The Worst Romance Novel Ever Written (41 page)

Emily/Cat fell asleep.

Gunn slapped her repeatedly and then sort of, by accident, mind you, and not meaning to do it at all, kissed her as casually as he could just below the left paw of the pudgy pit bull puppy tattooed on Emily/Cat’s forehead.

Naturally
, Thais came in at the exact moment of lip contact, scanned Emily/Cat’s forehead one more time, heard the glorious beep, saw her man casually kissing the tattoo of a pudgy pit bull puppy, and had a remarkable dream sequence where she was the dog whisperer to Lassie, yes, the Lassie, only Lassie wasn’t a girl at all and had issues with her co-stars because they kept calling her “girl” when she was obviously not a girl dog at all, thank you very much, and it conflicted her so much that she contemplated running as a vice presidential candidate from Alaska. Shaken from her nightmare, Thais felt much better when she unloaded three clips of cop-killer bullets into Emily/Cat’s suspiciously familiar head.

Hey,
Thais thought midway through the second clip,
my kid sister used to have a pineapple-shaped scar on her chin where I once kicked her with steel-toed boots because she wouldn’t let me pet the goat first at the Al-á-Mode annual family reunion (complete with blank T-shirts) and where I accidentally shot off a mortar that killed Osama bin Something. He needed a new kidney anyway, and where are you going to find a good kidney or a working dialysis machine in the mountains of western Pakistan?

“
Stop!” Gunn cried resignedly. “You’ve just killed your sister … again!”

“
That explains the scar,” Thais said scarily. “I just know I wouldn’t have been able to sleep tonight without knowing that. It would have gnawed and gnawed on me like a beaver trying to eat its way out of Sherwood Forest, like a Republican wondering and wondering what went wrong in the last election, like Paris Hilton trying to figure out why the world gives a crap about her at all. Thank you, Gunn, for once again calming my mind.”

Gunn crumpled to the floor like a man who had, indeed, been shot with three clips of cop-killer bullets that had previously shattered the sexy skull of one Cat Mann/Emily Benderdondat. Dark red blood gurgled, sloshed, and babbled crazy blues tunes from every hole in his body, and though the bullets had shredded his lungs like a huge pile of Republican yard signs, he was able to say his final lines without a single rasp, cough, or sputter.

“
No matter what you’ve done,” Gunn said clear as a bell and in 5.1 Dolby surround sound, “I will always be a part of your life, Thais Knotts. I will also always be a part of your sister’s brains and sinus mucus since I doubt any forensic pathologist could separate all that mess from my body, I mean, they work for the state, right? Why work too hard when they’re only going to freeze your salary or make you work without pay anyway? One day, Thais, you’ll look back on this moment and smile. One day you’ll look back on this moment and either shed a happy tear or tear a happy shed. One day you’ll look back on this moment and feel a hot flash, and it won’t be an atomic explosion in Iran or North Korea. Whenever you look at dental floss, you’ll remember me and your sister in this tangled heap of clotting blood, scalp fragments, and some clear liquid I haven’t yet identified. Whenever you look at a Scotsman, you’ll remember me and the night we used hydrogen peroxide to bleach your eyebrows so you could make your forehead appear bigger, you’ll remember the day we ate all that expired bologna in the fridge and didn’t die, you’ll remember the morning we—”

Thais emptied a fourth clip into Gunn’s face.

“
You’ll remember me,” Gunn said clear as the sky over Neptune even though he had no teeth or a tongue or much of a palate. “Do me a favor.”

Thais rolled her eyes. “Okay. What?”

“
When you bury us—”

“
I’m going to set the place on fire to hide my criminal crime,” Thais interrupted, “so the authorities may just decide to have you two cremated.”

“
Even better,” Gunn said clear as the Texas sky after a really cool rain like on those old black and white shows like
Death Valley Days.
“Leave a typewritten note that says—”

“
A note will burn up in the fire,” Thais said hotly.

“
Oh yeah,” Gunn said, propping up his jawless face with the stump of the hand he had used in a vain attempt to stop all the bullets. “I just want my bone shards and fragments to hang out with Cat’s guts for eternity. Is that going to be a problem?”

Thais put her foot down hard and gave herself shin splints. “Yes.” Thais smiled then felt a piece of nastiness stuck between her teeth. She looked at Emily/Cat’s body and frowned. I don’t use used and bloody dental floss, she thought. She looked and saw something pointy in Emily/Cat’s hand. She pried it loose with a vicious cracking sound and picked the nastiness out of her teeth.

“
Ha ha ha,” Thais said laughingly. “A thorn for Emily.”

After turning on all the gas outlets in the house, and not knowing that the gas company installs all sorts of safety features so that kind of thing can’t possibly happen—at least in America—Thais lit the little thorn and tossed it behind her as she left Gunn’s mansion forever.

Much later, Thais Knotts woke up in a barn in Flagstaff, Arizona, thirty-four months later with a baby girl on her chest.

Thais named her Rafe but would later nickname her Sparky.

How Thais got from the potpourri of brains in Podunk, Virginia, how she survived the blast that destroyed Gunn’s mansion, and how she crawled 3,000 miles to this decrepit barn are the subjects of the next umpteen books in the thrilling series:
Thais Knotts Ties The ‘Not’s’ of Love.

THE END

Johnny smiled. “It’s even crappier than I thought it would be! Gloria will love it!”

