stare at him in the passing lights. “I’m surprised that this really interests you.”
“Are you kidding?” Ian smirked. “Can you imagine the ratings we’d get if we could get hold of that story? All the sex, deception and the intrigue; we’d have a whopping demographic—it would crush the competition. “Dallas” would look like that piece of crap we run at 3 in the afternoon.”
“That’s my boss”, Wella sighed, “Always thinking development.”
“We’re almost there. Destination ‘Open Fields’ is just about five minutes away,” the chauffeur announced.
Wella and Blake looked at each other and this time they both let out a gay squeal. “Open Fields? We’re going to Open Fields?”
“Uh…yes…is that something else I should know about?” Ian asked.
Wella squeezed Ian’s forearm. “Oh, child, Open Fields is only the newest and most exclusive club in town. Probably the whole country.”
“Kevin and I used to stand in line every Saturday night just hoping we could get in, the asshole.” Blake dreamed and kvetched.
“You never got in?” Ian asked.
“Please, the people in line out front rarely get in. You have to have your name on a list…” he said.
“And to be on the list you have to know somebody or be with somebody who knows somebody to get on the list.” Wella added.
“Hmmm”, Ian said, “I guess Mamie Rae Tipton knows somebody and got us nobody’s on somebody’s list.”
Wella made a chopping motion in the air, “That woman arranges my entire social life from now on.”
“Wouldn’t it be a hoot, if Kevin were standing in line with that Twinkie he dumped me for and saw me walk right passed him and into the club.” Blake dreamed again.
“Who’s Kevin?” Ian asked Wella.
“His ex, it wasn’t pretty, don’t bring it up.” Wella warned.
“And a Twinkie?”
“You are straight, aren’t you?” He nodded his head. “A fresh white boy filled with cream.”
“Ewww!” Ian retreated.
Within moments, the limo was passing a long cue of people all standing in what looked to be an endless line. The chauffer maneuvered the car to a space that was far enough from the entrance to the club to safely stop without parking on or near anyone hoping to get in.
A young man immediately appeared outside of the door and opened it. He extended a hand to Blake who stepped out, followed by Wella and then Ian. The driver also stepped out and informed them that she would be waiting down the street to take them where ever they chose to go either together or separately until dawn.
The three stepped onto a carpet and walked toward the door. He heard some girl complain, “Who do they think they are”, and someone else take bets as to whether they were getting in. He also heard someone squeal, “Oh my God! Blake! Blakey!”
He watched Blake turn his head, turn a little white and walk to an overdressed man in his thirties holding hands with a smug young man, maybe 23 or 24. Ian started to walk over with him, but Wella grabbed his arm. “Honey, that’s Kevin. Just leave them alone. He’ll be alright.”
Ian stood back and watched. The man was very condescending toward Blake and the other guy just smirked. “Look, Blakey, Todd and I are almost at the head of the line. He’s so gorgeous I’m sure they’ll let us in.”
“I know one of the waiters.” Todd bragged.
“Good for you.” Was all Blake said.
“Do you wanna stand with us? I’m sure they won’t let all three of us in, but you can stand with us. That’s okay, right, Todd?”
“Sure. Bygones are bygones.”
Ian had enough. Before Blake could say anything, Ian walked up behind him, slipped his arms around him and kissed him on the temple. “There you are Baby Doll. Are you ready?”
Blake was a little shocked, but played along enjoying the look he discovered on both the other men’s faces. “Have you met my new friend? This is Ian. Ian this is Kevin and Todd.”
Kevin looked Ian up and down and was not happy at all. Todd, on the other, hand perked right up and jutted his crotch forward a little. “Nice to meet you. Would you like to wait with us? I know a waiter; he promised he’d try to get us in if we got close enough that he could see us on his break.”
Ian gave Blake’s ear and little peck; much to Blake’s well hidden but definite surprise. “Good luck with that, boys” Ian half said. “Nice to meet you, Todd…Calvin.”
“Kevin.” He said flatly.
Ian ignored him. “Com’mon Baby Doll, Daddy’s on the list. No waiting.”
