Rock Chick Rescue Page 26

  “Ally is a crazy Rock Chick,” he said.

  I couldn’t help it, I let out a little giggle.

  He watched me for a beat, then his face got serious. “I don’t like what you’re doin’, I don’t agree with it and if I can, I’ll stop it.”

  Wonderful

  I didn’t like that he didn’t like it but I nodded anyway.

  We were at an impasse and we both knew it.

  “This your way of tryin’ to prove to me you’re boring? If it is, I should warn you, it really isn’t workin’.”

  I shook my head then tried again to use the truth and said, “Eddie, trust me, I am boring.”

  The dimple came out.

  “You’re crazy.”

  “I’m not.”

  “What are you doin’ now?”

  “Indy and I are meeting Daisy at the Cruise Room for a drink.”

  His eyes flared.

  “You are crazy.”

  “I’m not.”

  We stared at each other again, I was preparing for another battle but to my surprise, he gave in again.

  “For Christ’s sake, Chiquita, be careful,” he said.

  I snuggled deeper into his body, I didn’t have a choice since his arm went super-tight around me, and I said, “Okay.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Daisy, Indy and Me - The Unholy Trinity

  We met Daisy in the ultra-cool, art deco Cruise Room of the Oxford Hotel.

  Daisy was already sitting in a booth, waiting for us. She was decked out in second-skin denim and rhinestones, the two-buttoned jacket exposing acres of cleavage. The purply-pink neon that had been giving cool ass atmosphere to the Cruise Room for nearly one hundred years was shining in platinum-blonde hair that was so teased and sprayed I figured environmental watch groups had campaigns dedicated to stopping her single-handed destruction of the ozone layer.

  We ordered dirty martinis and settled in.

  Daisy turned cornflower-blue eyes to me, “All right, Sugar, tell Auntie Daisy all about it.”

  I didn’t hesitate, she knew some of it anyway after my Smithie’s meltdown, so I told her the story of my life, reciting it for the millionth time that week. Any hopes I held of quietly going it alone were long since gone.

  Halfway through my story, she took my hand and didn’t let go.

  When I was done, she squeezed my hand.

  For some reason, she asked, “Jet, darlin’, you seen Steel Magnolias?”

  I nodded.

  “That’s my favorite movie of all time,” she told me.

  This wasn’t a surprise.

  She leaned into me, “You and me, Sugar, we’re Steel Magnolias.” Then she let go of my hand and without further ado, she launched into her story.

  It was a whole hell of a lot more sad and scary than mine.

  Halfway through her story I grabbed her hand and didn’t let go. When I did, tears filled the bottoms of her eyes but she didn’t let them fall.

  This wasn’t a surprise either. If her story was anything to go by, Daisy hadn’t been touched by kindness a whole lot in her life, either physically or emotionally. In fact, Marcus and Smithie were the only two men she’d known that treated her right.

  When she was done, I squeezed her hand.

  “Now I’m with Marcus and, don’t get me wrong, I’m mostly happy. But a girl has to have girlfriends, comprende?” Indy and I both nodded, we comprende’ed. “And, I’m here to tell you, the snooty society bitches of Denver just do not get me. I don’t have a single friend in the whole world who isn’t laughing behind my back or scared to death of Marcus.”

  I looked at Indy.

  “I think it’s time for another martini,” Indy said and gestured to a waiter.

  Daisy went on after we’d received our second round.

  “I ain’t ashamed to say, I haven’t had as much fun as I had with you and your friends at Smithie’s in ages. That is, of course, before you got shot at,” she said to me.

  “Of course,” I said.

  We all let this sink in while we took a sip of the second round.

  “Do you think I have to worry about Vince?” I asked.

  She winced.

  “Vince is a mean, dirty motherfucker, if you’ll excuse my French. I wouldn’t have thought he’d go against Marcus but the jackass is entirely unable to take a blow to his manhood, in this case, literally.”

  Then she gave a little tinkly-bell giggle.

  I wasn’t certain I thought it was funny.

  She caught the look on my face and the laughter went out of hers, “I’ll ask Marcus to keep an eye out for him.”