But,
Johnny thought,
will she love the ring?

28

“
This is horribly, wickedly good,” Gloria crooned from her perch on the loveseat. “And I mean it. It’s ridiculous, absurd, and stupid funny all at the same time.”

“
It’s too short,” Johnny said, his fingers slimy with sweat, the ring growing heavier and heavier in his pocket. “It’s nowhere near novel-length.”

“
It’s a little thin, but it’s ludicrous, illogical, and gross,” Gloria said. “It will probably be a box-office hit.”

“
I doubt that.”

“
Or,” Gloria continued, “it can be a regular skit on
Saturday Night Live
or a show like that.”

Johnny sighed. “You’re only saying that because you love me.”

He used the L-word again. Maybe he’s just saying it as an expression, like “a face only a mother could love.” I hope he is.
“It’s funny, Johnny. Really, really, really, really funny.”

Johnny pouted. “So you’re not saying that because you love me.”

Twice in one sitting!
“You know I care a lot about you, but—”

“
You love me,” Johnny interrupted. “Admit it.”

Three times!

“
Admit it, Gloria,” Johnny said. “You’re in love with the pizza guy who writes bad novellas.”

Four times is my absolute limit for one night!
“Funny bad novellas, but I didn’t say—”

“
Who has nothing really to offer you,” Johnny interrupted. “No money, a wasted college degree, no real job, a crappy apartment, a crappier car, nightmares. Yet you love him.”

Well,
Gloria thought,
when you put it all into a nutshell like that …
“Johnny, do you really love me?”
And now I’m saying the word.

“
Yes.”

And he didn’t hesitate a bit.
“Since when?”

She just winced. No, it was more of a grimace, as if she’s just eaten something vile.
“Since you kissed me at the bus stop that day in front of the bus driver. It was romantic. It was unexpected. I love the smell of bus exhaust now. I even open my window whenever I’m following a bus. I don’t mind McDonald’s wrappers littering the roads. I minded before. You changed me.”

Okay, maybe he’s joking.
“Be serious.”

“
I am. I have loved you since breakfast at the Roanoker.”

He has to be joking.
“Johnny, we have already established—”

“
That this sort of thing doesn’t happen?” Johnny interrupted. “It did, Gloria. At least it did for me.”

Why am I suddenly scared out of my mind?
“But how can you be so sure?”
Tell me, Johnny. I have to know so I can be sure, too!

“
I just know, Gloria. I feel it in my bones.”

And I’m feeling something in my heart right now. I wish I could call this feeling love, but I can’t!
“But we’ve only known each other for—”

“
Long enough,” Johnny interrupted. “We’re not kids anymore, Gloria. We’ve known each other long enough. I’ve known you long enough to know that I love you.”

“
But Johnny …” Gloria sighed. “I don’t … know if I love you yet.”

She loves me. She has to.
“You do, Gloria. You just don’t have a name for what you’re feeling. I know what it’s called. It’s called love, and that’s what you feel for me.”

“
But I don’t,” Gloria said.

“
You do,” Johnny said.

Gloria stood. “But I don’t!”

Johnny stood. “I know you love me.”

Gloria looked at her feet.
Why am I standing? Is this where I’m supposed to put my foot down hard?
She sat. “Johnny, I’m just not sure. This is a huge step for me.”
Is this where I tell him that I’ve never loved anyone before? I can’t do that! He won’t believe me. He’ll say it isn’t possible for someone to live twenty-five years and not love someone.
“You know I thought about having you move in with us, right?”

Johnny nodded.

“
Well, why don’t we start cleaning out the basement?” Gloria asked. “And then maybe—”

“
You’ll love me?” Johnny interrupted. “You’ll want to marry me if I move in first?” Johnny began pacing in front of her.

And now he’s using the M-word? What a night!

“
That makes no sense, Gloria,” Johnny said.

Excuse me?
“It makes sense to me,” Gloria said evenly.

“
Well, it makes no sense to me,” Johnny said. “I mean, either you love me or you don’t love me. Period. Whether I move in and become your ‘tenant’ or not shouldn’t matter.”

“
It matters to me,” Gloria said. “I know I can learn to—”

“
No,” Johnny interrupted. “No. There’s nothing to learn. It’s just something you accept. I believe we have a love that is as sensible as a paper clip. I believe we have a love as simple and sweet as a cherry Dum-Dum.”

“
But in my mind,” Gloria said, “I believe it’s just as sensible for you to move in first. We can, um, we can be neighbors for a while. We hardly see each other, Johnny, and if you move in, I’ll see you more and I’ll get to know you more.”

Why isn’t this working out? Marion seemed so sure. I was sure!
“I guess I’m just too old-fashioned, Gloria. There’s an order to things, you know? Love first, ring second, house third, kids fourth, dog fifth, mini-van seventh.”

“
You skipped sixth,” Gloria said.

“
I might decide to squeeze in a cat or a goldfish,” Johnny said.

What a time to crack a joke!
“What about Marla?” Gloria asked.
Yeah. Answer that one.
“Did you love her, too?”

Johnny shook his head rapidly. “What does Marla have to do with what’s happening here right now?”

“
Did you love her, too, Johnny?”

“
No,” Johnny said. “Marla was a mistake. Grief and pain brought us together, not love. She said she loved me, but I didn’t believe her.”