Blake smiled triumphantly, “Sorry, can’t get’cha in. It’s a private club you know, real men get right in.” He reached back and squeezed Ian’s butt, much to his surprise. Blake slipped his hand around Ian’s waist and they walked out of the duo’s sight.
As soon as they were far enough away, they both laughed. Blake’s smile was ear to ear. “Oh man, that was almost worth more to me than going in the club itself!”
“Glad I could oblige…Baby Doll.” Ian put his arm around Blake’s shoulder.
“Thanks Daddy.” And slipped his arm around Ian’s waist.
Ian looked around, “Now where did Wella get off to?”
It didn’t take them long to spot her, standing toe to toe with a bouncer towering behind a velvet rope. She was just staring at him and he was staring off into space.
Ian touched her on the shoulder. “Wella, are you okay?” Ian asked.
“I am fine.” She said.
“Ready to go in?”
“Uh huh” she was unmoved.
Ian looked a little worried behind her. But stepped up to the bouncer and realized that he had no idea how to go about this. “Hi, I’m….”
The large man broke frame and reached for the rope. “I know who you are Mr. Justyn. Is this your party?”
The “party” was shocked. “Uh…yes” Ian tried to look unfazed.
The man unsnapped the rope and motioned them in. “Enjoy you’re evening, Mr. Justyn. Let me know if I can be of any service.”
They stepped through…well, Blake and Ian stepped through, Ian had to grab Wella’s hand and yank her through. Ian couldn’t help but ask, “Excuse me, sir…”
“Ripley, Mr. Justyn, you can call me Ripley.”
“Thank you, Ripley. Uhm…how do you know me?”
The large looming man looked him in the eye. “It’s my job, sir.”
“Oh”, he said, “and Ian, call me Ian.”
“Thank you, sir. Have a good night, sir.” Ian took a step forward and had to go back and grab Wella’s hand. He whispered in her ear. “Wella what the hell is wrong with you.”
She didn’t bother to whisper, but said loud enough for all to hear, “That is the biggest most beautiful white man I have ever seen in my life.”
“Wella!” Ian grabbed her hand and tried to yank her through the entrance.
Ian hadn’t been sure what to expect inside. Tippy had told him that since it was a mixed group that she chose a place for everyone, Tippy long hand for what Ian had heard called a “bi-bar”. She explained to him that the bar was divided in half, the bar on the right side was for straights and the bar on the left side was for the gays. There would be tables and chairs for everyone in their prospective, but the booths down the middle were for those who hadn’t made up their minds or just didn’t want to commit.
He had to admit that he expected something a little dark and sleazy, but this wasn’t like anything he had imagined. While the lighting was dark, the room and the carpet itself were light colored; all whites and gold. Everything was pristine, no smoke or the sound of shoes sticking to the floor as you walked across.
Ian panicked for a moment when a woman came up to him and said, “Oh yes, Mr. Justyn. Right this way, everything has been arranged for you.” He wondered which side Tippy had arranged for him to be on. He wanted to head straight for the straight side, but didn’t want Blake to feel uncomfortable or left out.
As he looked around the room, he couldn’t really determine which side had the straight people and which side had the gay. He actually found it quite relieving and was pleased that not only were they seated in the center booths, but at a place where he could watch the comings and comings. He laughed a little at what a voyeur he was becoming.
“What’s so funny?” Wella asked him.
“Nothing” he shook it off.
Drinks and “munchies” were immediately supplied for them without asking. Either Tippy had made good guesses or these people were just damned good. Wella and Blake began chirping and chatting and Ian enjoyed himself taking in the action of the room.
There was a middle aged couple chatting with a young muscle guy against the wall. Ian assumed they were trying to talk him into a three way. To the other side, he spotted a guy from one of the soaps on his own network making time with a redhead who seemed to be more interested in her own reflection in the mirror behind the soap stud.
The place was packed, but not so crowded that you couldn’t enjoy yourself. It was early, but Blake had informed him that they kept a count to keep the room to a minimum. At the peak hours of the night, even the people on the list couldn’t get in until someone left.
Blake and Wella were busy trying not to make spectacles of them selves pointing out the “names” in the club.
“Look over there!” Blake tried not to squeal. “No, don’t look. Okay now look. It’s Saxon Allen!” He flopped his arms across the tabletop and feigned a swoon. “I luuuuuuuv her!”
