literal leigh 05 - joyful leigh (12 page)

BOOK: literal leigh 05 - joyful leigh
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“She’s right, Leigh. They aren’t going to understand. Not real witchcraft. Not real magic,” Hunter said and then he rattled the handcuffs. “Could someone unlock these cuffs now, please?”

Esmeralda took a more serious tone. “Listen, I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I’ve been around a long time. I’ve seen people like those many times before. Sure, things have come a long way. More people are accepted and included in society now. The thing is, people are afraid of what they don’t understand. And for all of the scary movies they watch and paranormal books they read to scare the living shit out of themselves, they’ve shown that they don’t
want
to understand the paranormal, the supernatural. It’s easier for them to be afraid of it, to reject it, and chase it away from their lives. Witches like us get caught in the crossfire. We get found out and then blamed for everything they’ve screwed up. Next thing you know, the ‘burn ‘em at the stake’ crowd is chasing us down.”

“I suppose you’re right,” I admitted. I became lost in my thoughts about the neighborhood watch.

Kelly shut the window and came back to the bed. “I hate to say it, too. But yeah, she’s right. Still, wouldn’t you love to see the looks on their faces if we did bring them in for a séance? It would be a riot, a fucking riot!” She looked at Hunter, who was wearing only a jock strap. “Hey? Where’s
my
chubby? You got one for Esmeralda and Leigh. I’m feeling cheated.” She put her hands on Hunter’s thighs. “Let’s play snake charmer.”

I snapped out of my deep thought and realized what Kelly was up to. “Whoa! Let’s not!”

“Oh, you know I’m just kidding around, Leigh,” Kelly said. I know she was really kidding, but at the same time I could tell by the way she looked at Hunter that he was exactly her type. Kelly surprised me with a rare moment of sincerity. “You know something, Leigh? You are really so lucky, in soooo many ways with this one. And you two are just the perfect couple. I really mean it.” She gave me a second surprise when she hugged me.

“I hate to hex and run, but I believe we have a patient named Luke waiting for us, Kelly. I’m just waiting for doctor’s orders.” Esmeralda winked.

Kelly was just releasing her embrace. She spoke softly in my ear, “Tonight I get to be in charge. I’m so excited! It’ll be a big difference from last week when Marie and Esmeralda made Luke and me their prisoners.”

“I—I don’t even know what to say to that. Um…good luck? Have fun!” I whispered back. I felt my face burning with a hot blush. Kelly took Esmeralda’s hand and they were gone in a cloud of smoke.

“Well, well. Kelly certainly is exploring her sexuality these days,” I said to Hunter.

“Hey! What about these handcuffs?”

“What about them? You look just fine the way you are,” I said with a smile as I climbed onto the bed. “Now, about those involuntary reflexes you speak of.” Several minutes of tortuous teasing later, I had an idea. Just for the fun of it, I decided that I’d tease Hunter, but nothing more until both of us were burning with hunger for each other. It could be a few days, maybe a week at most. I had a hunch that it could lead to some unforgettable lovemaking.

 

Chapter Fifteen

A New Look

Our Thanksgiving. It had become such an important thing to me. Not only was it a chance to show off some of my lackluster cooking skills, but it was a chance for both Hunter’s family and my family to see us living in our new home, in love, and getting ready to get married. It was a chance for our parents to all mingle and get to know each other. To me, the stakes were high and the pressure was on. All of my own making, of course.

I mentioned there could be an issue. As much as we all like to think that we aren’t duty bound to some traditional thinking, it has a way of creeping up. Based on my age, I’m a so-called millennial. I still don’t know what that is supposed to mean, really. I know one thing, though. From looking at our current society, the old traditional rules just don’t apply to us when it comes to marriage. Why then did it matter that culturally, ethnically I was Jewish? I was engaged to be married to a non-Jew. And while marriage in any culture is a big deal, jumping ship to an entirely different culture is traditionally an even bigger deal. I expected that sort of
big deal
to be made out of this. Was I really worried about my family’s reaction? Or was it something inside of me? You know, a little voice in my head that told me that a girl like me should really be marrying a nice Jewish boy? Would I be giving up a part of my family’s culture that I might want to explore in the future? This feeling and these pointless worries are probably familiar to a lot of people that have found a relationship outside of their culture.

