by Brynne Asher
“Shut up, Tony,” Charlotte spits out at me. “Nothing says the eighties like ET. These are great costumes.”
“I told you people would say that,” Vic says to Charlotte.
“Where’s Leigh?” I ask not only to find Leigh but to move on from this conversation.
“Why are you in a suit?” Vic asks, ignoring my question.
Frustrated with my client, my case, my night, this party and wanting to find Leigh, I run my hand through my hair while biting out, “I’m Ronald Regan. Now where’s Leigh?”
Vic’s face screws up, “You’re Ronald Regan?”
“You should carry a jar of jelly beans. Without the jelly beans you’re just a guy in a suit,” Charlotte chides.
“Did you bring Gorbachev?” Vic asks, smiling big.
Frustrated with every fucking thing right now, I repeat, “Have you seen Leigh or not?”
“I think she’s in the kitchen,” Charlotte says.
Vic continues to laugh, puts his arm around his wife and looking down at her says, “Okay, I gotta hand it to you baby, ET is way better than Ronald Regan.”
“Fuck,” I mutter as I turn to head toward the kitchen.
I see Jude with his back to me standing next to Lanny and my cousin Grant. Jude is wearing a Joe Montana 49ers jersey and a pair of jeans. Lanny and Grant look like twins with coveralls and some kind of packs on their backs.
I move in next to Jude, but ask Grant, “What’s with the jetpack?”
“Dude,” Grant says as he steps back holding his arms out looking at me like I’m an idiot. “We’re Ghostbusters. I was a baby in the eighties and even I know Ghostbusters.”
But I can’t focus on Grant because I hear her voice, but it’s much louder and higher pitched than normal. I look toward the kitchen table and see the back of Leigh’s head. Her golden blonde hair which is normally sleek and soft is crimped and out to there, pulled up in a big black crooked bow on the side of her head. Her arms, covered in lace gloves with the fingers cut out, are thrown up in the air and she yells, “Bulls eye!” Then she points across the table to someone continuing to yell, “You drink!”
“Man,” Jude says from beside me. “They’re trashed.”
I look over at Jude muttering, “No shit?”
I hear Gabby clapping where she’s sitting next to Leigh at the kitchen table as Jude goes on, “They’ve been playing quarters for an hour. I’ve been trying to figure out how to get Gabby outta here. If she goes on much longer she’ll be sick and that won’t be any fun.”
Before I can answer or think about how to remove Leigh from the quarters game myself, I’m hit full on from the side.
“Hey brotha! Have a beer,” Paige says.
I turn my head to look down at my little sister, way taller than her normal short self as she’s shoving a red plastic cup of beer in my chest. I take the beer, brace as she pushes off me and I realize she’s rolling.
She does a three-sixty informing me in a very tipsy voice, “You missed the crab stuffed mushrooms. They’re all gone, but I think there are some spicy meatballs left. You love those.”
Paige is on roller skates with tall white socks up to her knees with red stripes around the top. Her top is smaller than small, tied in a knot half way up her torso barely covering her and she’s wearing tight red short-shorts piped in white stripes around the edges. She frizzed out her normally wavy hair into a white girl afro and she looks to be as drunk as everyone else.
Ignoring the food, I frown down at my little sister, “What the hell, Paige? Your ass is hanging out of those shorts.”
She frowns and twists looking down, as if she can see her own ass while she spins in another circle, exclaiming, “My ass is not hanging out of these shorts.”
“The hell it’s not,” I say.
Before Paige has a chance to argue with me, I hear, “Hey, Tone.”
I look away from my little sister’s over the top slutty roller skater costume, not liking the way she’s dressed, back to the kitchen table to see Leigh twisted around in her chair. Her makeup is heavy but her face is bright and hell if she doesn’t have a look on her face like she’s fucking happy to see me. I feel my gut tighten at the look on her face, forget about my sister and make my way to Leigh.
Her eyes follow me as I get closer, her head tipping back so as not to lose our contact and she smiles big at me.
I lean down, cup the back of her head in my hand and kiss her, saying, “You having fun?”