“Well, you got her attention.” Wella sipped her spritzer. “She’s looking this way.”
“Oh ma’god.” Blake froze. “I’ll die if she looks at me. I’ll just die!”
The trio turned their heads to the classic and classy blonde bombshell standing by the bar with a hand on her hip. She looked intently, and then smiled coyly.
“She is looking this way.” Blake tried to whisper. “Saxon Allen, is looking this way.”
“Oh butch up, Blake.” Ian said placing his scotch firmly on the wood. “She’s just a human being, not the Goddess of Human Kind.”
“Maybe not in bars you go to…” Blake mumbled.
“Well, get ready to worship, Blake.” Wella sipped her drink again. “She seems to be headed this way.”
And there was no doubt. Saxon Allen had picked up her wine and was headed straight for them. Blake was trying not to hyperventilate. Wella was busy telling Ian that she was the front runner for this year’s Best Actress Oscar while trying to look like she wasn’t saying anything, and Ian just stood up to face her.
The paparazzi darling sauntered right up, placed her drink on the table and calmly said, “Someone never returns my phone calls.”
Ian looked at her. “Why on Earth would I deign to return your phone calls, Kleenex Girl?”
The blonde threw back her head and laughed, then grabbed Ian by the velvet lapels and laid one on him. They lost track of how many times it had happened that night, but once again Blake and Wella were dumbfounded, mouths open, shocked beyond belief. Ian was too busy returning the kiss to notice.
Saxon finally broke the kiss and pushed Ian away. “I mean it Ian, I’m hurt. Why haven’t you returned my calls?”
“It was just two, not a thousand, and I kept meaning to, but I keep losing my phone.”
She gave him a look of disbelief. Blake found his tongue. “True. I have to have it replaced for him at least once a week. They won’t even give us insurance anymore.”
“And I keep meaning to have him pick up one of those raspberry things…”
“Blackberry.” Wella shot in.
“Blackberry,” Ian took the correction. “Aren’t they bigger and harder to misplace?”
Saxon giggled. “You are such a dork!” She took a breath. “Who are your friends?”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Ian introduced them. She looked a little hesitant to let Blake touch her hand, but he managed to not urinate on himself.
“And where’s Clare? She’s not going to jump out from under the table and claw my eyes out, is she?”
“Don’t worry,” He motioned for her to join them. “I had that fungus removed.”
“It’s not going to grow back again, is it?”
“Not this time. Several villages had to be sacrificed, and a few heavy rounds of nuclear anti-toxins were used liberally, but that unsightly stain has finally been permanently removed.” Ian took her hand as she seated herself beside him. He looked around a bit. “And where, pray tell, is your flavor of the month?”
Saxon rolled her eyes, “Under one of the tables for all I know. BUT, the movie is open and doing well, so after tonight, I am no longer obligated to see and be seen with that unsightly stain again.” She looked over at Wella. “I hate romantic comedies. You either get paired with a with a big ego and bad breath or a big hunk who really just wants to wear your panties.”
Blake patted her hand. “You and Julia Roberts have so much in common.”
“Why do you even bother?” Ian asked.
She smiled. “As I’m sure you are quickly learning, the social setting is where all the seeds of the really big deals are planted. Being a team player in public, is what it’s all about.”
“That’s what I’m told.” Ian said.
Suddenly a voice whined toward them. “Saxy, I’m bored!” slurred their way from a big muscle of a man.
Saxon looked at Ian and rolled her eyes. Ian turned to her “Saxy?”
“Better than Kleenex girl.” She kissed him quickly and stood up. “It was so nice to meet y’all.” She put her hands to her lips and giggled. “Okay, a little too much wine. Now are you going to call me? I’m keeping my promise!”
“I’d almost forgotten about that.” Ian smiled.
“No you didn’t and neither did I.” She leaned over and kissed him again. “Call me or I’ll have the Clare monster reanimated!”
“Call the office.” Blake popped in. “I’ll make sure you get through.”
Saxon smiled. “Actually…”
“I see the wheels turning.” Ian teased.
