Selfie

by Leslie Johnson

  “And I can’t wait to see you. I’ll bring you some Violet Crumble and Caramello Koalas.”

  They were my favorite childhood sweets. We spoke for a few more minutes before hanging up. When I handed the phone back to Stacy, her pretty face was a furious pink.

  “You are so paying for that international call.” She fumed. “Why were you two talking for so long? And what’s this about Wally’s trust fund and adult diapers?”

  I shrugged and rose to my feet. “What does it matter? Money is money. And you’re lucky to have a wealthy boyfriend who’s totally into you.”

  The two had been inseparable since they’d first met. In fact, I was pretty certain that Stacy was going to ask Wally to be her date at the premiere of Werewolves of Tahoe. Things were getting pretty serious between them.

  Stacy eyed me carefully. “Are you going to take a shower?”

  “Yep. I’m even going to wash my hair and toss my gross pajamas into the washing machine.”

  “So . . . you’re feeling better?”

  I nodded slowly, surprised that I was. I was still heartbroken over Hunter, but Grandma’s visit was going to be a lovely distraction for me.

  Stacy bit her lip, looking nervous for some reason. “In that case, I have a favor to ask. I have one last scene left in the film. It’s the one where I’m bitten and slashed by the werewolves.” She paused, then rushed the next words out. “After you shower, can you help me practice? I promise not to squash my breasts into your face this time.”

  “Why don’t you just practice with Wally?”

  She sighed in frustration. “Because the scene requires me to be naked and dying. And the naked part always means Wally will start pawing at my boobs. He’s obsessed with them.”

  “Fine.” I conceded, rolling my eyes. “Do I at least get to play the werewolf then?”

  Stacy nodded vigorously. “All you have to do is grunt and howl at the moon. And basically toss me around like a rag doll.”

  “Sounds like fun,” I said dryly, then softened the tone of my voice. “Thanks for calling my grandma, Stace. It definitely helped.” When she gave me the thumbs-up, I gave her a grateful smile before heading straight for the bathroom.

  I took Friday off to clean up the apartment and make Grandma a proper meal. Naturally, Helen Archer had kicked up a fuss, threatening to fire me from my personal assistant position. In a calm voice, I’d told her that I was available to interview new candidates immediately if that was how she felt, but that I would not come to save her if the newly inducted personal assistant couldn’t keep up with all of her crazy demands.

  In the end, my boss also gave me Monday off as a gesture of good will.

  Around eleven, the front door banged open to reveal Stacy and Wally as they grunted and forced Grandma’s wheelchair through the narrow entrance. Grandma complained loudly, clutching something in her thin arms. I turned around and looked closer.

  It was Fluffy Poo, stuffed and coiffed into a giant cotton ball. His sad, glassy eyes stared back at me as Grandma complained again and hit Wally with her UV parasol.

  “Grandma!” I spluttered. “What the hell? How did you sneak past security without getting that thing confiscated?”

  “Why would the airport confiscate Fluffy Poo?” Grandma said, looking miffed. “It’s not like he has rabies or anything. He’s just stuffed.” She rose to her feet and walked toward me, beckoning me to come closer. “Give us a hug, possum.”

  I hid a grin as Wally panted heavily and stared at Grandma with something close to betrayal. By the looks of it, he had probably carried Grandma and her wheelchair up the several flights of stairs, thinking that she was immobile. Truth be told, I was surprised that Stacy had left out this crucial fact. She’d met Grandma a couple of times when she’d visited Melbourne with me last summer.

  Later, as Grandma was making herself comfortable on the sofa, Wally grabbed my arm and dragged me into the kitchen.

  “Listen, mate, I can’t do this,” he whispered, throwing a nervous glance over his shoulder. “So here’s the deal. I’ll stay here with Stacy. You can stay in the penthouse with Dot. My bedroom’s big enough for you both.” When I shook my head, his eyes turned wild and desperate. “Mate, you gotta help me out. I’m dying here.”

  “You know Hunter and I broke up. It would be awkward as hell.”

  “Not as awkward as when Dot beats me to death or I toss her off from the fifty-third floor.”