It was Sunday and less than a week before Thanksgiving. Randy and Gertie were on hand to apply their interior design skills to brighten up the Schlitt house. I needed to talk this out with my friends. “Gertie, I’m thinking that we’re done with the living room.” Randy stood back and admired the bright colors that were splashed around in the form of huge modern vases, plant stands of wicker and wire, and two statues. Every one of the new pieces were in shades of orange, yellow, and just a dash of lime.

The statues made me uncomfortable. “Randy? What…exactly are those statues? When I look at them, they make me feel…oh, I don’t know…dirty. Like I have a slug in my living room. I mean look at them. That one looks like a pair of giant slugs having slug sex.” I was pointing to the two orangey and yellowish blobs entwined in a spiral embrace. “Very psychedelic. It’s kind of tall, too, as tall as Hunter. And then this other thing…I mean statue. It’s…oh God…very…phallic.” I pointed to the second statue that looked like a huge lime colored zucchini standing on end.

Randy attempted his best version of a French accent. “Ha! Statues you say. No, no, you simpleton! These are prized works of art! From the studio of the soon to be famous Nouille Frotter.”

Gertie added her support for the new art, “He’s right, Leigh. Take a look at the base. The artist’s name is right there. Nouille Frotter.”

“Okey dokey, then. I’ll take your word for it. I like the new rug. It’s thick. My toes sink right into it. With all of the colors, it reminds me of one of those famous paintings.” I walked around the room to look at the rug from the other side. When I realized what was depicted on the rug, I nearly fainted. “The Scream? You got me a rug that has the painting The Scream on it? Like that’s going to make people comfortable. It scares the hell out of me.”

Gertie pointed at Randy, “See! I told you! That picture scares the bejeesus out of me, too, Leigh. Look at it. Why is that ghastly looking person screaming? It’s downright unnerving. You said it made a statement, but I don’t get it. Leigh doesn’t get it either, Randy.”

Randy stayed with his French accent, “You…You uncouth peasants. You ignorant—” Then I threw the nearest projectile I could grab, a bookend. It bounced off his head and his accent was gone. “Ouch! What the hell just hit me in the head?”

It was my turn to try a French accent. “It was how you say…a fucking bookend. You imbecile, you ignoramus.”

Gertie laughed so hard she was in tears. “Good shot, Leigh! Randy looked just like the guy on The Scream.”

“Sorry, Randy,” I apologized. “Never mind. It’s all very different. It’s hip. It’s bright and I’m sure everyone will love it. It doesn’t so much speak to you as it just screams at you.” I was already planning on what I could set on top of the rug’s scary screaming face.

Hunter came in while looking at a large piece of paper. “Okay, I’m putting together this entertainment center. Normally, I wouldn’t read the instructions, but this thing has the weirdest assembly that I’ve ever seen. So I take out these instructions and they are all in Swedish. Swedish for Christ’s sake!” He looked up from the instructions and got his first look at the new décor. We all waited for the reaction. “Wow! Cool.” He turned his attention back to the instructions.

Randy looked at us and shrugged. “That was easier than I expected.”

“You have to remember who raised Hunter. This sort of décor is normal for him.” I heard Hunter mumbling something about the Swedish furniture store as he walked away. “Speaking of parents. Randy, you come from a big family and your parents come from two very different cultural groups. Your siblings all have pretty diverse relationships. Has it ever been a problem with anyone?”

“Why would it be?” Randy asked in a dismissive tone.

“Okay, I’m just going to be blunt here. Your parents for example. Your mom is Russian Jewish and your dad is from a very Catholic Sicilian family. Our parents are all second generation American families, so I wonder how much they’ve all assimilated, you know when it comes down to values. Was everyone just okay with it? Your family seems to get along pretty well.”

“You’re talking to the wrong guy. Come on, Leigh. You know my family. We’re big, we’re loud, and we are as crazy as the monkeys on Gertie’s cat farm. We put the word
fun
in dysfunctional for fuck’s sake. Anyway, I think you’re making too big of a deal about it. I don’t think you should worry at all. You think way too much sometimes.”

“Maybe I am. I’m probably just a little nervous. I really want my parents and Hunter’s parents to get along. This Thanksgiving will be the first real test.”

Gertie took my hand. “Randy’s right, Leigh. You’re worrying about something you can’t control. They are who they are. No matter what you say, do, or worry about, it’s up to them. Just let it go. It’s so unlike you to not be more optimistic. It’s almost like your expecting something bad.”