“I’m a natural blonde.” She giggled. “I can’t help it.” Saxon put her arm under her whiney, weaving attractive flavor of the month’s arm. “Everyone, this is Jason Dunning. Jason these are actual human beings.”
“Hello, humans.” The man tried not to slur. “You may remember me as Hot Steel, from my WWF days.”
Saxon rolled her eyes again and tugged on the man. “Com’mon, let’s get you out of here.” They bobbled away, Saxon turning her head at the last minute and mouthed “Love you.”
The trio couldn’t help but hear her chide him. “Dammit Jason, you have semen on your chin. How am I supposed to be an effective beard if you keep getting drunk and blowing strangers in the john…”
Ian watched her go, smiling; at last a good memory. When he returned to reality Wella and Blake were both staring at him. “What?”
“Why didn’t you tell us you…knew Saxon Allen?” Wella asked.
“I didn’t think it was important.”
“Not important?” Blake practically had a hissy. “She is the actress right now.”
“I know.” Ian said. “But what does an old friend…”
“She looked liked more than a friend.” Wella looked him straight in the eye.
“We went to college together.”
“Oh come on…” Blake demanded. “You cannot tell me you don’t find that woman hot and sexy. I’m a flaming queen and I’d do her in a heartbeat.”
Ian laughed. “Sorry, it’s just hard to think of someone that way when you’ve seen her in your boxer shorts throwing up on herself.”
“So you have…” Wella started to say but Ian cut her off.
“Long story…not your business, and no we’ve never…” Ian just let it drop. “We’re old college buddies, nothing more.”
Wella and Blake looked at each other and smiled. “Uh huh.” Blake nudged Wella.
“But maybe now that this Clare monster is out of the picture…” Wella hinted.
“Oh please.” Ian sat straight up. “She’s like a sister.”
“Well,” Blake pushed the umbrella aside and sipped from his drink. “You are Southern.”
“Not that Southern!” Ian looked at them both. “Now I love you both, but let’s make a pact. I will not pimp for you and you sure as hell won’t pimp for me.”
Wella through up her hands. “Fine. Just thought I’d make sure that you understood a possible opportunity. It’s my job.”
“Your job is to help me find and make opportunities for HRT Studios, not to commit incest on a sticky table at a night club.”
“This table’s not sticky.” Blake wiped his hand across it and looked at Wella. “Do you think this table is sticky?”
Wella slapped at Blake’s hand. “That’s not what I was reminding you of…dork…Miss Saxon is rumored to be in the process of starting her own production company. It’s the natural next step for her, and should she actually win that Oscar, every non-old college friend in town will be fighting for a piece of her action…if you get my drift.”
“Oh…” Ian got the point. “Sorry.” He frowned. “But I hate taking advantage of old friendships just to further my own career.”
“Ian, you are so adorkable.” Wella smiled. “That’s your job.”
Ian hadn’t realized how quickly he had knocked back his scotch, his sipping alcohol. He tried to get the attention of a waiter, but finally gave up and decided just to go to the bar and get one. He asked his cohorts if they needed another. They said they were fine but he would get them another any way, just so he didn’t feel like a lush.
He stood up and was hit with the dilemma of which side of the bar to go to. He looked to his left and then to his right, when Blake grabbed his hand and said, “Just go get a drink, you damned chicken.”
Ian bent over and smiled at him, “Be careful Baby Doll or Daddy will have to spank!” Ian hoisted himself and walked to the side that seemed to have an opening at the nearest bartender.
He was able to walk right up to where a bartender immediately said, “Yes, may I help you?”
Ian ordered a Chivas with water, a white wine spritzer and “one of those thick pink things with the umbrella in it”. The bartender laughed and began to put together the concoctions.
Another bartender appeared and leaned against the bar. “Hi, may I help you Mr. Justyn?”
It was happening a little too much and he was beginning to get paranoid. “Do I know you?” he asked.
The man leaned in a little further dropping his voice to a low suggestive tone, “No, but I get off at two.”
Ian leaned in closer imitating the man’s tone and said, “And you’ll be getting off alone, too.”
The other bartender brushed the guy physically aside, and said, “Why don’t you have a seat, sir, and I’ll bring these over to you.”
