Getting Lucky (The Marilyns) (11 page)

He looked down at the ring. “Because one eternity with Lucky wouldn’t be enough.”

One honking sob erupted from Mama. “God damn it, I hate you. That’s the sweetest damn thing I’ve ever heard. Now I’m going to cry like a baby, my mascara’s going to run into my contact lens, I’ll have to take them out, and the only glasses I brought don’t have rhinestones. I hate you.”

She honked some more, pulled a hanky out of her cleavage, and mopped her face.

“So you’ll help me?” He closed the lid and slid the box back into his pocket. One day, he hoped Lucky would accept it and him.

“Honey, I’ve been helping you out since you first walked into Voodoo Gumbos.” She swiped at her eyes. “If you’ll remember, I spilled an entire pitcher of bloody marys down the front of Ricky’s pants that night. In fact, I managed to spill something on him every time I saw him.” Mama smiled to herself.

“Wait a minute. So at the funeral … that water on his closed casket—”

“Holy water I stole from the Catholic Church. I wanted to make sure that if he was a vampire, he’d stay dead. Betts confiscated my wooden stake.” She shook her head. “Let me tell you, that holy water was a pain in the ass. I had to smuggle it in on account of those nondenominational churches don’t have any. That’s why I like the Catholic Church—it’s one-stop shopping. You get holy water, Eucharist, wine, and forgiveness. The last one’s the best because you get to relive your sins.” She pulled an iPhone out of her cleavage. “Now I got this new app called iSin, and it helps me keep track of my wrongdoing. It even assigns possible penance so I can offer suggestions if the priest gets confused. Plus, I can look back at my penance log and compare weeks. I think it’s important to stay fresh and keep upping my game. There’s always room for improvement. If the priest doesn’t add at least one more Hail Mary that week, I hurry up and have some impure thoughts, and that puts me right over the top.”

“I don’t think that’s the point…” He gave up. Mama lived in her own world, and sometimes she popped back to earth when she needed supplies. “Lucky seems to like the girls.”

Mama stuffed the hanky back into her cleavage. “Are you blind? She loves them, and they love her. Even Mandy, who I bumped into on the way in here, didn’t have too many bad things to say about Lucky. It’s only been a couple of days, and Lucky’s talking about the future. She’s planning. That’s the first glimpse of the old Lucky that I’ve seen in a very long time.”

The slightest amount of hope eased its way into his heart. Lucky was planning for the future … it was a start.

“Stop lurking in the background. Now is your time to shine.” Mama pointed to the window. “Go outside and lay one on her.”

Will glanced out the window. Vivi was blowing the bubbles while Lucky and Dawnie chased them. Somehow, Lucky had conned Mandy into playing her guitar. They were his ladies … all of them. He might not be ready to “lay one on her,” but he was certainly ready to go out into the sunshine and enjoy the day with them.

Lucky was planning her future. He aimed to be in it … forever.

“I call the family meeting to order.” Will pulled a gavel out of his back pocket and struck it against the giant coffee table in the living room. Lucky shook her head. He had a gavel … for a family meeting. What was next? Bylaws and dues?

She turned to Viviane, who was sitting next to her on one of the enormous blue velvet sofas that sat in front of the fireplace. Velvet sofas … they were impractical, uncomfortable, and reminded her of the inside of a coffin. Why had she let Ricky talk her into them? “Do we like the gavel or do we want to hit him with it?”

“What?” Will snatched up the gavel and stuck it back in his pocket. “The gavel stays. It equals power.”

Viviane and Dawnie nodded and said in unison, “Hit him with it.”

Will ignored their comment and kept going. “As of 5:06 p.m. this afternoon, we are now the newest reality TV stars to hit Bravo. The contract has been signed, and we are a go.” He glanced at Lucky, and she had the distinct feeling that if he’d still had the gavel out, he’d have used it to point to her.

“They gave into your demands.” He sounded very proud of himself.

“What demands?” Mandy tried her best bitchy nonchalance, but she was too interested to pull it off.

“We get to decide where and when the cameras roll. Also, I got her twenty percent over the astronomical figure we discussed.” He winked at Lucky.

“What about my money?” Mandy glared at Will. If glaring were a marketable skill, she’d be a billionaire.

“You get a salary, which will go directly into a trust until you turn twenty-one or thirty-five. I can’t decide, but with all your hostility lately, I’m leaning toward seventy-five.”