  Um, I didn’t think that was a good idea. I wasn’t sure Eddie wanted Marcus to be a member of my Protection Posse.

  “Daisy…”

  She shook her purple-tinged head, wagged a finger at me and I was quiet. I wasn’t quiet because I didn’t have an argument, I was mesmerized by her fingernail, which was super-long, filed in a lethal curve and had little fake diamonds imbedded into it in the shape a four-leaf clover.

  She dropped her finger and we all took another sip of the second round.

  Then Daisy said, “What’re you gonna do about your Daddy?”

  I took a deep breath and shared, “I’ve been thinking, he’s playing poker, right?” Indy and Daisy nodded, “So, I’ve decided. I need to get into a game and ask some questions. Maybe someone knows where he is.”

  Daisy stared at me like I’d just announced my intention to invade Nicaragua.

  “You play poker?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Those games are serious, girl. First off, they don’t know you and probably won’t let you in. Second, they ain’t fond of women sittin’ a table. Third, you don’t sit a table unless you know what you’re doin’.”

  I’d figured that.

  “I have a plan,” I said and I did. It was kind of a stupid plan but it was all I had.

  “We’re all ears,” Indy urged when I didn’t go on.

  “Well. I thought I’d wear a modified Smithie’s uniform; the uniform has a weird power over men so if I wore something like that and maybe they’d let me in. Then, before I did it, I’d read a book about poker and then…” I hesitated, “I guess then I’d just wing it.”

  Daisy laughed her tinkly bell laugh again.

  “Ain’t you sweet?” she said when she was done laughing.

  Um, guess my plan wasn’t going to work.

  Then her eyes got serious. “I play poker. I’ll sit a game, no one’ll say boo to me. You and Indy come with and I’ll ask the questions. Those boys know me and they’ll talk, thinkin’ I’m askin’ for Marcus. We’ll find out where your Daddy is and we’ll sort this all out.”

  I wasn’t sure that was a good idea.

  “Maybe I should try to do this myself, you and Indy…”

  Daisy shook her head and with what I was noticing was her customary brutal honesty, she said, “I can’t have babies, Sugar, Marcus and me been tryin’ for two years. But I got a motherin’ instinct, believe you me, and this Mama Bear ain’t lettin’ her new cub get eaten by the big, bad lions, comprende?”

  I wasn’t sure all that went together but I wasn’t going to say anything.

  “It’ll be fun,” she said in a swift change of mood, though being eaten by big, bad lions didn’t sound fun. “We’ll get dressed up, make a night of it. You two got somethin’ spangly to wear?” Her purply blonde head swung from Indy to me.

  I shook my head, thinking this may be our way out but Indy said, “You remember Tod?” Daisy nodded. “Well, he’s a drag queen and generous with his wardrobe.”

  Wonderful.

  These two had an answer for everything.

  Daisy sucked back half of her martini. My throat burned in sympathy.

  When she was done, she said, “Perfect. We’ll do it tonight.”

  I choked on my martini.

  Tonight?

  “I think I have a problem with that,” I said.

&n
bsp; Indy and Daisy turned to me.

  “Eddie isn’t thrilled about me going after Dad and I’m kind of living with him. We’re going shopping for coffee makers tonight and then I don’t know what we’re doing. I’m not sure I’ll be able to get away.”

  “Ooowee, coffee makers. Sounds like this Eddie is serious,” Daisy said.

  I gave her a look and she giggled.

  Indy sat back.

  “This is where I come in. I used to get grounded all the time. I might be a little rusty, but I was the queen of the escape plan. Leave it to me.”

  Daisy’s laugh tinkled again, “This is soundin’ better by the minute.”

  Not to me.

  To me it was sounding scarier by the minute, but I had no choice. If I didn’t want to get raped (eventually), shot at anymore and owe a posse of new friends for saving my life and my somewhat-tainted virtue, I had to kick in.

  So, we lifted the dregs of our second martini and toasted our plan; Daisy with a giggle, Indy with a grin and me with a belly clutch.

