Weekends

by Lindy S Hudis

  "Huh?” Justin eyed Joe. “Now I'm really confused."

  "Family reunions are supposed to be confusing.” Beverly smiled sweetly at him. He grinned and leaned in closer to her, this not going unnoticed by the ever-watchful Angela.

  "Hey, I'm Jason and this is my twin brother Justin."

  "Peace.” Justin held up his two fingers in a ‘peace’ sign.

  "You guys are twins? Wow.” Paul shook hands with Jason.

  "I would have never guessed you two were twins. Your brother is so ... so well dressed.” Angela slurred, inebriated.

  "Angela!” Beverly scolded her. She turned her attention back to Justin “Sorry, she's drunk."

  "Is she a friend of yours?” Justin asked.

  "Yeah! I'm her friend.” Angela smirked, shooting Beverly a look.

  Joe sensed tension in the air. “So, everybody having a good time to far?” he asked the group.

  "I'm a little jet-lagged, but I'm okay.” Jason volunteered.

  "Yeah, me too.” Shauna piped up. A blonde, lame'-clad waitress approached the group to take drink orders. “How about a bottle of champagne, to celebrate. On me.” Joe pulled out his wallet.

  "On you? You got it!” Jason grinned.

  Joe ordered a bottle of the hotel's finest Dom Perignon, and asked for seven glasses. Angela ordered some coffee, she wanted to sober up and assess the situation going on between Beverly and Justin. They were being a little too friendly, and it caused her concern. Beverly was obviously attracted to him. Not that she was threatened by a man or anything; she just wanted to keep an eye on him.

  Justin watched the waitress as she sauntered away, her short skirt fluttering in the gentle wind. “Sure are a lot of blondes here in California. Very nice.” Justin dark eyes were twinkling.

  Beverly flushed. “No blondes in New York?"

  "Not like here. You know that song by the Beach Boys about California girls?” he asked. Justin grinned at her, cozily. Beverly blushed. Angela watched the whole exchange, brooding.

  Jason turned his attention to Joe. “You know, we have a name for guys like you in Philly."

  "Guys like me?” Joe asked.

  "Yeah, you're called an I'm-not-gay-or-anything.” Jason laughed.

  "A what?"

  "You see, I'm not gay or anything, but you are a really good-looking guy.” Jason teased.

  "Why thank you, Cousin Jason.” Joe pulled his chair closer to talk to Jason and Shauna. “I think my dad told me, are you the one in the FBI?” Joe questioned.

  "No, he is.” Jason pointed to Justin, who shrugged. Jason was always one with the sarcastic humor. Angela bit her tongue.

  "Oh, undercover huh?” Joe teased.

  "Yup, that's me.” Justin rolled his eyes. His brother was always badgering him.

  The waitress approached the table with their bottle of champagne. Joe handed it to Jason. “Here, you do the honors."

  "Sure thing.” Jason opened the bottle with a minimal amount of the golden liquid spurting out. Everyone applauded. Seven glasses were filled and raised.

  "A toast to long-lost cousins.” Joe volunteered.

  "First cousins, third cousins, and friends.” Jason added. Everybody drank and chatted.

  Angela sipped her coffee. “No more for me, I've had enough,” she said morosely.

  "Yes, I know.” Beverly agreed.

  Angela was just about to make a catty retort, but something caught her eye down on the beach. She could barely make out the two figures taking a stroll in the sand. They almost looked like the two young women at dinner, the ones with the repugnant man who had caused such a vulgar scene. “Hey, Bev, look.” Angela pointed.

  "Look where?” Beverly turned and strained her eyes.

  "Down by the water. Isn't that those two girls from dinner?” Angela was almost sure it was.

  "Yeah, it is them. I wonder where Mr. Charming is.” Beverly could make them out now.

  "Maybe there is a NASCAR race on T.V. somewhere.” Justin bantered.

  Beverly didn't laugh. She really wanted to find those young women and talk to them, maybe help them find a shelter. They obviously were not from around here. She looked over at Angela, who was now starting to sober up. “Let's go down and talk to them.” Beverly got out of her chair.