Mama Cherie snorted as she walked into the living room carrying a plate of chocolate chip cookies. “Seventy-five … don’t make me beat you with that gavel.”

As it turned out, Mama really was the teenager whisperer. Ten seconds after meeting, she and Mandy had been sharing clothes. Considering Mama’s penchant for Lycra and sequins, this wasn’t such a good idea.

“Why would they agree to all of Lucky’s demands?” Mama put down the cookies on the coffee table, pulled out her iPhone, snapped Will’s photo, and thumb-typed like a demon.

Mandy’s phone buzzed, so she pried it out of her back pocket. As soon as she saw the screen, she and Mama snickered. She pulled a chair up next to Mandy and sat down.

Lucky decided that it was best not to ask.

“They want her bad.” Will, still very proud of himself, picked a nonexistent piece of lint off his shirt. “I might have hinted that there are some family bombshells that will be dropped.”

“What?” Lucky sat up. “Are you crazy?”

Her plan to make
Rock-My World Too
the most boring reality show in history didn’t involve family or any other kind of bombshells.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t elaborate on the”—he did finger quotes—“family bombshells. As far as I’m concerned, a UPS delivery is a family bombshell. I mean, it might be your Amazon order or it might be something you got from Lands End.”

“Sneaky. I like that about you.” It was out before Lucky had time to sensor it. Will was sneaky and he’d helped his dear brother get away with some pretty awful things. But he’d apologized and meant it. Lucky took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.

“Those cookies smell good.” Will took two cookies, set them on a napkin on the coffee table, and sat back in his chair. “Filming starts in four weeks. There are several details we need to discuss.” He reached for the giant, rolled-up piece of paper next to him. He unfurled it. They were blueprints of the house.

“Where did you get those?” The last time Lucky had seen blueprints of her house was when she and Will had gone over them as the house was being built. Will had been the one she’d counted on back then because Ricky had been too busy.

“I had a copy in my office. You never know when you’ll need blueprints.” He used the set of stone drink coasters to hold down the corners. “Okay, before we decide where the cameras go, we need to talk about the children.”

All eyes turned to him.

“Should Viviane, Mandy, and Dawnie be a part of the show?” He asked the room at large, but he was looking directly at Lucky.

This was a discussion that parents would have. It felt both uncomfortable and absolutely right.

Knowing the price of fame, she had some pretty strong opinions on the matter. She was about to become the most hated person in the room.

“No.” Lucky leaned back and crossed her legs. “I don’t think we should film their faces, and I don’t think we should talk about them on camera.” No one knew how much reality TV hurt more than Lucky. These kids needed a shot at a normal life, and Lucky wanted them to have it.

“Of course you want all the fame for yourself.” It was Mandy, her eyes a blazing blue just like her father’s. “What a bitch.” She rolled her eyes.

Mama looked from Lucky to Mandy and back again. Her thumbs were a blur of movement over the phone. Mandy’s phone buzzed, she glanced at the screen, her eyes went huge, and she cleared her throat. “Sorry about the bitch comment.” She attempted a smile.

Lucky nodded to Mama, who returned the nod and added a smile. “The reason I don’t think the children should be a part of the show is that it makes them a target. Not only will people befriend you thinking they can get something from you, but the general public will believe that they know you. It’s risky and intrusive and creepy.”

Mandy’s back went rigid. “But—”

“Since Mandy isn’t a child, I think she should get to decide whether or not to be on the show,” Lucky finished, ignoring Mandy. Sixteen wasn’t quite adulthood, but it wasn’t childhood either.

“Um.” Mandy cleared her throat as her hackles went down. “I’d like to do it.”

“Come on.” Viviane was on her feet. “She gets to do it, but I don’t. She’s only five years older than me.”

“That’s not fair.” Dawnie stroked Cuddles, who’d fallen asleep in her lap.

Lucky turned to them. “Ladies, I understand that you’re upset, but I want y’all to have a semi-normal childhood. Mandy is old enough to drive, therefore, she is old enough to make some of her own decisions.”

“She doesn’t have a license.” Viviane laughed. “Age doesn’t come with wisdom. She doesn’t know how.”

“Shut up, dumbass,” Mandy snarled as only a teenager could.

“Okay, I ignored the bitch comment earlier, but now I can’t let that go. No cussing until you’re old enough to vote.” Lucky looked directly at Mandy. “And don’t call your sister a dumbass …
ever
.”

