Another Saturday Night and I Ain't Got No Body (A Page Turners Novel) (11 page)

The women opened the door to a tall, thin man holding a single red rose. He was that gawky kind of tall like he hadn’t quite grown into his body yet. He wore round tortoise shell glasses and a thick shock of black hair fell across his forehead. He was really quite good-looking in a Clark Kent-cute-nerdy guy kind of way.

His eyes lit up, and he smiled widely, introducing himself as he held the rose out to…Maggie.

Maggie smiled back, obviously taken in with his charm and boyish good looks. She actually started to reach for the rose before she dropped her hand.

“Uh, sorry,” Maggie said and backed away. “Party foul. She’s actually your date.” 

His eyes shifted to Sunny, and he quickly tried to mask his disappointment.

“Sorry,” he fumbled, his smooth entrance deflating like a balloon. “This is for you, I guess.”  He extended the rose to her, and Sunny watched a flush, as red as the rose, move up his neck and into his cheeks.

“It’s okay. I know it’s hard to get excited about the hamburger you ordered when you just saw a filet mignon go by,” she said, trying to lighten the situation.

“Hmm,” he said, distractedly
.
He smiled as his gaze drifted back to Maggie. “What?”

“Nothing. Come on in.” 
Stupid wine made me think I was a comedian there for a minute.

The women moved aside, and they both did a quick tush-check as he headed for the sofa to take a seat. Maggie wiggled her eyebrows and grinned at Sunny.

“Sorry about the confusion,” Sunny explained. “I’m Sunny Vale, and this is my friend, Maggie. We’re both in a book club with Edna. Maggie just stopped by to drop off a dish.” Sunny hoped her explanation for Maggie’s presence sounded plausible. It was easier than telling him her friend just came over to check him out before their date
.

“Nice to meet you both,” Jeremy answered sincerely.

Maggie sat on the loveseat across from Jeremy and crossed her legs. “So Jeremy, tell us about what you do,” she said, her litigating attorney voice coming through.

Sunny set the rose on the coffee table and perched on the arm of the loveseat next to Maggie, happy to let her friend take the lead in the conversation
.

“Well, my company tests popular video games and designs—”

“Uh, excuse me,” Sunny said as she jumped up and ran for the back door. She had just heard the unmistakable sound every dog owner recog
nizes as the 'pre-hurl heaving'.

Beau stood in the laundry room. He looked helplessly up at her, then lurched toward the back door. Sunny ran past him and flung the back screen door open while she urged him to please make it outside.

“C’mon Beau. You can make it, boy,” she cooed.

The poor dog gingerly stepped through the door and made it the few steps to the grass.

“Everything okay?” Jake stood up from where he knelt in Walter’s garden, a pile of weeds in the drive next to him. He came toward her, brushing dirt from his hands, but Sunny’s attention was focused on poor Beau. His front legs were locked stiff, and his head was bent to the ground as his stomach pulsed with the rhythm of horrible spasmodic jerks.

With one final heave, Beau spewed forth a giant filmy pile of half-chewed dog food, pieces of napkin, and a ball of black fabric.

“What the heck is that?”  Jake moved closer as they both peered in disgust at the pile, their heads tilted in unison as they tried to figure out what delicacy the giant dog had decided to snack on.

Jake started to chuckle as the dawning realization of what the dog had ingested hit them at the same time.

“Is that a thong?”  Jake asked, now full on laughing.

“Oh Beau, how could you
?
Those cost eighteen dollars a pair at Victoria’s Secret!”  Sunny cried, not looking at Jake as humiliation heated her cheeks.

“That gives a whole new meaning to edible underwear.” Jake doubled over with laughter at his own joke.

“Real nice,” Sunny said. A smile played at the edge of her lips.
It was kind of funny.

Beau looked up at her, tail wagging, his momentary gastric distress quickly forgotten. Then he bent his head to the mass of vomit, as only dogs do, ready to dig in and try it again.

“Aaaagh
!
No!” she shrieked. “Go on! Get away from that!” Sunny pushed Beau away and looked to Jake for help.