“Thank you.” Ian turned to head back to his seat noticing that Blake had already started up a conversation with another man about his age and had joined him at his table. As he slid back into the booth he said to Wella, “So we’ve been abandoned.”
“Yes,” she said, “they grow up so fast.”
A rather attractive man leaned over to Wella and said, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I wondered if you would give me the honor of joining me on the dance floor?”
Wella looked at Ian and smiled. He waved his hands at her, mouthing “Go! Go!”
And Ian found himself at the most exclusive club in the country totally exclusive. It didn’t help that the bartender brought a tray moments after Wella “boogied” away and began putting three drinks in front of him. He looked up at the bartender and said, “I do this so well, don’t I?”
The bartender smiled and assured him, “You’ll be just fine. Mr. Justyn.”
“Okay, stop! Stop!” Ian begged, “It’s getting creepy. How the hell does everyone know me? I swear I’ve never seen any of you before in my life!”
The bartender looked at him questionably. “You honestly don’t know?”
“No and it’s driving me crazy.”
“We are all required to read the trade magazines, sir, and are all given a list with pictures of anyone who is on the list for our shifts. We all know that you are Ian Justyn, a new development executive at HRT network, that you come from a small market affiliate where you produced several news programs with ratings spike big enough to gather the attention of the network itself in less than five years, and you are also one of the youngest execs at that network ever.” He swiped a small spot of water from the table with a napkin and put it on his tray. “You are currently the only development executive in the country under thirty.”
“I’m kind of impressed.” Ian looked at the guy.
“You are the talk of the town right now, Mr. Justyn.”
“I was talking about the service technique, not me.”
“Get used to it, Mr. Justyn.” He said as he accepted several bills to cover the drinks including a nice tip.
“Well, they are talking today, tomorrow they may be laughing.”
“That’s the name of the game, Mr. Justyn.”
“It’s all a little disconcerting…and please, call me Ian—and you can spread that around.”
He smiled, “Would it make you feel better if you knew my name?”
Ian was genuinely grateful. “Yes, yes it would.”
“Blue, my name is Blue.”
“It’s nice to meet you Blue.” Ian put out his hand which the waiter took and shook. “I’m Ian Justyn, dork of the hour.”
“Small world,” Blue said. “Well, I’d better get back to my post, hope to chat with you later. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Yeah,” Ian said as he watched his new friend walk away. “Hey, Blue, is there a place I can catch a smoke?”
“Just go past the rest rooms over there, there’s a door at the end of the hallway. We have an overhang set up out back. Don’t worry about your table; it’s yours until you leave.”
“Thanks.” Ian tried to find his friends to tell him he was stepping out for a smoke, but gave up quickly and headed for a Marlboro. He found the rest room, slipped out the last door into the open air and pulled out a smoke.
He immediately recognized the big hulk of a man standing in the shadows, hands in the pockets of his blue slacks, biceps bulging and pecs straining the fabric of an expensive white shirt. Ian pointed at him and said, “Ripley, right?”
The man smiled at being remembered, “Yes, sir.” He pulled a hand out of his trouser pockets and flicked a lighter holding it out for Ian.
Ian cupped his hands around it, puffed until the cherry blazed and said, “Thank you.” He exhaled and looked at the man. “You’re not following me are you?”
“No, sir, we switch around the five stations every hour. Helps us follow the crowd and keep things in check. You are actually following me.”
“Sorry, I’ll try to not make a habit of it.” Ian said.
Ripley smiled a little. “Doesn’t bother me at all, sir.”
“Okay.” Ian wasn’t sure what to make of that. He turned and busied himself surveying the smoking crowd, noticing a woman with long dark hair that looked vaguely familiar. She had on a red halter-top dress cut down to there.
Ian noticed her returning his gaze, and he thought “Hmm, maybe I came to the right place.” He was just about to step a little toward her to gage her response when he heard his name called.
“Ian?”
He turned to see another face he recognized. “Marc?” They quickly ran together and embraced, slapping each other on the back.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Marc asked.
“Well, apparently you aren’t required to read the trades.” Ian joshed.