  * * * * *

  It was an hour later and we were slowly nursing our fourth martini (because two was enough, four was just plain crazy) when Daisy’s eyes locked on something over my shoulder and she sucked in breath.

  “Oh sweet Lord, if I didn’t have Marcus, I’d get me some of that.”

  I looked over my shoulder and saw Eddie scanning the room. His eyes hit me and he started coming our way.

  My belly curled in a happy way.

  I ignored my belly, turned back and told Daisy, “That’s Eddie.”

  Daisy’s eyes dropped to the badge Eddie wore on his belt.

  “Eddie, as in Eddie Chavez?” she said to me, her eyes getting wide.

  I nodded.

  “Seein’ as my baby’s in the business he’s in, I don’t normally like cops, but this time, I’m makin’ an exception.”

  I felt a hand curve around the back of my neck and I tilted my head to look up. Eddie bent low and his mouth touched mine, my happy belly curl went into overdrive and then he straightened and took in Indy and Daisy.

  “Ladies,” he said.

  I introduced Daisy, she put her hand in his and said, straight out, “Sugar Bunch, you are fine.”

  Eddie smiled but didn’t say anything. What could you say?

  His eyes turned to me. “We’ve got an errand to run,” he reminded me (like I’d forget).

  I got up and waved to the girls.

  “I’ll call you later,” Indy said, giving me a look.

  I nodded to Indy and Eddie steered me out of the room. It took a lot of steering, I had a serious buzz on.

  When I wandered into him, Eddie looked down at me and his hand at my back slid around my side and he pulled me to him but kept walking.

  “You drunk?” he asked, sounding amused.

  “Maybe just a little bit,” I admitted, “I think I should have stopped at the third martini.”

  We’d cleared the bar and were standing by Eddie’s truck, parked at the curb. He pushed me into it with a hand at my belly and got close.

  “So, you’re saying you didn’t stop at the third martini?”

  I shook my head.

  “And you’re maybe just a little bit drunk?”

  I nodded my head.

  He got in closer.

  “Boring, my ass,” he muttered.

  This time, I cocked my head and pulled out The Glare. Maybe it was the third martini, maybe it was the second sip into the forth but I went all attitude.

  “Mark my words, Eddie Chavez and don’t say I didn’t warn you. When this is all over you’ll wonder what the hell you’re doing with me. I’m boring, boring, boring… b-o-r-i-n-g.” I was pretty pleased, considering I was seriously tipsy, that I could spell boring.

  His head dipped low and came close to mine. “How bad do you need coffee in the morning?” he asked.

  I blinked, not keeping up with the conversation.

  “Why?”

  “I’m thinkin’, in your condition, I might try and see how boring you are naked.”

  Eek.

  “I need coffee really bad in the morning,” I told him.

  He grinned.

  “Right,” he said.

  We got in the truck and Eddie pulled out.

  “What was with the look?” Eddie asked when we were headed out of Downtown.

  “What look?” I tried innocence.

  Of course, Eddie would have noticed Indy’s look.

  “Indy’s look,” he answered

  See what I mean?

  “There wasn’t a look,” I lied.

  “You are so full of shit,” he muttered.

  This time, he wasn’t wrong.

  We went to Best Buy on Colorado Boulevard and Eddie directed us toward the coffee makers. I stood in the aisle, swaying a little bit, not only because of the martinis but also because I was in Best Buy with a hot guy shopping for coffee makers. I stared at the plethora of machines on display as if one was going to grow teeth and bite me.

  “What do you want?” Eddie asked.

  “A coffee maker,” I replied.

  “Yeah,” he grinned at me, “but which one?”

  I stared at them, did a quick price check and pointed at the cheapest one.

  Eddie shook his head, the grin still in place, walked passed the one I pointed to and grabbed an upper mid-range, programmable, 14-cup KitchenAid. It wasn’t the mother of all coffee makers, but it wasn’t anything to turn your nose up at either. He tucked it under one arm, took my hand and pulled me down the aisle.

  “Anything else you need to make you less grouchy in the morning? A blender? A toaster?” he asked.