  I glared at him in warning. “Don’t threaten my grandma. And her name is Dorothy, not Dot.”

  Wally sighed and rubbed his scruffy face. “Look, I’ll give you one day to decide, all right? Just think about how happy she’ll be if you’re there.”

  What he said made sense, but the thought of staying with Hunter made me break out in a cold sweat. How could I stay there and watch Roxy coming in and out of the penthouse, claiming him right in front of me?

  “I can’t,” I whispered.

  A sympathetic expression entered his eyes, but that quickly disappeared when Grandma bellowed at him for misplacing her parasol.

  “She’s really very sweet,” I added helplessly, “once you get to know her.”

  Wally was unconvinced. “One day,” he repeated, before heading back to the living room. A part of me was afraid that he might snap the froufrou parasol over his knee in frustration, but he remained his usual laid-back self as he carefully folded it and handed it to Grandma.

  “Now, Dot, behave yourself, all right? Otherwise, I’m gonna take you downstairs and abandon you at a nearby soup kitchen.”

  Grandma shook her parasol at him. “You don’t scare me, Waldo Henderson. Now help me up so that we can begin eating.”

  For brunch, I served an egg-and-cheese soufflé, smoked salmon on toast, and a moist carrot cake I’d purchased at the local bakery. Upon finishing our meal, Grandma handed out Caramello Koalas to all three of us, sneaking an extra one to Wally when she thought Stacy and I weren’t looking. I grinned behind my glass of water. Underneath the cranky exterior, she was a big softie who had somewhat of a weakness for good-old Aussie lads. I wondered if she was developing a slight crush on him.

  “Grandma, maybe you should go and lie down for a while. You’re looking a bit peaky.” Worried, I leaned over to place a hand on her forehead. It was probably the jet lag catching up on her.

  She nodded reluctantly. “Actually, I think I’ll head over to Waldo’s now. Thanks for brunch, possum. Your soufflé tasted almost as good as mine.”

  Giving her a fond grin, I stood up to clear the plates away. Once that was done, Stacy and I helped Grandma into Wally’s fancy convertible as he hefted the wheelchair down the stairs. I was grateful that Grandma was staying at a more comfortable place; it wouldn’t do to have a septuagenarian climbing up and down these wretched stairs on a daily basis.

  Just before leaving, Wally grabbed my arm and pulled me closer. “Think about it, yeah?” he muttered, referring to our earlier conversation.

  I rolled my eyes. “Okay, I will. Now take care of her and drive safely.”

  Wally practically devoured Stacy’s mouth before getting into the driver’s seat. “Buckle up, Dot,” he told Grandma. “I’m a pretty wild driver as you know.”

  “I said drive safely!” I yelled as Wally sped out into the street. My parents would kill me if anything happened to the matriarch of our family.

  Stacy linked arms with me, looking expectant. “Feeling better now?”

  I nodded, giving her a half smile. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks for everything, Stace.” As we headed back into the building, my thoughts returned to Hunter. Preparing for Grandma’s arrival had kept me busy for the past few days, but now that things were winding down, I found myself falling into that depressive state once again. To my irritation, an image of Roxy going down on Hunter surfaced in my mind before I could stop it.

  “Give her hell, Grandma.” I muttered under my breath. And I instantly felt a bit better because I knew she would.

  Ch
apter 14

  For the entire weekend, I took Grandma to some of L.A.’s best restaurants and also went shopping at Rodeo Drive. She tried not to show it, but I could tell she was impressed. At one point, she mentioned that she felt like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. I guess that made me a pauper version of Richard Gere. When Grandma pulled out a four-hundred-dollar blouse from one of the clothes racks and admired it, I told myself to remain calm. After all, if I didn’t pamper her now, when would I get the chance to later on?

  “You like that one, do you?” I asked, reaching for my credit card. As soon as she saw what I was doing, her bony fingers gripped my wrist painfully.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  I gave her a sideways glance. “I’m buying you that blouse.”

  “No, you’re bloody not.”

  “Yeah, I bloody am.”

  Indignant, Grandma straightened her shoulders, which proved difficult due to her slightly hunched back.