“Huh?” Marc said
They quickly caught up. Marc Torrey and Ian had been in a band together during and for a few years after college. They played what they laughingly called the “Knoxpatch circuit”, a few minor clubs in the Knoxville and Gatlinburg area. They had gained a little following but Ian left the band when he got the job in Bristol. They had lost contact.
It turns out that most of the band was still together, although they were now called “El Toro”. They had made their way across country and were the house band for the weekend at Open Fields.
They smoked their cigarettes and caught up on old times. “Hey, you got to sing with us next set, Ian.” Marc interjected out of the blue.
Ian shook his head, “I am strictly a shower singer these days.”
“Oh come on dude, you gotta do at least one song with us. Who knows, you might get discovered.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I’ll make you change your mind…hey you still with Clair?” He asked.
“Oh God, no. She’s is Bristol, torturing some other fool I guess. What about you? You still with Angela?”
“Oh yeah, made an honest woman of her four years ago. We got twin boys, 19 months old.”
“Congratulations man.”
About that time, the door swung open and this time Marc’s name was called. “There you are. We need to get ready and start the next set.”
Marc turned to the man in the door, “Hey Hooper, look whose here!” Marc presented Ian and the two hugged and slapped each other on the back. “Hey, dude, wanna chat, but we got get our asses back inside. See you later. You comin, Torrey?”
Marc squished a freshly lit smoke on the ground, “Yeah, yeah be right there.” He turned back to Ian, “You coming back in to hear us?”
“Yeah, I’ll be in as soon as I finish this one” Ian waved his freshly lit Marlboro in the air.
“Cool”, Marc disappeared.
Ian inhaled is smoke deeply and looked to find the woman, but the red dressed vixen was gone.
Ian made his way back into the building and maneuvered himself back to his table. His drink was empty and his friends still gone. He tried to get Blue’s attention, but the crowd around the bar was too thick. El Toro had started, so he sat down and to just enjoy his old band while waiting for a waiter to stop by or he was able to get to the bar.
The stage was on the other side of the dance floor, which was between the booths and the stage. Ian had a great view from the closest edge of the floor. He could see the crowd, including both Wella and Blake enjoying themselves, and El Toro leading with a rocking tune he didn’t recognize. When it ended the crowd clapped, and Marc at the center mike thanked them with the standard cover band thank you.
“For those of you, who don’t know, we call ourselves El Toro and we wanna thank you for coming out tonight, pardon the pun.” He pointed to fingers out to the crowd and several got the bad joke and laughed. “We’ve been together for quite a while, and most of us are originally from the coal mines of Virginia.” He started strumming on his guitar a little.
“We do a lot of original material these days, but we also find that a lot of you enjoy some familiar tunes as well. Now we like to think our days as a cover band are long gone, but we always use our final set of the night to do some old stuff that we still love playing and hope you still enjoy, too.”
Some people in the bar started cheering. Ian cheered along, he was excited to hear them do some stuff that maybe he hadn’t heard in a while. He was looking forward to the comfort.
Marc held his hands up to get everyone quiet. “And we boys in the band have a special treat. It seems our original lead singer is in the house tonight, and if every body gets loud enough, maybe we can persuade him to come up here and do the set with us.”
Ian looked for the exits, but the crowd was stirring, looking around to see who the guy was, probably hopping he was some hot rock dude or TV star…were they in for a let down.
Marc kept going, “Many of you haven’t heard the name yet, but believe me you will, and if you’ve never heard this man sing you are in for a treat, plus ladies he’s pretty easy on the eyes.” Women, and some of the men, cheered. “Put your hands together and welcome to the stage Mister…Ian…Justyn...”
It was too late; a spotlight from somewhere hit Ian in the face. The crowd started clapping and somewhere faintly he heard Blake scream “Go for it, Baby Doll!” The people on the dance floor parted and allowed Ian on the stage. A few members of the band shook his hand and welcomed him with huge smiles on their faces.
Ian was about to wet his pants. He noticed a man standing at the foot of the stage holding a familiar colored liquid . Ian asked him, “Scotch?”
The man nodded his head. He reached for it and took it out of his hand. “Can I have a swallow?”
“Sure”, the man smiled, “any time.”
Ian put the drink to his lips and nodded thank you when recognition hit him. The man’s blonde curly hair was unforgettable. It was the stranger from the balcony across the yard.
