So. Long(198)

“Is that right?” The humor of Delores wanting to know what I’ve got tucked into my jeans takes me by surprise, and a chuckle bursts out.

I flick open the button at my waistband. “You can assure her, I’m well equipped for whatever task may be necessary.”

“Don’t bother. I’ve seen it; I don’t need to see it again.”

Her mouth says she doesn’t want it, but her eyes can’t seem to leave my open fly. I zip up and push the button back through the hole. “You change your mind, just let me know. Until then, what does sweet Delores need?”

Lou turns to leave, calling over her shoulder, “She wants some help with a plumbing problem and won’t let me call an actual plumber. So, if you wouldn’t mind bringing some tools over and helping her out, she’d appreciate it.”

Plumbing. Tools. Lou.

God bless Delores Dubois.

Back at the table, I settle in to finish my sandwich.

Nan pats my arm. “So, what did Loula Mae want?”

Trudi and the crew turn their attention to me.

Fuck.

I’m an actor. Okay, so act damn it. Be nonchalant. “Apparently Delores has a plumbing issue she needs help with. I’ll go over after lunch.”

Trudi perks up. “Oh, that’ll be perfect. We can get footage of you doing some manly work, helping out your neighbor. That’ll be great stuff. You think this Delores lady will sign a release?”

My stomach plummets to my ass.

Pops pipes up. “Oh, I bet Delores would be tickled.”

I throw him a look. He shrugs.

I shake my head. “No, y’all can stay here and interview Nan and Pops while I’m next door. It probably won’t take long. Delores is a live-wire, you may not even be able to use the footage. No telling what’ll come out of that mouth.”

Trudi’s eyes practically sparkle. “Even better. I’ll head over after I eat and see if I can get her to sign a waiver.”

Fucking great. Just what I need, them getting Loula Mae on camera. Who knows what she’ll say, or do? Especially after her little suck or fuck speech earlier. It’s obvious she’s still pissed.

What the fuck was I thinking? I can’t believe I let Bob talk me into doing this Celebrity Homecoming show. Managers. What the hell do they know anyway?

This was supposed to be easy. A reality show to help people see the real me and increase my fan base. A few weeks at home, visiting old hangouts, talking with some high school buddies, seeing my elementary teachers. Maybe even checking in on a couple of old girlfriends. Let them meet the family, see where I came from.

Lou wasn’t supposed to be in town. She was safely in California when I signed that fucking contract. Maybe she’s not staying long. That would be best.

Yeah, Fucktard. That’s what’s best, but it’s the last thing you want.

Trudi all but inhales her lunch and darts out the door before I can talk her out of this.

Fuck. My. Life.

I gather some tools. By the time I’m ready to head across the field, she’s back, all happy and waiving a piece of paper.

“I got it! She’s agreed to let us film. You guys need to prepare your gear though, there’s a lot of water over there.”

Well, hell. Maybe I’ll get lucky and Lou will be gone. Running errands, getting her nails done, picking out lipstick…well, probably not nails or lipstick, but who knows? She could be gone, off doing something. Anything.

When we arrive next door, Delores calls to Lou from inside her downstairs storage room. The guys scramble to shoulder their cameras and follow me into the depths of the flooding space.

I prop my hands at my sides and shake my head.

Delores stands on a death trap of a rusted-out ladder, banging on a pipe with a wrench.

Lou’s nowhere in sight.

Delores wipes her eyes with the back of her arm. Looking up to the ceiling, she yells, “We’re leaking like the Titanic down here. Damn that dick. When’s he going to get here?”

That dick?

I can’t help but smile. “The Dick has arrived.”

Delores grins as she turns. “What the hell took you so long?”

I cup my crotch. “Had to pack my dick. It’s big, so, you know, that takes a while.”

Delores laughs. “You cocky bastard, get over here and fix this mess.”

I give her a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

An hour and a half, two beers, and about a thousand curse words later, I step off the ladder.

Lou pokes her head around the corner. “Why’s it still so wet?”

Delores looks to me and back to Lou.

I answer, “We just got the water stopped. You’re welcome.”

Lou blows a stray curl from her face. “Why didn’t you cut the water supply to the house?”