Rock Chick

by Kristen Ashley

  That, and there was also the fact that Judy, the housekeeper, also came with Lee moving in.

  Ally and I were lying out in the sun on my balcony with melting spiced rum and diets, the phone and an egg timer when we heard, “Yoo hoo!”

  I lifted my torso up, looked through the balcony railing and down and saw Tod standing on the decking at the end of their yard.

  “Hey,” I called.

  “Drag Duty, Saturday night. You up for it?” Tod called back, shielding his eyes with his hand, Chowleena sitting by his feet.

  “Sure.”

  “Stevie’s on a flight that night, Ally, you doin’ back up?” Tod yelled.

  “Um-hum,” Ally mumbled loudly. She was lying on her stomach and her face was smushed into the lounge chair.

  “What time?” I asked.

  Tod paused, then said, “Girlie, aren’t you forgetting something?”

  “What?”

  Tod shook his head. “You’re living with Hunk-A-Licous now, you might want to ask him if he has plans for Saturday night.”

  Ally’s eyes opened and trained on me.

  Shit.

  I was really not good at this relationship stuff.

  “Call Lee,” Tod advised, “then come over and let me know.”

  “Gotcha,” I shouted and settled in, reaching for the phone and hearing Chowleena’s nails tapping on the bricks as she and Tod walked back into the house.

  I started to punch in Lee’s cell number.

  “I’m still pissed you’re not pregnant,” Ally said into the lounge chair.

  “For goodness sake, why?” I asked.

  “I’m never gonna get a niece named after me.”

  I hesitated before hitting the call button. “Ally, I hate to break this to you but it’s likely genetically impossible for me to have a girl. I don’t think Lee’s boys will allow the female chromosome to dominate.”

  “You can name a boy ‘Ally’,” she tried.

  “I’m not naming a boy ‘Ally’. He’ll get the shit knocked out of him in school.”

  “Muhammad Ali didn’t get the shit knocked out of him, he knocked the shit out of everyone else.”

  “Muhammad Ali was born with the name Cassius Clay. Cassius Clay is a kickass name. No one would fuck with a Cassius Clay.”

  “No one would fuck with Muhammad Ali either.”

  I couldn’t debate that point.

  I gave up and hit the call button.

  Lee answered after the first ring. “Yeah?”

  I got a thrill down my spine at Lee’s voice saying that one word. I wondered when that would stop happening and I hoped the answer was “never”.

  “Hey. Do we have plans Saturday night?” I asked.

  “I thought I’d take you to Barolo Grill.”

  “Yippee!” I cried.

  Shit.

  Did I say that out loud?

  I snapped my mouth shut.

  Silence on the phone.

  “Lee?”

  “Gorgeous, I know you don’t like it when I say this but you’re incredibly cute.”

  That gave me a thrill down my spine too.

  I’d never, in a million years, admit that to Lee.

  “Whatever,” I said instead. “Anyway, Tod’s asked me to do Drag Duty.”

  Lee, who was good at this relationship stuff, said immediately, “I’ll tell Dawn to make it an early reservation.”

  Hee hee.

  Lee was going to get Dawn to make our dinner reservations.

  At the beautiful, fabulous, romantic Barolo Grill.

  I loved that and I didn’t even care, not one bit, what that said about me.

  “That sounds good,” I said and I couldn’t help it, I sounded happy. This was maybe because I was happy.

  “Is that it?” Lee asked.

  “Yes, no, yes,” I answered, because I didn’t want it to be.

  Shit.

  “Which is it?”

  I lost my courage. “It’s no. Later.”

  “Later.”

  Before I heard the disconnect, quickly, I pulled myself together and told myself that even Rock Chicks could fall in love.

  Then, I said, “Love you.”

  Silence for a beat then, quietly, “Love you too.”

  That didn’t only cause a thrill, it gave me a warm feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  I hit the off button and Ally said, “You guys are kinda making me sick with all this gushy stuff.”

  I stared at her. “I just said ‘love you’. That’s hardly gushy.”

  “It’s gushy for you.”

  This was true.

  “Did Lee say it back?” she asked, squinting at me.

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s gushy for him too. Off-the-charts gushy.”

  She wasn’t wrong.

  “Girls!” We heard Kitty Sue call from inside the house, luckily saving me from the gushy conversation.

  “We’re out here!” I yelled.

  Kitty Sue opened the door and stuck her head out. “Come inside. I only have a minute and I have to do this now.”

  Then she was gone.

  Ally and I looked at each other. Kitty Sue was using her Mom No Backtalk Voice and, with years of experience, we both knew better than to argue.

  Kitty Sue’s arrival was a surprise.

  “Do you know what this is about?” I asked Ally.

  She shook her head.

  We got up, wrapped sarongs around our waists, grabbed the phone, our drinks and the egg timer and went into the house.

  Kitty Sue was standing in the living room.

  “What are you drinking?” she asked Ally when Ally had rounded the stairs.

  “Rum and diet,” Ally answered.

  Kitty Sue yanked the glass out of her hand and downed it in two gulps.