“Exactly.” I can’t say I felt any better about my worries. I just realized that it was me that was hanging my expectations on the behavior of others, something completely out of my control. And that’s always a boneheaded move.

 

Chapter Sixteen

Sleighing the Elfa

“See you after your shift, baby. Be safe. I love you.” I hung up the call and stretched across the bed. Luna seemed to be mimicking my moves. I was enjoying a rare Wednesday without classes by sleeping in. “Tomorrow is the big Thanksgiving Day feast, Luna. I haven’t bought any groceries or even looked up any recipes.”

“Meow. Meow.” Luna retrieved an advertising page from the newspaper.

“What’s this? Are you trying to say something?” The ad was for the familiar large grocery store in the neighborhood. Something caught my eye. “Whoa! Check this out. Complete Thanksgiving Day Feast. Roast turkey with all of the trimmings. Everything is already cooked to perfection! Damn. If Millie wasn’t coming with the turkey, I would be all over this deal. All I’d have to do is put the stuff in my own dishes and act like I made it. Think of the headache and stress that would save me. Next year that’ll be our little secret.”

“Meow.”

“Time to get on the internet and print off a typical menu for our meal. Of course any recipes also, but I think I can get by with prepared frozen foods. I’m going to be one microwaving witch.”

“Meow.”

“Yeah, call me lazy if you like, but I happen to know my limitations.” Luna and I went downstairs and were immediately assaulted by Randy’s décor. It was far too early to deal with that, so we headed for the kitchen. I set my laptop up on the island and started browsing. “Here we go. A typical Thanksgiving feast. I’ll print this off and then do some shopping.”

I was right, it seemed that there was a convenient frozen version for everything, even the pumpkin pie. Once I arrived home a couple of hours later, I started filling the freezer. “I don’t get it, Luna. I distinctly remember hearing people bitch and moan about how much work went into cooking a holiday meal. If you ask me, it’s not any worse than heating up my lunch at school.” I was free to enjoy the rest of my day by getting some writing in.

I had made some changes to Bangin’ the Billion-were and I jumped right in to writing Fangin’ the Billion-were. I was only interrupted once and it was a truly pleasant surprise, courtesy of the Postal Service. “What is this? Another offer for a story submission?” I skimmed through the pertinent parts of the letter. “Okay, the publisher is asking if I could submit a Christmas themed paranormal romance story. I have to think about that. I wonder if I could pull it off. What do you say, Luna? Should I stop the Billion-were story and crank one on out for them?”

“Meow.”

“Are you kidding? It’ll be the easiest writing since I’ve started doing this.”

“Meow.”

“Okay. I am still talking to my cat way too much. My very cynical and pessimistic cat.”

“Meow.”

I picked up my phone and called Kelly. When she answered, all I heard was mumbling, light clinks, and little scraping noises of a thousand little things being slid across Kelly’s nightstand. I’m sort of a neat freak, but when it comes to the little stand next to my side of the bed, it is anything but neat. And Kelly had the same habit. Those things become a catch-all for hair clips, nail clippers, tweezers, pins, you name it and it just might be on the nightstand. Or as Luna prefers to call it, her toy box. In any case, the sounds told me that Kelly was still in bed.

“Hey, what are you doing right now?”

“mmm bm mmb”

“Wait, don’t answer that. Do you have some time to hang out? I have a new story that I’m really excited about writing. Check this out, a paranormal Christmas romance. I—” I was interrupted by a very distinct sound of licking. Through the phone it made me feel like I was getting licked in the ear. “Eww! What the fuck? What the hell are you doing? Licking the phone?”

Kelly’s voice boomed from somewhere in the background. “Hey! Lucifer’s Bastard! Get back on the floor!”

I wish I could have taken a picture of my face. My eyebrows must have been tied in a damn bow and my lips grotesquely curved. I pulled the phone an inch away from my ear. “What the hell? Lucifer’s Bastard? What sick stuff is going on over there?” I pictured Luke gagged and tied up in some leather contraption on the floor, Kelly’s stiletto heels cradling his head.

A small dog yipped and barked into the phone and then Kelly picked it up. “Hello? Who’s this and why were you talking to Lucifer’s Bastard? Do you speak dog?” Kelly asked.

BOOK: literal leigh 05 - joyful leigh
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