  "Beverly, don't bother. They probably don't even want help.” Angela shrugged.

  "I can't just sit here and let this happen. Are you going to come with me or not?” she asked her lover, eyes gleaming.

  "Your on your own this time, kiddo. Count me out.” Angela took a sip of her coffee.

  "You want to go down to the beach with me? I just want to introduce myself to those young girls. You know, just go say hello.” Beverly turned to Justin. Angela scowled.

  "Sure, let's go.” Justin got up and accompanied Beverly to the elevator.

  "Jesus! Bev, you have no business sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. God, you can be so brainless!” Angela snapped, not liking that Justin was going with her one bit.

  "Fuck off, Angela.” Beverly stormed out.

  "You're wasting your time, Miss. Bleeding Heart.” Angela called after them. She watched as they disappeared into the elevator together, and held back tears. She would never lose her lover to a man, never. That was not possible.

  Joe glanced over at Angela. He saw the whole exchange. Joe had a suspicion that she and Beverly were more than friends, but was not sure and didn't dare to ask. Now he was positive. No ‘friend’ would carry on like that. He thought about going over to talk to her, but she didn't look too inviting.

  Angela sat with her arms folded and legs crossed. Were she and that guy going to fuck tonight? Was she really going to lose her lover to some cock? Right now she just wanted to go back to the room, but Paul would be there and she did not feel like dealing with him, or any man for that matter. She hated men, all of them.

  * * * *

  The bar was dark and empty, just as the man had found it hours before. He had finished with that dumb cunt, Brianna and now was back for more action. He ordered a beer from the bartender and wondered where the other cocktail waitresses were. To his disappointment, he did not see any. Maybe all the sluts were on a break or something. He thought. He just may have to resort to meeting somebody at the hotel. He glanced over in time to see another patron amble in. He was an ill-natured sort of a man, wearing dirty jeans and an awful, orange cap. He ordered a Budweiser with a thick hillbilly accent—and without a “please.” He looked as if he had not bathed in weeks, and had a pronounced body odor. He sat down on a stool next to the man and nodded.

  "Howdy.” Donnie acknowledged him, and he nodded back. He seemed friendly enough, just a little unkempt. They both glanced over at the television, which was featuring bikini-clad models in a soft drink commercial, dancing seductively around a swimming pool. Donnie snarled in the direction of the T.V. “Whores, they's all whores."

  "Pardon me?” the man looked at Donnie.

  "Women, I hate them. They should all be destroyed.” Donnie told him.

  The man smiled. “I couldn't agree more, my friend."

  He held out his hand. “I'm Donnie McCoy, from Blue Mountain, Mississippi."

  "Hi, I'm John Smith, from Chicago.” The man introduced himself.

  "Nice to make your acquaintance, John Smith.” Donnie tipped his hat.

  "Likewise. Are you a guest at this hotel?” John asked.

  "Yup, I'm here for a stupid family reunion. Family business ya’ know?” Donnie chugged his beer.

  John's eyes widened. “The one going on at the hotel right now?"

  "Yup, you gonna be attendin’ it too?"

  "Oh, no, I'm here on business, I just saw the signs for it in the lobby, that's all. You know, the signs that say ‘Family Reunion Dinner at eight'.” John said.

  "Yeah, I went to that dinner, it stank worse than a dead skunk on a summer day."

  "I can imagine.” the man nodded in agreement.

  "So, what do ya’ think of Califo
r-nee?” Donnie asked him.

  "California? It's pretty boring. The girls are okay though.” the man expressed indifference.

  "I hear they's all whores out here."

  "Well, I've only been here a day, and I've gotten laid already.” John Smith bragged.

  Donnie was mesmerized “You got laid today? When?"

  "Earlier."

  "Can I meet her, can I have some?” Donnie asked frantically.

  "No, she left already. She had to catch a plane back to Miami."

  "So, what are ya’ plannin’ on doing for fun while you're here, John?” Donnie probed him.

  "I was just looking for some ... Fun I mean."

  Donnie cackled “Oh, you lookin’ to get laid! Shit, I got me a wife and kid in tow."

  "You can still get laid, I'm married too. See how I'm not wearing my ring?” the man held up his hands.