Ian knocked the drink back in one gulp and handed the glass back. The man leaned over and whispered into his ear. “Kellen, the name’s Kellen…Ian” and smiled.
Ian stepped back up on the stage and looked across the dance floor. “Blue? Where’s Blue?”
He heard Blue answer and wave off in a distance. “Over here…”
“Bring this man a scotch…and a double for me.”
“You got it!” The stranger on the edge of the dance floor smiled and mouthed thank you.
Ian turned to the crowd, took the mike and said, “Now let’s sing.” They cheered as an old familiar seventies rock tune began. He didn’t know if it was the third scotch kicking in, fear, adrenaline or a combination thereof but he had a blast, and he didn’t think he was half bad.
They did some old Rolling Stones stuff, a few Bee Gees tunes and a couple of things Ian barely remembered but muddled through some how. He even managed to get through “Livin La Vida Loca” which he’d only sung in the shower before.
Between each song he’d thank the crowd and start to step down. The crowd would yell ‘more more’ until it even got old to Ian. He just stopped trying to leave and started turning to Marc and asking what was next. Ian started to recognize the old set and a couple of times even remembered, either that or the band was following his lead.
He had long since lost the jacket and either unbuttoned most of his shirt or popped the buttons as he gyrated his pelvis and wiggled his rear for the crowd. The band played for forty-five minutes and Ian was about to drop. Fortunately that was just about all the repertoire he knew. He thanked the group and introduced each band member like in the old days.
Marc slipped back up and put his arm around Ian’s shoulders. “What’d I tell you? Isn’t he fantastic? Mr. Ian Justyn!”
The crowd practically tore the roof off the place. “Now we got one more song for you.” The crowd was vocal about disappointment. “But it’s something slow and sexy. So guys grab your girl, or girl grab your guys…aw hell whoever grab whatever you’re in the mood for…” he shot a look at Ian. “And just to prove how amazing this man right here is, he’s gonna sing something he’s never seen before.”
“Huh?” Ian almost fainted.
“This is something the band’s been working on and we’ve waited till just the right time, and tonight we think the time is right.” Hooper produced a music stand with some sheet music on it and a stool. He forced Ian down on the stool and placed the stand in front of him.
Hooper to him, “Oh god, Ian, this is gonna blow everyone’s mind. Just look it over, you’ll be fine.”
“Shit” was all Ian could say. Hooper kissed him on the forehead and several ladies and guys cheered. Hooper pointed to the music and flipped through the pages.
“See it’s easy. Just be you, man. It’s perfect.”
Ian nodded is head in drunken fear and looked at the sheet music. It was easy and the band started playing. He said, “Wait! Wait!” The band stopped and the crowd giggled.
“On the bridge, take it up half a step and then follow me.” Marc and Hooper high fived and the band started again. He waited until just the right moment and cautiously lifted the mic to his lips and began to sing.
The melody was simple, but the words powerful and vivid. Ian found himself lost in the words about hopes and dreams and what might just happen if he took a chance and held on. When the refrain came he stood and walked toward the crowd. They had stopped dancing and were mesmerized by Ian’s voice and the conviction crying from his heart that things had been rough, and he didn’t think it was possible to go on “Until Now”.
When the bridge hit and Ian’s voice soared, the crowd soared with him. The final refrain kicked in an entire octave higher, and is voice easily rose both begging and assuring, everyone there forgot there were other people in the room because they all knew that Ian Justyn was singing only to them.
Ian pulled back and quietly hit the final bars almost in a whisper, on perfect pitch to the silently beating hearts of one, “I never dreamed the world would come true…until now.”
There was a good five seconds of silence, only Ian’s breathing could be heard and suddenly the place went absolutely wild. Ian and the band stood humbly, tears streaming down Ian’s face as the crowd loved him more than he had ever been loved before.
In the back of the pandemonium, a figure stood, tears of their own covering their face, saying to no one who could hear, “My God, he got the voice, too.” And then they were gone.
The next few minutes were a blur. Ian stepped out into the crowd to get back to his table. He was kissed, his hand shook and his ass tweaked. Phone numbers from both sexes were shoved in his pockets and he was propositioned so many times his head spin.