  I came to a dead halt and stared at him.

  “You don’t have a toaster?” I asked, horrified.

  He changed directions and headed to the toasters.

  We swung by my apartment and grabbed some provisions (most especially coffee) and then went to Eddie’s house.

  He unloaded the new appliances while I unpacked the groceries. Then I called Famous and ordered a large pizza, one half with everything for Eddie, the other half triple cheese and mushroom for me. Eddie heard me order while plugging in the coffee maker and his brows went up.

  “It’s all about the cheese,” I explained.

  His eyes drifted down my body and his lips twitched as he flipped open the instruction book to the coffee maker. I wasn’t certain what that meant but I was certain I wasn’t going to ask.

  I left him to deal with things with cords, went into the living room, sat on the sofa and phoned Mom.

  “Hey Mom,” I said when she answered.

  “Hey doll face,” she replied

  “How are you getting on?” I asked.

  Eddie wandered in, sat down and turned on the TV. The remote went into hyperdrive as he flipped through channels.

  “Tex and me are drinking hooch,” Mom answered.

  I was leaning back but I shot bolt upright when I heard her answer.

  “You can’t drink hooch on your meds!” I yelled.

  Eddie’s eyes came to me.

  “Just a little drinkie poo,” Mom said.

  “Stop drinking,” I ordered.

  Her voice came to me, ignoring my order, and she was whispering, “I think Tex kinda likes me.” Then she giggled.

  Dear Lord.

  “Tex is a nut,” I told her.

  “He’s sweet.”

  Tex?

  Sweet?

  “You think Tex is sweet? How much hooch have you had?”

  “Oh! Gotta go, Tex found his laser lights and we’re gonna play with the kitties. Love you.” Then she disconnected.

  I flipped the phone shut and stared at it.

  “I think Tex and Mom are on the weirdest date in the history of the world.”

  Eddie put down the remote, took the phone out of my hand, slid it on the coffee table next to the remote and then put his hands under my pits and dragged me across the couch, twisting me so I was pull
ed over his lap. He pushed me back and he slid out from under me, to his side and came up on his elbow. He rolled me to my side at the same time he leaned forward, pressing into me, grabbed the remote, his eyes went back to the TV and, with his arm still around me, he started flipping through channels again.

  It was a complicated maneuver but he pulled it off effortlessly and completely ignored my comment.

  I twisted my head around to look at him.

  “Eddie, did you hear me? I think something’s happening between Mom and Tex.”

  Eddie’s eyes didn’t move from the TV.

  “Good. Gettin’ some would improve Tex’s disposition and I figure it’s been awhile for your Mom too.”

  Eek!

  “You did not just say that,” I said.

  Eddie found a baseball game and tossed the remote on the table. He looked down at me. “She’s a woman, she’s pretty. He’s a man, he’s gonna notice.”

  “He’s not a man, he’s a crazy person. He’s got a shotgun and I think he has grenades.”

  “From what I hear, tear gas too,” Eddie’s eyes went back to the TV.

  That was it.

  I pushed away and got up.

  “That’s it, we’re going over… oof!”

  Eddie tagged me around the middle, pulled me back on the sofa and rolled over me.

  “You got enough to worry about, Chiquita. You don’t have to make shit up.”

  My eyes widened.

  “I’m not making shit up!”

  His eyes got warm, his eyelids lowered, his hands started roaming and I had other things to worry about. His mouth started roaming with his hands and I stopped worrying altogether.

  “This works out, Tex’ll be your stepdad,” Eddie said against my neck, his hand going under my shirt.

  I thought about that. It actually wasn’t a bad thought. Tex was a nut but he was a good guy.

  “He’d be a good stepdad,” I said into Eddie’s ear and I slid my hands in his shirt.

  Eddie looked down at me.

  “Shit works out in weird ways.” He touched his lips to mine then he lifted his head and said, “Two months ago, I couldn’t get you to look at me, now you’re livin’ with me.”

  “Temporarily,” I said.

  “Whatever, just as long as I get to make you sweet on a routine basis, I don’t give a fuck.”