She says brightly, “Yes, but I missed you.”
“Missed you too, gem.”
“Holy shit, my cousin can be sweet,” I hear from the side and look over to Gabby, who’s smiling big at us.
“Hey, Gabba.”
“Hey, Ronnie,” she grins drunkenly.
I shake my head as Leigh informs me slurring her words, “I rock at quarters, honey. But somehow I’m still really drunk. You wanna play with us?”
“No,” I grin back at her.
“Come on, I’m really good,” she squeaks. “We can be a team, Madonna and the President.”
“Sweetheart, maybe you should take a break,” I suggest.
Her bright eyes looked shocked at my suggestion and she almost pouts, “But I think I’m gonna win.”
“Leigh, everyone wins at quarters,” I say.
“No really, Tony. I’m pretty sure I’m gonna be the champion of all things quarters,” she says. “Hey, I wonder if they have that song? The song about the champions? Was that the eighties?” she keeps rattling off questions.
“It’s by Queen,” I hear Paige yell from the other side of the kitchen. “We Are The Champions.”
“I love that song!” Leigh exclaims. “Is it from the eighties?”
“I have no idea,” I say smiling down at her. I hold my hand out for her, “Come with me to find some food, I’m hungry.”
“Oh, all right,” then she looks to Gabby. “Hold my spot. We’re gonna get some food.”
“Gotcha girlie,” Gabby promises as she tries and misses to bounce another quarter into a shot glass having to take a big drink.
I pull Leigh up to stand and she’s almost eye to eye with me. I let my eyes travel down from her face to her chest where she’s wearing a tiny tank top leaving very little to the imagination. Then I let my eyes wander further to see a black netted skirt barely covering her ass because it almost stands straight out with lace tights that come down to her ankles topped off with spiked high heels. I drag my eyes up her legs that seem to go on further than forever in those shoes.
“Honey,” she calls.
I pull my eyes back up to hers and I can tell by the look on her drunk face she knows what I’m thinking. And I’m thinking we’re going to leave soon to get home. I want Madonna all to myself.
“Tony,” she calls again.
I put my hand to her waist and pull her to me, kissing her faster than I want to and say, “Let’s get some food. Then we can go.”
With bigger eyes, she says, “We can’t leave yet, you just got here. What about Joe?”
I look over to my cousin standing with a group of his friends, laughing and talking loudly, “Trust me, Joe won’t care.”
I take her hand and pull her to the food, hearing Jude and Gabby following us. I fill a plate with the dregs of the buffet as Leigh pokes around the food eating off the platters.
I smile and say, “Hungry, gem?”
“Mm-hmm,” she answers after popping a chocolate covered cream puff in her mouth.
“Oh my. The room is spinning,” I hear Gabby slur.
“Shit. I knew it,” Jude mutters as he puts his arm around her, Gabby leaning into him while closing her eyes.
“Oh no, are you okay?” Leigh asks loudly with her mouth full.
Gabby puts her hand up to her head, like that’s going to keep it from spinning and chokes out, “I don’t think so. I was fine sitting there but once I stood up the room started moving.”
“Come on, sugar,” Jude says, sounding
exasperated with his new wife as he pushes her toward the front door trying to get her outside.
I hear a giggle from my side and I see Leigh trying to hold back her laughter as she bites down on a big Frito chip full of bean dip.
“How long were you all playing quarters?” I ask her.
“I dunno,” she says, pausing to swallow. “We played mini-pong before that. But I wasn’t nearly as good at that as I was quarters.”
“What’s mini-pong?” I ask as she stuffs another chip with dip in her mouth.
“Kinda like beer pong. I think they just made it up. We used empty Dixie cups and we didn’t share drinks because that’s gross and germy.”
“Germy?”
She swallows another bite and grins at me saying, “Yeah, germy. But, I’d share a drink with you.”
I smile back at her, “You would, would you?”
“Mm-hmm,” she hums her answer again and then smiles big. “I’m thinkin’ I kinda like your germs, Tony Carpin-O.”