  Ally and I stared at her while she did this then turned our heads to look at each other.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked Kitty Sue because I knew something was wrong. Kitty Sue was no teetotaler but she wasn’t one to chug, especially not rum. I’d only seen her chug once, during an out of control, marathon game of Scattergories one Christmas Eve and she’d not been able to think of an “s” word for the food category and that was so lame, we made her chug a beer as penance.

  Good times.

  “I’m not good at this,” Kitty Sue answered me, breaking into my trip down memory lane.

  “At what?” Ally said.

  “Being… doing… I don’t know. Girls, sit down.”

  Ally and I exchanged another glance, then we sat.

  That’s when I noticed a small wooden chest. It had hearts and flowers painted on it and some fading glitter stuck to it as well as some old stickers. It was sitting on the ottoman between my couch and armchairs.

  “What’s that?” I asked, putting my drink and the phone on the floor beside me.

  Kitty Sue plonked down on my couch opposite us and put her empty glass on the ottoman beside the chest. “It’s a Best Friend Box.”

  My breath left my lungs.

  “What?” Ally asked quietly.

  “It’s Katie and my Best Friend Box. We put all our most precious stuff in there.”

  I stared at the box.

  That was my Mom’s box.

  Oh my God.

  I felt tears hit the backs of my eyes and I started deep breathing.

  Kitty Sue looked like she was deep breathing too.

  I heard Ally deep breathing beside me.

  Kitty Sue leaned forward and opened the box.

  “Let me see…” she said and started pulling stuff out of the box, trinkets, costume jewelry, what looked like ticket stubs to concerts and movies. I watched these treasures emerge in fascinated silence.

  Then, she pulled out an old, yellowed envelope.

  “Here it is,” she said and without hesitation, she opened it, pulled out a piece of paper, unfolded it and started reading. “I, Katherine Maria Basore and I, Kathryn Susannah Milligan do solemnly swear to stay
best friends forever. No matter what. Even if Curt Zacharus asks Kitty Sue to go with him even though Katie is in love with him and wants to kiss him with tongues. This is the strength of our Bestest Best Friendom. We will get married in a double ceremony and live in houses with white picket fences that are right next door to each other. When we have children, they will play together and one day, they will get married so we can be related for real. The End.”

  I was back to not breathing and I could feel Ally was not breathing beside me.

  Kitty Sue stopped reading and turned the paper around to show me the flowery, young girl script on the front. She pointed to some brown stains at the bottom.

  “Katie wrote this and we signed it in blood, kind of,” Kitty Sue explained. “We poked our fingers with pins and then stuck them together in a blood pact then mushed them on the paper.”

  My head slowly turned to Ally.

  She was breathing again and she was smiling.

  “Well!” Kitty Sue said sharply and jumped up, “that’s done then.” She was rushing through putting the paper back in the envelope and she laid it on the ottoman. “Gotta go. Things to do. I’ll leave the box.”

  “Kitty Sue –” I said, standing up.

  “Mom –” Ally stood too.

  Kitty Sue was headed to the door. “Don’t forget, barbeque at Hank’s on Saturday.”

  Damn.

  Lee and I were never going to go to Barolo Grill.

  I shook off thoughts of delicious truffle risotto and followed Kitty Sue. “Kitty Sue, wait.”

  She stopped at the door and turned. Tears were shimmering in her eyes and the sight of them made me freeze. I didn’t recall ever seeing Kitty Sue cry.

  Ever.

  Ally halted beside me.

  Everyone was silent.

  “Sometimes,” Kitty Sue broke the silence, “I forget and pick up the phone to call her. Still. After all these years… it seems like just yesterday.”

  I swallowed and Kitty Sue began to get fuzzy as I looked at her but I could tell she was looking at me too.

  “She’d be so happy,” Fuzzy Kitty Sue whispered.

  Before anyone could say anything, she opened the door and was gone.

  Ally and I watched her through the window as she got in her car and took off.

  “Do you think she’ll be okay driving?” I asked and my voice sounded funny so I cleared my throat.

  “We’ll call her in a bit, check on her.” Ally’s voice sounded funny too.

  “Good idea.”

  We stood there, silent, staring out the window.

  Ally broke the quiet, the first to tamp down her emotion and get on with it.

  As always.

  “I need a drink. Mom downed mine.”

  “My ice is all melted,” I said.

  “I’ll get you another one.”

  “I need to call Lee. I forgot about the barbeque. Barolo Grill is off.”

  “Bummer.”

  Ally picked up my glass and walked to the kitchen.

  I stared at the box and decided to go through it later, when I was alone and no one would be able to call me a sissy or see my ugly, blotchy, red face when I was done.

  * * * * *

  I was lying in my darkened bedroom attempting a Disco Nap.

  I heard Lee (or what I hoped was Lee) come in. The house was so silent, even at the distance of the kitchen to the bedroom, I heard his keys hit the counter.

  I decided we were going to have to have another talk about the keys-on-the-counter business. I had a cute, kitty-tails-as-hooks key holder on the wall by the backdoor. Keys went on one of the kitty tails. I’d already told him once, but did he listen? No. He just smiled at me like he thought I was cute.

  I heard his footsteps on the stairs and put my arm over my face.