  “Put that away at once.” She ordered. “This blouse isn’t for me; how could I wear something with a plunging neckline at my age? It’s for you, dear. And I’m buying it.”

  This devolved into another “bloody not’s” and “bloody am’s” inside the fancy schmancy boutique. Of course, Grandma won, and I ended up with a lovely – if slightly revealing – blouse that I vowed to wear only on special occasions.

  When we decided to call it a day, Grandma was slouched in her wheelchair, looking absolutely exhausted.

  “I need my rest, possum. Why don’t we head back to the penthouse?”

  “Will Hunter be there?” I asked carefully. Grandma, of course, knew everything there was to know about Hunter. And also the reason why I’d broken up with him recently.

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so, dear. He told me he’d be at a photo shoot all day.”

  Breathing a sigh of relief, I wheeled Grandma and our shopping bags to my parked Volkswagen and quickly settled her in. I wanted to get her to the penthouse while the coast was clear. The last thing I wanted was to run into Hunter and Roxy, and then be subjected to that vile woman saying something snide about me still remembering the password to the penthouse and not being able to let go.

  It took me roughly a half hour to get to the building.

  By the time I helped Grandma into Wally’s massive bed, it was almost five o’clock. I smiled and tucked the blanket around her small body.

  “Grandma, I can’t stay. But call me if you need anything, all right?”

  She wrapped her fingers around my wrist. “You’re too good, Rosemary. Most men don’t deserve you.” Her lips thinned thoughtfully. “But don’t give up on that one just yet. Men like that are hard to come by.”

  “You’re giving him too much credit,” I said, even though I agreed wholeheartedly. I leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Anyway, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Grandma didn’t hear me; she’d already fallen asleep.

  After pressing Fluffy Poo’s stuffed body beside her, I hurriedly grabbed my keys and left the penthouse. I couldn’t stay there for a minute longer; the lingering scent of Hunter’s cologne was driving me crazy. And making my panties wet.

  Drawing in a deep breath, I got into my car and drove home to make dinner plans with my roommates.

  It was Lorenzo’s turn to decide what we were having for dinner. Because his favorite was Vietnamese cuisine, we ordered beef pho, thirty fried spring rolls, and warm crepes filled with bean sprouts and coconut-y goodness, all downed with an endless supply of ice-cold Budweisers. We stuffed ourselves until we were groaning, half drunk and bursting to go to the bathroom. Stacy and I clutched at our bloated bellies, already regretting our binge night, but Lorenzo lit a cigarette and blew clouds of smoke into our tortured faces, his scarecrow-like frame unaffected by all that food. He leaned back and patted his enviably flat stomach.

  “What’s the matter, girls? No room for tiramisu?”

  I gagged and held up a hand. “Stop talking about food.” I choked out. “I feel like I’m going to spew.”

  Normally, we weren’t the gluttonous types; living in L.A. and surrounded by beach-type bodies pretty much guaranteed that. But because Stacy had starved herself for her naked scenes, Lorenzo and I had felt she deserved a binge night, especially now that her part in the horror flick was over.

  The things we did for our friends.

  I wobbly rose to my feet, letting out a slow breath. “Must digest,” I muttered. “Let’s go for a walk, shall we?”

  Lorenzo opted to remain behind. According to him, he had a client coming over in an hour or so, a woman desperate for a much-needed hug. In fact, he baldly asked us to leave, which piqued my curiosity. Lorenzo had never asked us to leave even when his clients were around. It made me wonder if she was less of a client and more of a possible hook-up.

  “Have fun, then,” I said, still curious about his new lady friend as Stacy and I went out the door. The streets outside were lit with colorful lights, the warm night air filled with the din of indecipherable conversations, laughter, and loud honking from passing cars. I linked arms with Stacy as we drunkenly swayed down the sidewalk.

  “We should call Wally,” she said, letting out a satisfied sigh. “Hey, want to go clubbing?”

  Before I could reply, my phone buzzed in my back pocket. Wally’s name flashed across my screen, causing me to grin.

  “Speak of the devil, eh?” I said, showing Stacy my phone. In a drunken, joyous mood, I shouted out a greeting to my fellow Aussie friend.

  Wally seemed alarmed by my cheerful voice. “You all right, mate?”