  Donnie continued to guffaw loudly, sounding like a farm animal. “You dog!” he shrieked.

  "Screw your wife. I know I would.” the man sneered. Both dissolved into fits of laughter.

  "I'm game to findin’ some broads. Let's get some pussy.” Donnie chugged the last of his beer.

  "Where though?” the man pointed out the empty bar.

  "Shit, this hotel is full of pussies, let's go and find some. Get ‘em drunk and all."

  John Smith shook his head. “That doesn't always work. You gotta have a plan B."

  "Plan B? What the hell?” Donnie looked shocked.

  "Yes, you see, there is this really neat trick I have.” the man explained.

  "Really?” the man had Donnie's full attention.

  "Sure, wanna know about it?"

  "If it will get me laid on a regular basis."

  "Oh, it will.” the man nodded, knowingly.

  "Well, tell me boy! Tell me.” Donnie could hardly control his excitement.

  The man shook his head. “I can't. I have to show you."

  "Well, show me then."

  "We have to have a girl first.” the man downed the rest of his drink.

  "Then shit, let's go find some. I wanna know your ‘get laid’ plan."

  "It never fails! You have to promise that you keep it a secret, though.” the man had a corruptive look on his face.

  "Oh, my lip is zipped.” Donnie told him, seriously.

  A new recruit into the elite brotherhood of destroying the enemy. This guy was going to be a quick learner, too. Even though this guy was a little bit older, it's never too late to learn new tricks, John thought.

  "As we say down in Mississippi, let's do it!"

  "Let's go.” John Smith got up from his barstool, Donnie enthusiastically followed his lead. And with that, the two of them got up to go search for the ladies.

  * * * *

  It was a picture of them on their wedding day. Both were clad in simple, but elegant wedding attire, with the bride and groom going barefoot. It was an outdoor wedding, in the garden of her parents’ beautiful Southern mansion. They were young, and very much in love. He was kissing her cheek as she threw the bouquet. The picture brought back memories, and tears stung Stephen's eyes as he handed it to Andrew.

  They were married in her hometown of Jackson, Mississippi. Linda was the epitome of Southern Belle, elegant, beautiful, and warm. All who met her fell in love with her. The two of them met right out of college, when she came to New York to apply for a job at the same engineering firm where Stephen worked. He interviewed the recent graduate from Ole Miss, and was charmed. He hired her as a receptionist right away. The customers loved her friendly attitude, and it didn't take long for Stephen to fall under her spell. The two fell in love and were married six months later.

  After a year, son Michael came along. Four years after that, daughter Shauna. They were wonderfully happy and lived a modest life in Upstate New York. It was that horrible day one year ago, when Stephen's world came crashing down around him. He came home to find his beautiful wife dead in the bathtub, an apparent drowning. The police called her death an accident, but Stephen was doubtful.

  Stephen and Andrew continued going over old family pictures. One in particular stood out. It was a picture of Donnie on Stephen and Linda's wedding day. Donnie was in the background, while Linda was lovingly feeding Stephen wedding cake. Donnie had a nasty scowl on his face, like he resented the attention Linda was getting on her day. Linda was the respectable of the two siblings. Donnie was always jealous, as Linda was obviously the favorite—a college graduate, bright, articulate, and attractive, Donnie was the opposite.

  The first time he got in trouble with the law was when he was fifteen. He and his friends were dropping acid, and decided to go through the car wash. They started to hallucinate, and thought the car washing machines were gargantuan monsters trying to kill them. They leapt from the car, grabbed the guns that his delinquent friends had with them, and began to open fire on the car wash. The police were called, and Donnie taken to the juvenile detention center. Being a minor, and a first time offender, he was given only probation. It was only downhill after that for the loser. He had just served a three-year prison sentence for driving while intoxicated.

  He had a daughter, Lilly, who has been in and out of foster care almost all of her sad life. Shauna and Michael had never met their Uncle Donnie, and Stephen had no intention of introducing them. Stephen knew in his heart of hearts that his disgusting brother-in-law had something to do with his wife's death.