  I’d gone through Kitty Sue and Mom’s box, sifted through the memories, read and reread the letter until I’d memorized my Mom’s girlish handwriting, held the treasures in my hands, touched them, turned them, even smelled some of them.

  Because of this, I had been crying and no way, in hell, did I want Lee to see me post-crying-orgy.

  “Indy?” Lee called my name quietly and I knew he was standing by the bed.

  I feigned sleep.

  The bed moved when he sat on it and moved more when he took his boots off. I heard them hit the floor, one then the other. Then the bed moved again when he settled into it, turned to me and pulled my back to his front, arm around my waist.

  “Stop pretending to sleep,” he said.

  “Go away. I’m taking a Disco Nap,” I told him, my voice muffled as it was coming from under my arm.

  “You’ve been crying.”

  What?

  How on earth could he know that? He hadn’t seen my face.

  “Have not,” I lied.

  He sighed. “Mom told Dad about the box. Dad told me.”

  Shit.

  This was going to be my life. I knew it. With Malcolm and Dad best friends and Ally and me best friends and Hank and Lee super close and Kitty Sue and Malcolm married, nothing was ever going to be a secret.

  I decided to keep quiet.

  Lee decided he didn’t like that.

  He moved me so I was facing him.

  I struggled for a bit then, realizing I wouldn’t win, I ducked my head and pressed it into his chest.

  “Look at me, Indy.”

  “No,” I said into his chest.

  “Look at me.”

  “I said no.”

  “Why?”

  “My face is splotchy.”

  His body started shaking with laughter.

  “I don’t fucking care if your face is splotchy.” Amusement was heavy in his voice.

  I was so sure.

  Like it mattered that he didn’t care. I cared.

  “Well, I do,” I snapped.

  “Look at me.”

  “I’m not crying about the box. I’m just pissed we’re not going to get to go to Barolo Grill and especially pissed that Dawn doesn’t have to make reservations for us,” I lied, again (though I was kinda pissed about that but, as Lee said, we had time).

  “You’re lying.”

  “Am not.”

  His arms went around me and he pulled me into him, tight.

  I waited.

  Nothing happened.

  I waited some more.

  Still nothing happened.

  Then I realized Lee was giving in.

  That made me feel warm and happy and, yes, gushy again, and I relaxed into him.

  “Marianne called,” I told him for no reason, face still pressed into his chest. “She put an offer on a house, it was accepted. She’s moving out of her parent’s house in a few months.”

  Lee’s fingers started drifting up and down my spine but he didn’t answer.

  I went on. “Andrea called and she wants us to come over for dinner next Tuesday.”

  “Her kids going to be there?”

  “Probably.”

  “Jesus,” he muttered and I didn’t blame him. I’d actually had dinner at Andrea’s house with her kids in attendance. I went home with Jell-o in my hair (the Jell-o fight wasn’t my fault, Andrea’s oldest started it, I just participated out of self-defense).

  “Should I say yes or no?” I asked.

  “Yes but I might have to work. Do you mind if last minute you have to go alone?”

  I tipped my head back and glared at him. “I do not think so. You aren’t going to bail at the last minute because of some fake work thing.”

  He looked down at me. “It might not be fake.”

  “It’ll be fake.”

  “It might not.”

  “It’ll so be fake.”

  His eyes crinkled at the corners, his head lowered and he kissed me.

  I forgot about my splotchy, blotchy, sissy-girl, crying face and kissed him back.

  Then I forgot about Andrea’s dinner-party-with-kids-from-hell and Lee’s fake work thing when his mouth opened over min
e and his tongue slid inside.

  Then I forgot about my Disco Nap when his hands went inside my t-shirt.

  Then, sometime later, I forgot about absolutely everything in the entire universe when we were naked and Lee slid inside me and started moving.

  “Lee,” I whispered.

  His head came up, he looked down at me with melty-chocolate eyes and he smiled his Killer Liam Nightingale Smile.

  Then his mouth came to mine and I could still feel his smile against my lips.

  “You love me,” he said there.

  My hips tilted, he slid in deeper and it felt nice.

  “So,” I breathed (or, kind of panted), “damned cocky.”

  ####

  About the Author

  Kristen Ashley lives in the beautiful West Country of England with her husband and her cat. She came to England by way of Denver, where she lived for twelve years, but she grew up in Brownsburg, Indiana. Her family and friends are loopy (to say the least) but loopy is good when you want to write.

  Kristen’s Mom moved her and her brother and sister in with their grandparents when she was six. Her grandparents had a daughter much younger than her Mom so they all lived together on a very small farm in a small farm town in the heartland. She grew up with Glenn Miller, The Everly Brothers, REO Speedwagon and Whitesnake (and the wardrobes that matched). Needless to say, growing up in a house full of music, clothes and love was a good way to grow up.

  And as she keeps growing up, it keeps getting better.

  Discover other Titles by Kristen Ashley at Smashwords.com

  Rock Chick Rescue

  Rock Chick Redemption

  Connect with Kristen Online:

  Official Website: www.kristenashley.net

  Kristen’s Blog: www.kristenashley.net/menu/blog.html

  Kristen’s Facebook Page