Popped

by Carol Higgins Clark

  “Do you think we can go home tomorrow?” Shep implored Maddy.

  “No. Danny needs us.”

  Honey had a show to do Wednesday night. She’d spent most of the day at Alex’s salon.

  “For the hundredth time, I have everything,” Alex assured her. “Don’t worry.”

  When Honey got home from work at 1 A.M., she set her alarm and tried to sleep. They had to be at the studio at noon. But she had a restless night.

  She had a terrible premonition that something was going to go wrong.

  Thursday, October 9

  63

  A t 11:45 A.M. on Thursday, Danny made an announcement to his group. They were in the studio. “We’re going to be doing something special this afternoon.”

  “What’s that?” Vicky asked excitedly.

  “Makeovers.”

  “Makeovers?” they all murmured.

  “You think we need makeovers?” Elsa was clearly insulted.

  “Well,” Danny said, struggling for the right words. “Not exactly makeovers. We have a hairdresser and a makeup artist who are going to style your hair and apply your makeup. They’ll give you tips on how to do it yourself—if you’d like, of course.”

  “I’m not shaving my mustache,” Barney grumbled.

  “That’s okay. You can do what you want.”

  Regan stepped in for Danny. “We thought this would be fun. You’re all going to be getting dressed up before we get on the plane to Albuquerque tomorrow morning. If you’ve never had a makeover, you’ll find it a treat. Most women like to have their hair styled.”

  “Not me,” Elsa declared vehemently. “No one is touching my hair.”

  You’ve got to be kidding, Regan thought.

  “Barney loves my hair this way. Right, Barney?”

  “I love it!”

  “That’s fine, Elsa. You can have your makeup done if you like.”

  “All right.”

  “I think this sounds great,” Vicky said. “I think my hair can use a trim.”

  “Good,” Regan answered. “They’ll be arriving in a few minutes.”

  “There’s not much you can do with my hair,” Bill complained, touching his red wisps. “I haven’t got much left. And I’ve never worn makeup, and I never will.”

  “Maybe the hairdresser can give you a little trim as well then,” Regan suggested, trying not to sound exasperated.

  “Relax for a few minutes, everybody,” Danny urged. “We’ll work it out when they get here.”

  Victor appeared in the doorway. “They’re here.”

  “Here goes nothing,” Danny said quietly to Regan. They walked out to greet the beauty crew in the reception area.

  “Honey,” Danny said stiffly, walking toward his former girlfriend.

  “Hi, Danny,” she said in a little voice as he kissed her cheek. She had on a pair of tight pants, a sleeveless top, and high heels. Her hair and makeup were perfect. When Honey saw Regan, she looked crestfallen.

  “I’m Regan Reilly,” Regan said quickly, extending her hand to Honey. “I’m working on the show with Danny.”

  Honey looked somewhat relieved. “Danny and Regan, this is Alex, the best hairdresser in Vegas, and Ellen, our favorite makeup artist.”

  Alex looked like an aging punk rocker, and Ellen appeared to be in her early twenties. She wore no makeup and was moving her body to music only she could hear. Headphones clung to her skull. She pulled them off. “Hello.”

  “Where are our victims?” Alex asked.

  “We’ll bring you to them,” Danny replied nervously.

  Regan noticed that Danny couldn’t take his eyes off Honey as they helped gather up the several black cases of makeup and beauty-making paraphernalia. He still has a thing for her, she thought. They all walked in silence back down the hallway into the studio.

  Honey took one look at Elsa, and her face lit up. “Hi!” she said warmly. “I remember you! You were in the casino the other night!”

  Barney rushed over to Honey. “Please,” he said to Honey quietly. “That was a very bad night for my wife. Just don’t mention it.”

  “Okay, okay.” Honey glanced nervously at Danny. She looked as if she was going to cry. “I didn’t mean to upset her.”

  “Honey,” Regan interrupted. “Let me show you the dressing room where you can set up. There are big mirrors and lots of counter space.”

  “Faboo,” Alex said.