His eyes were shining with laughter as he reached for Beau’s collar. “I’ll hold him. Go grab a bag.”

Sunny ran back into the laundry room and grabbed a grocery sack from the box on the shelf above the washer.

“I’ll just be another second,” she called to Maggie, who had moved to sit next to Jeremy on the sofa, their heads bent toward each other, deep in conversation.

In the back yard, Sunny used the Pooper Scooper to deposit the pile of hurl into the bag, tied the ends closed, and deposited it into the trash bin next to the house.

“Decided you didn’t want to save those?” Jake smirked.

“I’m good, thanks.” She smiled back, good-naturedly and bent to pet Beau’s fuzzy head. “You feel better, boy?”

“So, you look really nice.” Jake’s eyes moved appraisingly up and down her body. Sunny tried to control the funny little shiver that ran through her as he did. “When’s the grandson show up?”

“He’s inside now being overwhelmed by the essence of Maggie.”

“Aaahh. What does this one do?”

“He plays video games, I think,” she answered sheepishly.

“What? For a living?”

“Well, I don’t exactly know yet. It’s something like that. I’ll find out when I actually go on the date with him.”

“Well, by all means, you better get in there then. He may have already plugged in his Xbox while he was waiting.”

“Oh, shut up.”  She swatted at him playfully. “I don’t know if I should go now. I feel bad leaving Beau alone. What if he…you know…”

“Upchucks another pair of panties?”  Jake smirked. “Do you think he ate the matching bra?"

“Oh no!” Sunny gasped, and grabbed Beau’s mouth, wrenching it open to peer down his throat. “You didn’t…hey, wait a minute.” Her eyes cut suspiciously back to Jake. “How’d you know there was a matching bra?”

“There always is, babe.” He smirked again and reached for Beau’s collar. “Go out on your date. Beau can hang with me tonight. We’ll lie on the sofa and watch Airbud or something.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. We’ll be fine. Come over and get him when you get home from your night out with Mr. Atari. We’ll try to save you some popcorn.”  He said the last sentence over his shoulder as he walked toward Walter’s screen door. Her loyal dog followed, looking up at him in adoration, as if Jake carried a piece of bacon in his pocket.

The sound of Maggie’s laughter drew her back to the task at hand, and Sunny sighed before going into the kitchen to wash her hands.

“Crisis averted.” Sunny smoothed down her curls as she stepped into the living room. “Sorry that took so long. Beau had a little digestive moment. He’s going to spend the evening chilling at the neighbor’s house.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Jeremy said, dragging his eyes from Maggie’s smiling face. “We were having a great time talking. Maggie was just telling me all about her midnight–”

“You guys better get going,” Maggie interrupted, suddenly on her feet. “Sunny doesn’t want to hear all that boring stuff.”  She looked at Jeremy, her eyes imploring him to keep his mouth shut.

Hmmm. Now what was this all about?

He looked at her quizzically and then turned to Sunny. “Yes, we probably should get going.”  He glanced at his watch. “We don’t want to be late.”

“Late for what?” she asked, curious as to where he was taking her.

“Oh, it’s a surprise,” Jeremy said as he pulled the front door open.

Maggie handed Sunny her purse. “You’re going to love it.” Why she was wearing a devilish grin, Sunny wasn’t sure.

“Maggie, it was a pleasure meeting you,” Jeremy said, as he looked over Sunny’s shoulder.

“The pleasure was all mine,” Maggie said. Sunny whipped her head back to look at her friend, but Maggie was smiling openly at Jeremy.

“Hmm. Hmm.” Sunny cleared her throat, and Maggie looked guiltily away. “Sorry,” she mouthed as Jeremy stepped through the door.

“Have fun, you two,” she said as she pushed them out the door. “I’ll clean up and let myself out.”

That was weird
. Sunny crossed the lawn, this time on the lookout for any dog-turd land-mines.