I smile, shake my head at her and say while tossing my plate to the table, “Let’s go.”
“But, what if they start a new game?” she asks in a high voice.
Taking her hand, I pull her toward the door while looking back at her and say, “Maybe we can play strip poker at home, gem.”
“Ha!” she bursts. “That’s funny!”
“I’m not being funny, sweetheart. I’ve had a long day and I’m ready to share my germs with Madonna.”
She giggles even louder as we head out the door and I hear her before I see her. Looking to my right, I see Gabby bent over a bush with Jude holding back her big eighties hair with one hand and rubbing her back with the other. He looks over at us and doesn’t say anything, just shakes his head back and forth with a resigned look on his face.
I hear Gabby spit and then whine, “I think I ruined my new sweatshirt.”
I look over at Leigh who’s looking at her friend puking in the shrubs, but her body is shaking with laughter.
“Shut up, Leigh,” Gabby slurs as she stands up, wiping her mouth on the back of her arm. “They didn’t have any more like it at the thrift store. It’s one of a kind.”
“Are you going to get sick, too?” I ask Leigh.
She looks back to me with big eyes and says with a serious but still drunk face, “I hope not. I like my new outfit.”
I shake my head and look to Jude saying, “Good luck with that, man. See ya later.”
“Yeah, we’ll see you later, new-ly-weds! The honeymoon couldn’t last forever!” Leigh yells still laughing as I drag her to my car. But then she whispers loudly, “Oh shit. I’m going to wake up Rosa.”
“Who’s Rosa?” I ask, as I pull the seatbelt around her to buckle her in.
“My new friend. I’m going to do the texting with her. Maybe we can have her over soon and you can meet her. I think she’ll love Finny and she wants to know all about you.”
I pull out of the neighborhood to make the short drive home and ask, “She wants to know about me?”
“Yep,” she answers, as her knees bounce to the music playing low in the car. “I love Train. Do you like them?”
“Train?” I ask for clarification, because I’m pretty sure we’re listening to Matchbox Twenty.
“Yeah, honey. The band, Train. I think they’re the happiest of all the bands, ever. I mean, even if they’re singing a breakup song, it’s still cute and happy. That’s talent if you ask me. Bein’ able to sing a happy breakup song that everybody sings along with and it doesn’t even sound like a breakup song. And don’t even get me started on their real happy-happy songs that aren’t even breakup happy songs. They’re awesome,” she sighs, ending her crazy explanation of why she loves a band she obviously thinks we’re listening to but we’re not.
“I can’t argue with that,” I smile as I pull into my garage next to Leigh’s silly blue car. At least her car is small enough I still have more than enough room for my Harley.
I meet her at the front of my car as she stumbles around the hood holding her shoes in her hand. We head into the house, Leigh going to the alarm panel and I go to Fin’s kennel where he’s yelping to get out.
“Finny,” Leigh calls and he goes right to her where she crouches low to greet him.
“Come on, buddy. Let’s go outside,” I call for him and he instantly runs to the back door. I’ve gotta hand it to him, he’s a pretty smart dog. He’s only been with us for a week and it’s like he’s been with us forever.
I hear clanking and turn around to look back into the kitchen. Leigh has shed her tiny sweater, net skirt and leggings, all lying on the kitchen floor at her feet. She’s pulling off her jewelry, letting it clank on the granite. Her hands go to her head yanking out the bow letting her hair fall down her back in a big eighties mess.
“I’m sorry you missed the party, Tone,” one side of her mouth tips up and she starts walking to me in nothing but her tank and a black pair of panties. “I could have had drunk sex with the President.”
She reaches me and her hands immediately go to the lapels on my suit jacket pulling it off my shoulders and I say, “Only one of us needs to be drunk to have drunk sex.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Oh good,” she says, yanking my tie loose. “Because I think I’m a little drunk.”
“I agree,” I say, smiling down at her reaching my hands around to her ass to pull her to me.
“Can I take your shirt off?” she asks even though she’s already unbuttoning it.
“Sweetheart, you can do whatever you want.”