  “Never better!” I shouted, laughing as I put him on speaker. “Come out and play with us, Waldo. Stacy’s here as well.”

  There were muffled voices in the background, followed by an angry scream.

  “Uh, there’s some trouble here. You might need to come over and sort it out.” Wally sounded extremely uncomfortable.

  I sobered up instantly. “What kind of trouble? Is Grandma okay?”

  “For now. But Dot got into a bit of a squabble with Roxy. And you know Roxy.” Wally paused, as if sussing out the situation. “She looks ready to murder an innocent old lady half her size.”

  The “innocent old lady” part was a bit of a stretch, but no one messed with my grandma. Especially a shallow, blackmailing viper who threatened to destroy rising careers if things didn’t go her way.

  “We’re coming right now.” I gritted out.

  Stacy and I hailed down a taxi and tumbled in, urging the poor driver to go faster whenever the traffic lights turned yellow. He seemed flustered by our demands, but silently did as told. For his troubles, I gave him an extra twenty on top of the fare as we crawled out of the vehicle and stood before the brightly lit building. My heart was thumping with adrenaline and anxiety at seeing Hunter.

  Seeing my hesitation, Stacy grabbed my hand and pulled me into the building.

  When we reached the fifty-third floor, the door to the penthouse was wide open. Wally was standing outside, casting a nervous glance into the living room. The second he saw us, his shoulders slumped in relief.

  “Thank God you’re here, mate,” he said, hurrying toward us. He planted a kiss on Stacy’s mouth, then quickly grabbed her hand. “Listen, Roe, sorry to do this to you, but we’re leaving.”

  “We are?” Stacy frowned at him, taken aback.

  “This could go on all night, love. And trust me, you don’t want to be caught in the middle of it.” He shot me an apologetic grimace. “I’ll be staying with Stacy tonight, maybe for good until this shitstorm with Roxy is over.” He shuffled his feet, as if in guilt. “Anyway, good luck, yeah?”

  I watched mutely as my friends deserted me, leaving me to stand there all by my lonesome. Well, my backup was gone. But that wasn’t going to deter me from saving Grandma. Squaring my shoulders, I marched into the penthouse and walked into a curious scene – Hunter and Grandma on one side, with Roxy looming over Grandma in a threatening stance.
There was what appeared to be splattered semi-dried egg on her pearl silk dress.

  “What’s going on?” I asked quietly.

  Hunter’s head jerked up, his green eyes narrowing dangerously. Damn him, why was he staring at me like that?

  Like he fucking wants to pounce on me and rip off my clothes.

  “Easy, fella,” I muttered under my breath as I strode toward them. I couldn’t get distracted now, not when Roxy looked ready to physically assault someone. My eyes trained on Grandma, I went over and crouched in front of her wheelchair.

  “Are you all right?” I asked firmly, holding her hands. “Did she lay a finger on you?”

  “What kind of fucking lunacy is this?” Roxy shrieked, her usually cold face looking red and splotchy. I had never seen her so out of control before. “Your crazy grandmother was the one who attacked me. Got it? See this fucking stain on my three-thousand-dollar dress? She did it on purpose!”

  I really didn’t give two shits about her dress, but I did want to know what had happened. Belatedly, I noticed a slight bruise spreading across Grandma’s arm, which ignited my anger. I decided to put it aside for now.

  “Did you attack her, Grandma?” I asked, ignoring the way Hunter was staring down at my crouched form. I could feel his eyes burning a hole in my forehead.

  “It was an accident,” she said angrily, glaring up at Roxy. “I wanted to bake a cake for the boys, but this cock-sucking banshee walked into me while I was holding my eggs.”

  “Grandma . . .” I trailed off in warning. She was fairly infamous for her colorful language in our Sydney home, but we were before friends and strangers. Still, I had to admit “cock-sucking banshee” was an apt description of Hunter’s agent.

  “You are going to pay for this ruined dress, you old hag!” Roxy threatened. “All three thousand dollars of it.”

  “Or what?” I spat out, fed up with her nonsense. “Do you see that bruise spreading on Grandma’s arm? Just count your lucky stars that I’m not reporting you for assault.”