“Kendall!” A loud, rather abrasive woman’s voice hails me from the front. I spot Aunt Jackie waving and head on over.
“Guess who I talked to today?” she asks, offering me a big rocking hug. Her perfume and hairspray launch an assault on my senses and for a moment I lose the ability to breathe.
“Pen?” I haven’t seen Pennington since our botched double date. I can’t believe he had the nerve to bumble his way to second base while in a public establishment. Of course, I had the nerve to molest Cruise’s hand while on a date with Pen, so I guess we’re sort of even.
“No, silly.” She flicks her wrist, and her diamond-encrusted tennis bracelet threatens to fall off. There’s something about the way Jackie presents herself that scares me a little. Maybe it’s her obvious fake lashes. I’ve been known to don falsies on occasion myself, but these in particular look like she plucked the wings off some poor unsuspecting butterfly, way too transvestite for this early in the afternoon. Or maybe it’s the heavily penciled eyebrows that give her that perpetual look of surprise, or the thick black outline of her lips—a look I thought was canceled along with Baywatch. Nevertheless, the fifties are calling. They want their go-go boots back. “I talked to your mother!” She beams. “You’ll never guess what she said.”
“She’s getting married.” If that’s the case, I think I’ll skip the nuptials and cheer from the sidelines once the dissolution is on the horizon. A heavy feeling overcomes me at the thought of her racking up another tally mark in divorce court. I hate the thought of Mom getting her heart broken once again.
“Bitter much?” She puts in her order, and I wave at Ally. “Make it two!” She turns back to me. “I’ve got this,” she whispers without even asking if I wanted a double espresso. But I’m more than thankful. At the rate I’ve been mismanaging my anemic funds, I might have to familiarize myself with the local soup kitchen in less than a week.
“So what’s the big secret?”
“The girl is lonely.” Jackie makes a face. “She got that stewardess friend of hers to get her a ticket. So she’ll be out for a visit.” She punctuates it by tapping me on the nose.
Lauren breezes in and trots on over. Her dark hair is whisked across her forehead and her mascara looks smudged as if she’s been crying.
“I’m so glad you came.” She pulls me in by the elbow. “We desperately need to talk.”
“Um…” I look back at Aunt Jackie. “It’ll just be a minute.”
“Take all the time you need. I’m leaving,” Jackie insists. “She’ll be coming out in a couple weeks, so you might want to make arrangements.”
“Isn’t she staying with you?” I ask as she heads toward the door.
“I’m having the house painted. She’s all yours, hon. We’ll do dinner!” And with that, she walks out into the snow-covered world. A younger man with a goatee takes her by the waist and gets her settled in the passenger seat of his dated Monte Carlo.
“Who the hell is that guy?” I whisper mostly to myself. “And who paints their house during blizzard conditions with no end in sight?”
“Who cares?” Lauren pulls me off to the corner. “I think my boyfriend might be seeing someone else.” It speeds out of her. Her glassy eyes blink in quick succession as her cheeks explode a bright shade of pink.
Ally comes up from behind. “That two-timing asshole!”
“Shh!” She hops up and down in a heightened state of panic. “He’s on his way.”
“Perfect,” Ally snipes. “I feel an accident coming on with a boiling pot of coffee. We’ll fry his balls and see how far that gets him with the ladies.”
“No!” Lauren darts a finger in the air. “No frying of the balls. Get back behind that counter. I’m going to have Kendall hit on him and see how he responds.”
“What?” Now it’s my turn to jump out of my skin. “I’m not hitting on anybody. I don’t even know how to do it.” True story. I tried to “hit” on Cruise, and now I’m sleeping naked next to him in hopes to trick him into liking me. God only knows where I’ll end up with her boyfriend.
“Pretend he’s Cruise and flirt,” Lauren instructs. “Just be your cute little self, and he’ll fall all over you.” Her face crumbles at the thought.
“Then what?” I clutch at my chest in horror. I suspect third degree burns will be called for in the event he falls for our poorly hatched plan.