Her hands still at the buttons on my shirt and she looks up at me with heated eyes. But instead of saying anything, she surges up on her toes slamming her mouth hard against mine. Her arms round my neck to hold on tight and I put one hand in her hair to hold her to me. She thrusts her tongue in my mouth and moans.
With her hands in my hair, she pulls back and her heated eyes roam my face as she says, “You always want me to have what I want. I love that about you, Tony.”
My body, working on its own accord, stills and I feel my fingers tense in her hair and on her ass.
“What?” I ask.
Her eyes catch mine and she repeats breathily, “I love that about you Tony. I think I love everything about you.”
“You love everything about me?” I barely get out.
“Yes, honey. Everything,” she breathes.
She tries to lift up to kiss me again, but I put both hands to her ass and lift her. She yelps in surprise, her legs rounding my waist and hangs on while I stride to my bedroom with her in my arms. I turn the corner, walk to the side of my bed and put her down. I whip off her tank and then her bra. She hooks her thumbs to the hips of her panties to drag them down her legs. Unbuttoning my shirt, I pull it off while reaching to my nightstand for a condom tossing it on the bed.
“You don’t know how bad I wanted to take you in the kitchen, gem. I can’t wait to get rid of these things,” I mutter.
“Tony--” she starts but I interrupt her by cradling her face in my hands and demand, “You love me?”
She doesn’t answer but she blinks slowly. I feel her body pull in a breath of air but she still doesn’t say anything.
“Do you love me, Leigh?” I demand again.
“How could I not love you, Tony?”
“Gem,” I start, my voice dipping and my fingers tensing in her scalp. “Do you love me?”
She lets out her lungful of air and closes her eyes slowly. Finally opening them, she says, “Yes. Yes, I love you.”
Chapter 18 - You Love Me
I think my heart might beat out of my chest. He’s looking down at me with hooded eyes while still cupping my face in his hands perfectly, just like he always is with me. Perfect.
“You love me,” he repeats, his voice rough and husky.
I pull my hands up to his forearms to hold on tight say quietly, “Yes.”
His eyes sweep my face before narrowing a
bit as he tips his head and asks, “How drunk are you?”
“Well,” I start, because I am drunk but I’m not too drunk that I’m saying anything I don’t mean or feel. I’ve known I love Tony for so long now but never had the courage to tell him. I step closer and press my bare body up against his bare chest, also loving the feel of him against my skin and go on to evaluate my drunkenness, “Kind of medium to medium-high drunk. But I mean it, honey. I’m not too drunk that I’m saying things I don’t mean, I think I’m just drunk enough to finally say things I do mean. Do you know what I mean?”
“You love me,” he says again as his hands fall from my face, making their way down my neck to my breasts where he cups me with both hands. I feel a shiver through my body and my nipples immediately go hard where he’s brushing them back and forth with his thumbs.
“Yes,” I say as I let out a breath and try pushing my chest into his hands for more. He immediately rolls my nipples and gives them a perfectly hard but gentle tug.
“You love me,” he repeats, letting his hands fall from my breasts.
Even I can hear the protest in my exhale but he doesn’t let me go. His hands make their way down my body, one dipping between my legs and the other to my ass keeping me close to him. His fingers slide through me making me jerk a bit, but he holds me tight with his other hand at my bottom.
“Yes,” I huff again, not really knowing if I’m answering his question or wanting him to know how much I like what he’s doing to me. I hope he knows I mean both.
I look up into his eyes and the side of his mouth tips up, “Sweetheart, I would have gotten you drunk a long time ago had I known this is all it would take for you to tell me how you feel.”
“Sorry,” I mutter, because I am but would really like him to quit talking.
I hear him puff out a single chuckle when I hear him ask, “You want to have drunk sex?”
“Well, I wanna do something,” I mumble as I try and press harder into his hand where his fingers are still lightly playing between my legs.
I hear him chuckle for real this time and he says while turning me so he has his back to the bed, “Okay, but only because you love me, gem.” He sits at the side of the bed and says, “Climb on, sweetheart.”
