Gigolo Girl

by Layce Gardner

  “San Francisco? You mean… they’re gay?”

  Greta nodded.

  “And they’re together?” Desiree asked. “I thought he ran off with the preacher’s daughter.”

  “The preacher’s daughter was a what-you-call-it… his beard. She just wanted out from under her daddy’s thumb. She shaved her head and lives in Arizona selling pottery out of the back of a van. She’s happy,” Greta said, slipping off the garter. “My daddy and his daddy ran off on the same day. But nobody including Floyd knows about them. Can you just hold onto this thing? It’s itching me something fierce.” She handed Desiree the garter.

  “How do you know about it?”

  “Daddy wrote me a letter. He didn’t like just running off and leaving me alone with Mama and her dying spells so he told me what happened. He wires money into my savings account every month. Mama doesn’t know about it or she’d spend it on medicine.”

  “Oh.”

  “Mildred knows all about it, of course. But you can’t ever tell Floyd. He’s not homophobic or anything like that, but his mama is telepathic or something. She’d see it written in his brain. ‘Sides I told him his daddy is alive and well and he accepts that.”

  “That’s good. But I still don’t get how this applies to me and Mildred.”

  “Meaning she knows about people running off. She’s counting on you showing up some time or another and she’s willing to wait. And now you’re showing up—just like she figured on. Well, not exactly how she figured on, but that’s a minor detail. You just wait and see. Mildred is going to be so happy!”

  Desiree wasn’t so sure.

  The organ music began to play. “Oh my God, that’s our cue!” Desiree said. “I don’t know if I can do this. I’m so nervous!”

  “Are you going to be okay?” Greta asked.

  “You don’t have another Imodium, do you?

  Wedding Bells

  Greta squeezed Desiree’s hand. They were standing at the end of the aisle, awaiting the start of The Wedding March. “It’s show time,” Desiree whispered. She was so nervous that her knees were actually knocking.

  “It’s all going to work out fine, you’ll see.” Greta plastered on a big smile that showed all her teeth.

  “Are you saying that for me or for you?” Desiree asked, squeezing her lips together so that all the people who were now focused on them didn’t know they were talking. She felt like Jeff Dunham the ventriloquist.

  “Both of us,” Greta said, through equally clenched teeth.

  The Wedding March began to play, but Greta didn’t move so much as a muscle.

  “What’s wrong?” Desiree muttered.

  “Oh, for the love of God,” Greta sighed dramatically. She leaned her head against Desiree’s shoulder.

  Desiree thought Greta was going to faint. “What? What’s wrong? Are you having cold feet?” Desiree asked with her voice filled with concern.

  “Floyd’s mother,” Greta moaned.

  “You mean the giant hot pink lady that’s dressed as a flamingo?”

  “All six foot four of her,” Greta said. She squinted down the aisle at Floyd who was waiting at the end. He mouthed the words, “I’m so sorry.”

  Greta nodded back at him. “Let’s go get this over with,” Greta said, straightening her shoulders like a soldier marching off to war.

  “You’re supposed to be overjoyed,” Desiree said. “Or at least mildly happy. It is your wedding day, you know.”

  The organist was now pounding on the organ keys as a cue for them to get their feet moving.

  “I’ll be happy later,” Greta said. “Right now I want to get this over with.”

  That was when Desiree saw Mildred turn around. Their eyes met. Mildred’s face showed more emotion in the next five seconds than a silent film star. Desiree watched as Mildred’s face went from surprise to anger to sadness to joy and back to anger before her face shut down.

  Desiree almost backed out the church door, but Greta began to drag her down the aisle, step by ponderous step. Luckily, Greta had such a firm grip on Desiree she couldn’t cut and run.

  Desiree didn’t dare look at Mildred for fear of what she’d see written on her face this time. Halfway down the aisle, Floyd’s mother whipped around to stare at the bride and nailed Greta in the solar plexus with her stuffed and seriously reinforced flamingo head.

  Greta, not expecting to be pecked in the chest by a giant pink bird, went down like a sack of potatoes. The only noise she made was a high squeaky sound like a balloon leaking air. Desiree caught her only inches before she hit the floor. The wind was knocked out of her, but it only took two more go-rounds of The Wedding March before Greta regained her breath and her balance.

  Escorted on one side by Desiree and the other by Floyd, Greta managed to stand before the preacher. Thank goodness for the veil. It mostly hid the tears streaming down her face. Whether the tears were from pain or happiness, Desiree had no idea. She left Floyd to bolster Greta up and moved to the first pew and sat.

  Floyd glared at his mother who only shrugged her apology as if things like this happened on a regular basis.

  While the preacher droned, Desiree finally chanced another look at Mildred. Mildred was still standing in the bridesmaid position. Her eyes stayed on the bride but her mouth gaped open then closed, open then closed. Desiree sincerely hoped that between the flamingo head incident and Mildred’s mouth looking like a goldfish the wedding photographer had the good sense not to be taking pictures.

  Floyd looked like the happiest guy on the planet as he put the ring on Greta’s finger.

  “You may now kiss the bride!” the preacher said to great applause from the audience.

  Floyd and Greta kissed and stepped off the podium. Women dabbed at their eyes with tissues and men looked on with sympathy as the newly wedded bride and groom started back down the aisle.

  Desiree didn’t know what to do. Should she exit with the wedding party? Should she go up to Mildred? Should she wait for Mildred to seek her out? What if Mildred walked up to her and slapped her? She felt she deserved to be slapped. She was about ready to slap her own self when Mildred spun on her heels and pinned Desiree with an unblinking stare. They were the only people left in the church. They stood twenty feet from each other, but to Desiree it felt like miles.

  “Mildred…” Desiree said. She didn’t know what else to say.