Viviane sighed loudly. “You won’t win on the cussing. She’s got a thing about it.”

“You can’t tell me what to do. You’re not my mother,” Mandy said. It was more a challenge than a rant.

“You are absolutely right, I’m not your mother.” Lucky remained calm. “But I won’t teach you how to drive unless that snotty mouth goes away.”

“I don’t care … what…?” There was a flicker of interest in Mandy’s otherwise bored expression. “Teach me to drive?”

Mama sat up all interested. “Lucky is an awesome driving instructor. She taught me this evasive maneuver thing so that when someone’s chasing me, I can tap their car and make them crash. It’s awesome. I’ve used it four times, and it worked every time.”

“Who better to teach you to drive than a former demolition derby champion.” Lucky smiled proudly.

“I’d forgotten you drove in the derby in high school. What did they call you?” Mama Cherie sat back in her chair. “Wrecking Ball. That’s what they called you. Good times.”

“I know. Maybe I’ll get back into it.” Spicewood, the next town over, had a demolition derby. She’d given it up because Ricky hadn’t wanted her to do it. Screw him. She smiled to herself. Lots of people had. That should have made her mad, but now it bordered on funny. Maybe they should revisit the app idea with the Angry Bird Bimbos flying through the windows.

“Let’s do it together. We could have a cool name like The Busty Babes or Two Hot Mamas.” Mama Cherie’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “I’ll design our uniforms. I’m thinking something in hot pink leather with purple sequins and lots of feathers.”

A mental image of a Vegas Showgirl who’d been rolled in Pepto Bismol and peacock feathers popped into Lucky’s head. She shot Will a help-me look, but he only smiled. “Um … okay.”

“Oh, wait.” Mama was getting all revved up now. “We could be the Mad Marilyns. You could wear your white dress and Marilyn Monroe wig, and I’ll do the same.”

Mama was referring to the group Lucky and her two best friends had formed in high school, The Marilyns. Occasionally they all dressed as Marilyn Monroe and raised some hell.

“Sorry, no can do. The Marilyns wouldn’t approve of using their namesake as a demolition derby princess. Try again.”

Mama opened her mouth, but Will cut her off. “Back to the family meeting. I agree that the younger members of the family shouldn’t be on camera.”

“Hey.” Viviane jumped to her feet. “That’s not fair.”

“I propose we give it a three-month trial period. If we find that the show isn’t intrusive, we’ll revisit the issue at that time.” His tone was final.

Viviane folded her arms and seethed, but she didn’t say another word.

“Dawnie, do you agree?”

“Can Cuddles be on TV?” Her tone was all shrewd businesswoman.

“Absolutely,” said Will.

“Okay.” Dawnie finger-combed Cuddles’s fur.

As long as the puppy was on TV, the world was a wonderful place.

Will pulled out the gavel and held it poised to bang on the table. “Do I have a motion to approve the three-month waiting period?”

“Seriously? Parliamentary procedure? Don’t you think they’re a little young?” Lucky knew he was uptight and formal, but this was over-the-top.

“I think he’s such a tight ass on account of the tighty-whities he wears.” Mama sucked on the inside of her cheek and then clicked her tongue. “You should try boxers. They let stuff move around.”

“Stop talking.” Mandy clapped her hands over her ears.

“I’m gonna throw up.” Viviane made some gagging noises, but her arms stayed crossed.

Dawnie continued to finger-comb Cuddles’s hair.

Will banged the gavel. “We need a motion for the three-month waiting period.” The gavel hung in midair like the ball in Times Square on New Year’s Eve. It was more power than any one man deserved.

Quick as a snake striking, Lucky grabbed the gavel, broke the handle off, and put it behind her back. “Moving on.”

“Wait a minute.” Will’s eye went huge. “You can’t do that.”

“Just did.” Lucky smiled. “Too late.”

“Wow.” Viviane forgot she was pissed and dropped her arms. “That was cool.”

“I have my moments.” Lucky leaned forward and traced the front door on the house plans. “On to camera placement.”

Will leaned forward too. “It was kinda cool.”

His eyes landed on her cleavage showing in the V of her tee shirt. She stuck them out just to be sure he was looking. He cleared his throat, shook his head, and murmured something that sounded like counting—one, two, three. His eyes moved to the blueprints.