  Honey walked next to Regan. “I didn’t mean anything.”

  “It’s all right. Where did you see her?”

  “At the Bellagio the other night. It was about three in the morning. She was sitting in the lobby reading a book and underlining stuff.”

  “She was? Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive. My friend Lucille and I passed through there a couple of times. We thought it was strange that someone was sitting in a lobby in Vegas at that hour reading—with a big highlighting marker, no less. And how can you forget that hairdo of hers?”

  “That’s very interesting, Honey,” Regan said.

  “I thought so.”

  For the next few hours the cameras recorded the transformation of the contestants. Suzette and Vicky both had their hair cut and then swept up into elegant chignons. Ellen deftly applied makeup that made both women look sophisticated and infinitely more attractive.

  “I’ll just take a little rouge,” Elsa insisted, closing her eyes and wincing. She wouldn’t let Alex touch her hair.

  The men had their hair trimmed, which took about three minutes each.

  When they were finished, Agony exclaimed, “This is wonderful. Our contestants all look their absolute best. How are we to choose, Heartburn?” she asked dramatically. “These three couples all deserve to renew their vows and win a million dollars.”

  “It will be a tough, tough decision,” Heartburn agreed.

  “Cut!” Danny yelled. “Thanks so much, Alex, Ellen, and Honey. I think this is a great addition to Love Above Sea Level.”

  “You’ll be sure to mention my salon?” Alex asked.

  “More than once,” Danny promised.

  Regan noticed that Honey looked bereft as she prepared to leave. She pulled Danny aside. “Why don’t you invite them to the screening tomorrow afternoon?”

  Danny looked at Regan and didn’t say anything.

  “Sometimes having too much pride can be foolish, Danny. She’s crazy about you.”

  “All right, all right,” he muttered. He went back to the group who were packing up the endless brushes and combs, and cans and tubes and bottles. “If you people want to come to the screening tomorrow afternoon, it should be kind of fun. That’s when Roscoe will decide if our show or the sitcom will air.”

  “I’d love to,” Honey replied quickly. “What time?”

  “Five o’clock at the Balloon Channel. I hope you all can make it.” Danny waved good-bye and walked out of the room.

  “Mission accomplished, darling.” Alex air-kissed Honey as she burst into tears.

  64

  “I feel pretty…” Suzette sang, twirling around the studio.

  “Sweetheart, please don’t do a cartwheel,” Bill requested. “Your hair looks great that way.”

  “I’m tempted, but I won’t.”

  “You all look gorgeous,” Agony proclaimed yet again.

  “Three fine-looking couples,” Heartburn agreed.

  Danny came back into the room.

  “The makeovers were a wonderful idea, Danny,” Agony observed. “It’s given us all a little lift.”

  “That’s great. I’m so glad.” Danny looked at his watch. “It’s three o’clock now. I think we’re going to call it a day. I have to meet with the editors who will be getting the show ready tonight. When we get back from Albuquerque tomorrow, they’ll splice in the final scene from the balloon fiesta.”

  Regan could feel almost a collective inhalation of breaths.

  “Hard to believe, isn’t it?” Danny asked no one in particular.

/>   Yes, Regan thought.

  “Tonight we have Elsa and Barney’s dream date. The rest of you are free until three A.M. when we meet in the lobby for the flight to Albuquerque.”

  “Three A.M.?” Heartburn repeated with a frown.

  “Three A.M.,” Danny confirmed. “We’ll drive over to the studio complex to board Roscoe’s plane. It’s about an hour’s flight. We have a stretch limo to take us from the airport in Albuquerque out to the balloon field. We want to be there before the sun rises.”

  “Maybe we won’t go to bed,” Vicky said. “I don’t want to ruin my hair and makeup.”

  “You look so beautiful, we should go dancing. Dance the night away until it’s time to fly away,” Chip said tenderly.

  I’m going to gag, Regan thought.

  “Do whatever you want,” Danny told them. “Just be in the lobby at three A.M., dressed in whatever you think is appropriate for renewing your vows.”