  Mildred asked, “Is it really you?”

  Desiree nodded. “It’s really me.”

  “You’re Diane?”

  Desiree nodded again.

  Mildred said, “Why did you leave me?”

  Desiree told the truth, “Because I love you.”

  “Why are you here?”

  Desiree told another truth, “Because I love you.”

  “Do you have anything else to say for yourself?” Mildred asked.

  This telling the truth thing was becoming a habit. “I love you,” Desiree said simply.

  Mildred walked toward Desiree. Desiree planted her feet and readied herself to be slapped. She scrunched her eyes closed and waited.

  The next thing she felt was Mildred’s soft lips pressed against her own. She pulled Mildred closer, closer, until she could feel Mildred’s heart beating against her own chest.

  It’s In Her Kiss

  Desiree and Mildred held hands as they walked toward the wedding reception, which was being held behind the church. The reception was Greta’s dream come true. There were white tents with white linen covered tables and white chairs. Caterers, all dressed in white, handed out champagne flutes from silver trays. The lawn was manicured to perfection and deer pranced about happily in the surrounding fields.

  “This is amazing,” Desiree said.

  “Greta has had this day planned ever since she was a little girl. Emerald Terrence, the town founder’s daughter, had a wedding just like this back in the 1920s. We went through all the town archives one summer when we were fourteen. Greta swore her wedding would be just like it.”<
br />
  “Well, I’d have to say she did it,” Desiree said. She snagged two flutes of champagne as the waiter went by. She handed one to Mildred.

  Mildred gazed into her eyes. “I knew I’d find you again,” she said.

  “You did?”

  “I just never figured on looking here.”

  “Then here’s to both our good fortunes and Greta’s divine intervention,” Desiree said, as they toasted.

  “Thank God that Honey Belle didn’t find you first,” Mildred added. “She’s still fit to be tied.”

  “I’m going to have to sort that out one day.”

  The band tuned up and the Hollies song, “It’s in Her Kiss” began to play.

  “Come on we’ve got to dance,” Desiree said.

  She took Mildred’s flute of champagne and her own and set them on the nearest table. She grasped Mildred’s hand and led her under the biggest tent to the dance floor.

  “Kiss me,” Desiree instructed as they swayed to the music.

  Mildred didn’t question the request. She kissed Desiree.

  “Yes, that is definitely it,” Desiree said, when they broke away.

  “What?”

  “I asked Floyd once when we were stocking the hunting section with blinds, guns, and ammo—I know not the most conducive place to talk about love—but I asked him how he knew that Greta was the one for him. And he said, ‘It was in her kiss.’ He knew the first time he kissed her that she was his one true love.”

  “Was that our test of true love?”

  “It was,” Desiree said and kissed her again.

  Greta and Floyd danced by. “Well?” Floyd said. “What’s the verdict?”

  Desiree gave him a big thumbs-up.

  Greta and Floyd whooped.

  One Month Later

  “You sure you don’t miss the bright lights, big city?” Desiree asked. Desiree and Mildred were sitting in lawn chairs near the lake’s edge in front of Desiree’s little cabin and drinking iced tea.

  “No, I don’t. But I do miss Cindy Lee,” Mildred said. She looked away, but not before Desiree saw her smirk.

  “You do not,” Desiree said, reaching over and tickling her side.

  “I miss her smiling face and kind demeanor,” Mildred said, squirming away.

  “Don’t forget her amazing customer service skills,” Desiree said.

  “Are you sure we should have sent her to Honey Belle? Cindy Lee is mean as a rattler. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.”

  “Oh, no worries, there’s no end to masochistic lesbians. Cindy Lee will be the belle of the ball in no time.”

  “Have you heard any more from Honey Belle?” Mildred asked.

  Desiree nodded. “Velvet Thrust has gotten soft. She’s taken over my business clients. Honey Belle says she looks great in a business suit and heels.”

  “Really?”

  “I know, hard to imagine. She and Fessa are still great friends, which is good. Candy Sweet is getting married in three months so we’ll have to go to the wedding,” Desiree said. She sipped her iced tea.

  “I’m worried about Cindy Lee subletting your apartment though. She’d kind of hard on stuff. Your furniture might end up in pieces.”

  “Oh, I didn’t leave her the furniture. I had Velvet Thrust sell it all. We can use that money to buy new stuff when and if you can decide on a house,” Desiree said, raising her eyebrow.

  “I’m thinking about it.”

  “Well, you better think hard because winter is coming. It’s going to get cold out here by the lake.”

  “I know. I just want it to be perfect. Home Sweet Home.”

  “We’ll make it that way,” Desiree said.

  Mildred sighed. “I feel a little guilty.”

  “About what?”

  “That my life is so perfect with you in it. I can’t help but wonder what I did to deserve it,” Mildred said.

  “You were you,” Desiree said.

  Mildred leaned over and kissed Desiree. “How about a little afternoon delight?” Mildred said.

  “Why, Mildred Pierce,” Desiree said with an exaggerated country accent. “Are you propositioning me?”

  “You know I am,” Mildred said with a chuckle.

  Desiree fanned herself and did her best Scarlet O’Hara impersonation. “I swear. The nerve of some people!”

  “You taught me everything I know,” Mildred said, popping out of her lawn chair. Desiree tried to catch her hand, but Mildred was faster. She skipped toward the cabin. “Come on, slow poke,” she called out over her shoulder.

  Desiree had never been happier. She raced up behind Mildred. “I love you,” she said. She picked Mildred up groom-holding-bride-over-the-threshold style and walked through the door of the cabin.

  “Show me how much you love me,” Mildred whispered.

  And Desiree did.

  The End

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  Check out the authors’ blogs at Laycegardner.com and Saxonbennett.wordpress.com