  Andrew thought so to. Kathy was devastated to learn of her cousin's demise. Kathy and Linda were very close. They grew up together in Mississippi, as Kathy's parents were killed in a plane crash when she was two. Being a former police officer, Andrew had a gut feeling about Donnie McCoy, and it was not a nice one. Even though he didn't want to mention it, Andrew also had a feeling about Stephen's son Michael. There was something about that young man that was not quite right. Oh well, Andrew thought, it's not against the law to be weird.

  "Donnie thinks I'm responsible for him going to prison.” Stephen told Andrew.

  "How does he come to that conclusion?” Andrew asked.

  "He's crazy, irrational. Says it's my fault he started drinking.” Stephen shook his head.

  "We are dealing with a regular nutcase here."

  "Tell me about it.” Stephen flipped through more photos.

  "Look, Steve, I need proof that Donnie was involved before I can get the proper paperwork to get Linda's body exhumed. Then we can do a forensic test to see if any traces of poison were present in her body at the time of her death.” Andrew explained.

  "Why can't we just do it now?” Stephen protested.

  "We need a reason to go dig up a body, man.” Andrew told him. Stephen nodded.

  "How do we get proof that Donnie was involved? There was no evidence at the crime scene?” Stephen asked, intently.

  "There isn't any now, not after a year. All we can do is catch him in a criminal act, then we can re-open Linda's case. It had been determined an accident."

  "We both know that's not true.” Stephen shook his head.

  "I know, but we can't go to a judge and tell her we think Donnie did it. We have to have a reason to throw his sorry ass back in jail.” Andrew explained to Stephen.

  "He drinks like a fish, you saw him at the dinner."

  "You can't arrest somebody for being a drunk, rude jerk.” Andrew said wittingly.

  "Let's just keep an eye on him this weekend. If I know him well enough, I'm sure he will do something awful.” Stephen thought out loud.

  "I'm sure he will too, and I'll be right here when he does.” Andrew confided, knowing he was right.

  * * * *

  Justin and Beverly trotted barefoot out onto the moonlit beach. It was dark and hard to see. The lights from the hotel illuminated the beach slightly, but not enough to see in the distance. The two girls were nowhere to be found.

  "Come on, let's take a walk. They couldn't have gone too far.” Justin beckoned Beverly with his hand.

  "Thank you for
doing this with me.” Beverly looked at him, seriously.

  "Hey, no problem. When your dad is a cop and your brother is in the FBI, you learn how to feel sympathy for people.” Justin's curly hair was waving in the cool ocean breeze.

  "Your dad was a cop?” Beverly looked at him, noticing the muscles in his neck.

  "Philadelphia's chief-of-police for seven years. He was the chief when all those riots were going on. He wrote a book about it.” Justin picked up a seashell, examined it, and threw it into the ocean.

  "Riots? I thought only California had riots.” she exclaimed surprised.

  "Oh, no. People go nuts everywhere.” Justin picked up another seashell, and held it in his hand.

  They continued to amble slowly down the beach, the waves gently rolling over their feet. “So how come you didn't go into law enforcement?” Beverly splashed her feet in the waves. A tiny hermit crab scurried away.

  "I was at Julliard.” Justin looked at her, his nose ring twinkling in the moonlight.

  "When were you at Julliard?” Beverly asked, impressed.

  "Which time?” Justin kicked at some seaweed. They were quite a ways from the hotel now, the screech of the seagulls and the crash of the waves being the only sounds they heard.

  "You were there more than once?” Beverly picked up a seashell, and rubbed off the sand.

  "I was there for the first time when I was six."

  "Child prodigy?"

  "Something like that.” Justin hung his head, sincerely modest about his amazing talent.

  "Wow, that's incredible."

  "I went again when I was eighteen."

  "Why the big gap?” Beverly looked at his strong arms, and wondered what it would feel like being enveloped in them.

  "My dad wanted me to be a normal kid. He had me take karate with my brother."

  "You know karate?"

  "Yup, third degree black belt—Jason too.” Justin noticed that she seemed to be glowing in the moonlight. He enjoyed talking to her, especially when she smiled at him.

  "You really are a gifted person. I just have a psych degree from U.C.S.D."