  “Except,” Regan chimed in, “the women should not wear long dresses. When the balloon lands, we’ll all be tumbling out of the basket.”

  “And the winners will have a million-dollar check in their hands!” Agony cried.

  Suzette ran to do a cartwheel but stopped herself. “I almost lost my head.” She laughed.

  It’s getting to be that otherworldly time, Regan thought. The time when these six realize how drastically their lives could change within the next twenty-four hours. When imaginations start going wild at the thought of having a million dollars minus taxes in hand. Who will be the lucky two? she wondered.

  65

  T hey made it an early dinner with Elsa and Barney. Everyone wanted to get back early because the wake-up calls were going to be coming in at an ungodly hour. At Carlotta’s the maitre d’ was once again thrilled to see Danny and his compatriots.

  “I have a special table for you,” he joked as he led them to the private room upstairs.

  Elsa seemed very interested in Agony and Heartburn’s life as advice columnists. “That must make you feel so good,” she said. “To know that you’re helping people.”

  “Oh, yes,” Agony exclaimed. “It’s a wonderful feeling.”

  “Is your column on the Internet?” Elsa asked.

  “Yes, it is,” Heartburn answered as he sniffed his red wine.

  “I’ll have to look for it there.”

  Why not look in the newspaper? Regan wondered. Agony and Heartburn had a ways to go to build their reputation, but they were certainly known in this area. She thought that Elsa and Barney lived in Nevada.

  When they got back to the hotel, it was ten o’clock. Regan went directly to her room and was so happy to peel off her clothes and put on a T-shirt. She washed her face, brushed her teeth, and fell back onto the bed. She then reached for the phone and ordered a wake-up call. An automated voice confirmed that Regan would be called at 2 A.M.

  The voice doesn’t even sound surprised, Regan chuckled to herself. Now what else before I turn out the light? Charge the cell phone. At that second it began to ring. She leaned over, grabbed her purse from the dresser, and fumbled for her phone. Finally she felt it and pulled it out.

  “Hello.”

  “So you’re not out rolling dice?” Jack teased.

  Regan smiled contentedly and lay back down on the bed. “One more day! Hey, it’s late in New York. You’re still up.”

  “I couldn’t sleep. And I was thinking about how much better tomorrow night will be than tonight. As long as you don’t fall in love with Uncle Heartburn or one of the contestants before then.”

  Regan laughed. “I don’t think there’s much chance of that. To think, though, that by tomorrow night I’ll have been to Albuquerque and back, and then on to Los Angeles.”

  The teasing note left Jack’s voice. “Hey, what time are you going to Albuquerque?”

  “We’re meeting in the lobby at three A.M.”

  “Three?”

  “Three.”

  “In that case I’ll let you get some sleep. I don’t want you to be totally zonked tomorrow night.”

  “Something tells me I won’t be.”

  “Something tells me you won’t be, either.” Jack laughed. “At least I hope not.”

  Friday, October 10

  66

  W hen the phone rang, Regan was stunned out of her slumber. In a complete fog she picked up the receiver.

  “Hello,” the same automated voice from the night before said. “This is your wake-up call. Good morning. It is now two o’clock. The temperature outside is—”

  Regan dropped the phone back in its cradle. This is worse than I imagined it would be. Bleary-eyed, she got out of bed and hurried to turn on the shower. It was the only way to get her body moving. The shower didn’t make Regan feel as good as it did at, say, 7 or 8 A.M., but it certainly helped. Regan washed her hair, stepped out, dried off, and turned on the hair dryer. She was sure it was going to wake the dead. Why do hair dryers sound so much louder in the middle of the night? she wondered.

  Regan knew it was cold out there on these October ballooning mornings. Or at least she heard it was. When she looked at what she had to wear, she decided on a pair of jeans, a lavender polo shirt, and a long-sleeved sweater. She’d carry a quilted cotton jacket. Layering was big with balloonists, or so she’d been told. She wasn’t going to be on camera, so she didn’t have to dress for the occasion.