Jeremy was holding open the door of a white Toyota 4Runner. Sunny climbed in and admired the tan leather interior. She appreciated the neatness of his car, no fast food bags or crumpled napkins on the floor, as he slid into the driver’s seat and turned on the ignition.

“I like big butts and I cannot lie…” suddenly blared from the sound system, and Jeremy grabbed for the knob to turn the volume down.

“Sorry, forgot to turn that down.” He was suddenly very focused on the steering wheel as he pulled away from the curb. Sunny looked out the window, so he wouldn’t see her silently cracking up.

They made small talk about the weather and Mabel and Edna, and he asked a surprising amount of questions about Maggie. Sunny couldn’t tell if he was just making conversation or if he was actually taking an interest in her friend. She didn’t know how to throw Maggie’s divorce into the conversation or her current distrust of the male species. If he only knew that Maggie had sworn off men for the next decade, he might be more willing to settle for the ordinary girl currently riding in the seat next to him.

They drove for about fifteen minutes, crossing through the edge of town and into a middle class neighborhood. The housing development was fairly new, with all the houses the same style in various shades of taupe, beige, and ecru trimmed in sage, tan, or mustard tones. They pulled up in front of one such beige home with several cars in the driveway and on the street in front of the house.

“We’re here. This is my buddy, John’s house,” Jeremy said.

“So, are we going to a party or something?”

“Something like that,” he answered mysteriously and climbed from the car. He hurried around the hood to open the door for Sunny while she collected her purse. “C’mon, it’s gonna be really fun, and I guarantee you have never done anything like this before.” 

Sunny had visions of stepping into a house shrouded in darkness where a séance was being performed, or maybe they were going to a naughty nightie party and he expected her to model for him. She warily approached the house as he led her to the front door and let himself in, hollering, “Hey, John, we’re here!”

They stood in a typical tri-level house, in a non-descript beige room with a brown sofa, a brown recliner, and a large screen plasma TV on the wall. The absence of decorative knick-knacks led Sunny to believe this was a single man’s home. The living room opened into a kitchen area where she could see several pizza boxes and an open cooler sitting on the floor, full of ice and beer. Several ice cubes lay on the floor surrounding the cooler, dissolving slowly into random liquid pools.

Two sets of stairs were visible. The one going up was stacked with little piles of assorted books, shoes, and dirty socks waiting for the next person walking up the stairs to grab and take up with them. One lone track shoe dangled precariously off the edge of the step, barely hiding what might have been a sandwich.

The stairs leading into the basement were free of clutter. A framed poster of the Pink Floyd prism hung on the wall, and a significantly large bulldog lay across the top of the stairs, as if guarding the treasures that lay in the dungeons below. The dog watched them, moving only its eyes, as though lifting its head would take too much effort.

“Get your ass down here
!
We’re just starting,” a deep voice bellowed from the basement, and the dog did lift its head and utter a small whine. “And bring the lovely Priscilla, would ya?”  His request was followed by male laughter emanating from several voices.

“Be right there,” Jeremy yelled down as he headed into the kitchen. “Sunny, you want pepperoni, cheese, or supreme?”

“Um, pepperoni, I guess.” 
What the heck am I doing here?
Who was this John
,
and why does he think my name is Priscilla?

“Beer or Coke?”

“Got any diet?”  Sunny still had enough wits about her to ask.

Jeremy had two paper plates of pizza stacked on top of each other and a bottle of beer jammed under his arm pit as he dug into the cooler. He extracted a Diet Coke, dislodging several more ice cubes that plummeted to the floor.

“Here, can you hold these?” He handed her the can of soda and the plates of pizza.

He stepped over the dog, took two steps down, turned and hoisted the fat pooch into his arms before he started down the stairs. “C’mon,” he said over his shoulder.

Well, at least the mystery of the lovely Priscilla was solved. But what was she doing following some guy she didn’t even know into a basement filled with male laughter? All she knew of the owner was he had big feet, didn’t decorate or care about water stains on his hardwood floor, and fed his dog frequently. All for the allure of pepperoni pizza, and because Edna knew somebody with a grandson.