And Ian just wanted to go home. The scotch was more than he’d had in years. His head was reeling and the room spinning. He looked for his friends. Wella finally rushed up and bear hugged him.
“Holy Shit, Ian…holy shit!” He pushed away from her.
“Look you and Blake stay and have a great time. I just need to go home.”
She looked concerned, “You okay?”
He nodded, “Fine, just a little too much booze and way too much energy. I’ll send the limo back.” Ian kissed her cheek. “Love to Blake.”
Someone else grabbed him and propositioned him, he wasn’t even sure what sex the person was, but they sure weren’t letting go. He felt a pair of hands pry them apart, and heard a voice he recognized.
“You okay, Ian?” It was Blue.
“Need some air, buddy. Just get me out of here.” Blue put his arm around him and helped Ian outside. Ian wasn’t sure how long it took, but he heard Blue push a few people off and tell someone to call his driver. He stood with him for a moment when the fresh air hit him. Ian felt his knees buckle a little, but he managed to focus.
“You gonna be okay there?” Blue asked.
“Yes, thank you. I’ll be fine now, just a little over whelmed.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“Your driver is on the way. Just stay right here, okay.” Blue turned to go in, but turned back. “I usually don’t do this, and my girl friend would kill me if she found out, but I just can’t help it. You were just too hot!” He scribbled his number down on a piece of paper and stuck it down the front of Ian’s pants. “I don’t care what you are into. Call me. Any time.” Blue then disappeared inside the club.
Ian bent over and put his hands on his thighs and took a deep breath of night air. Another familiar voice came from behind him. “Sir, are you okay?”
Ian waved off the voice. He didn’t want more hands on him. Ian just wanted to go home. But the voice insisted.
“Mr. Justyn, sir, your jacket.” The jacket was thrust gently under in his sight line. Ian eased up and took it.
“Oh, thank you…” and when he recognized the face, “Ripley”
“You are very welcome sir….anything else sir?”
Rubbing his sore abdomen, “Not unless you can recommend a good gym, I am so out of shape.”
Ripley smiled. “You looked just fine…Ian.” Ripley opened his wallet and took out a card as Ian thought “Oh God”.
He handed it to Ian. “A friend of mine works at this gym. Tell ‘em I told you to call, they’ll set you up.”
Ian accepted the card. “Thank you, I just might do that.” The chauffer arrived and opened the door for Ian. He slopped himself in as soberly as he could, doing quite an admirable job. As the limo pulled off he pushed the down button on the window and drifted off to sleep.
“We’re here.” He awoke to the chauffer standing in front of the open car door. He had slept the whole drive home. He thanked her politely, tipped her generously and asked her if she would mind going back and waiting for the others should they need a lift. She informed him it was her pleasure and was gone.
Ian found himself still a little tipsy and standing in his front yard. He wandered slowly to the front door, new jacket dragging like Linus’s blanket behind him. He didn’t bother to turn the lights on. He just threw the jacket on the couch, dropped out of his shoes and headed to the bedroom stairs.
He sprawled across the bed for a few minutes, trying to focus on a spot that wasn’t spinning. He wasn’t sure if he should laugh or cry, after all he had turned a room full of people on but he had still came home alone.
Ian reached in his pockets and pulled out bits of wadded up papers and cards. He thought about leafing through them and picking one at random. He decided just to undress and forget it.
When he stood he felt something strange in his sexy new boxer briefs. He reached down and found a crumpled bar tab. It was blank on one side and on the other he could make out “Call me for anything, Blue” with a cell phone number. He chuckled to himself, wadded it up and landed it in the trash with no net.
Ian reached for the remote and opened both the drapes and the glass doors and strolled out to the balcony. He stumbled carefully down the steps to the underpinning by the downstairs back entrance. He pressed an almost hidden button and the pool under lighting snapped on.
“There,” he said proudly to the stars, “I learned something.”
He sighed and walked back up the steps and just sat on the floor, feet on the last step. He reached for a smoke, lit it up and inhaled. When he exhaled he leaned back on one arm and stared straight up and began to count the stars.
He didn’t see the figure watch him for a moment. Nor did he see that figure slip deep into the shadows and then disappear.
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