  When she saw the couples assembled in the lobby, they all looked as if they were going to a wedding. The three women had on cocktail dresses, and their husbands were wearing suits and ties. Despite their attempt to look festive, no one seemed happy. The tension among the couples was palpable.

  “I didn’t wash my makeup off last night,” Suzette told Regan. “It looked so great, I thought it would last through the balloon ride.”

  “Me, too,” Elsa said, grabbing Suzette’s hand a little too hard.

  But you had only “a little rouge,” Regan remembered. She then looked over at Vicky. It was obvious that her face also hadn’t been near running water since before the makeovers.

  Victor, Sam, and Danny were all sporting blue jeans. Good, Regan thought. I’m not underdressed for the Big Day.

  Victor had arranged for a large pot of coffee to be available to them in the lobby. There were even little mini-doughnuts.

  “You’re a prince,” Regan told him fervently as she poured herself a large cup of java.

  Victor turned to her and smiled a genuine smile. “Thank you, Regan. It’s going to be a long day. We may as well get the caffeine going.”

  A few minutes later the group piled into the van and drove down the Strip. The neon lights were still blinking, and people were walking around as if it were midday.

  That’s Vegas, Regan thought. It really is 24/7. She suddenly thought of what Honey had said about Elsa sitting at the Bellagio and reading a book at three in the morning. Could Honey have been mistaken? Regan glanced over at Elsa who was staring straight ahead.

  They rode in silence, eventually passing the main entrance of the Balloon Channel complex on their way to a private road that led to the airstrip. The parking lot of the complex was dark, but there were a number of cars parked there. I wonder what’s going on, Regan thought.

  They boarded Roscoe’s plane, which seated twenty people. Regan sat with Danny toward the front. The pilot closed the door, locked it, and they took off into the night. It felt as if they were off on some secret mission.

  Agony and Heartburn had taken seats together in the back. Regan wondered if they’d made up their minds yet about who would win.

  When they landed, a white stretch limousine met them on the tarmac. Reminds me of prom night, Regan thought as the three couples in their dressy clothes got in. The others followed. It was still dark as the limo drove out of the airport and onto the highway. When the driver took the exit for the balloon field, the traffic started to get heavy. Their limo had a special pass that gave them access to the parking lot closest to the balloon field. When th
ey were dropped off next to one of the entrance gates, the sun was just appearing on the horizon, and the air was calm but nippy.

  “Look at all this!” Elsa cried.

  The massive field was filled with people spreading out their balloons’ envelopes, preparing them for inflation. Danny took out a small piece of paper from his pocket and checked it. He pointed. “They’re supposed to be over this way.”

  The Love Above Sea Level group followed, taking in the sights as Sam recorded everything. All the special-shaped balloons would soon be springing to life. On the ground was everything from colorful cartoon characters to monsters to witches.

  The Jupiters were in the field, as excited as can be. Reporters from the local news stations were already there with television cameras, anxious for an interview with Danny and Aunt Agony and Uncle Heartburn. The “wedding cake” was laid out on the ground, ready for inflation.

  “We hear you’re doing a reality show,” the newscasters said to Danny.

  “Yes.” Danny smiled, pleased that this might actually be a reality. As Danny answered the reporters’ questions, Regan looked around. Her parents and Harry and Linda were making their way over. She hurried to them, excited to see familiar faces.

  “Regan!” Nora cried. “There you are!”

  “Hi, Mom, Dad.” Regan hugged her parents. “Harry, Linda, it’s so good to see you.”

  “We wouldn’t miss this.”

  “But we’re not going to get to see you for long,” Nora said with a sigh.

  “I know. I wish we could stay after the balloon ride. But we have to get back to Vegas so they can edit the footage from the fiesta. And something tells me that once the winners are announced, the other contestants aren’t going to be too interested in sticking around.”

  “Do you have any idea who’s going to win?” Harry asked.

  Regan rolled her eyes. “I haven’t a clue.”

  “Regan, you look tired,” Nora said with concern.