“Many thanks to Literotica author ‘englander1961′ for her help, editorial services, encouragement and a title much better than my original, which has elevated her to the status of House Goddess of Sexy Story Titles. Thanks to Sammi Scott, aka Titsy McYarn, the Cute at the Heart of the Abyss for her help and valuable critique. Thanks to Literotica author ‘KY ridgerunner’ for the stories that planted the idea in my head months ago. A belated and much overdue thanks to John Hasty for his peerless editing. Bounteous thanks to Kevin for his incredibly thorough critiquing and voluminous notes.
After you’ve read this, if you have any inclination at all to comment, please do so, either by email or on the comment board… The best way for me to grow and improve as an author is to hear from the people who read my work.
I welcome constructive critiques and non-abusive comments. I will answer, in at least a semi-prompt manner, any email that comes with an email address.
If you feel you must respond in a hateful or angry fashion, you may put your head down upon your desk and do so, quietly to yourself, for as long as you feel it necessary. This story may not be copied to other sites without my permission.
If you have not read the earlier installment(s) of this tale, it would probably help you to make sense of this one if you did so.”
* * * * *
After a time, Carol got up off the floor and very calmly removed another seventeen fifty-dollar bills, as well as five more sheaves of notes from albums. Then she returned the forceps to Eddy and knelt before Harry, eyes downcast.
“May I take all of you to supper this evening?” she asked.
“If you want to sweetie, of course you can. Any preference as to where?” Harry replied.
“I was hoping the Bangkok Inn might be acceptable to everyone.”
Everyone chimed in with agreement so Carol asked, “May I reserve the Vimanmek Palace room?”
“Certainly, my pet,” Margo answered, “I’ve been curious to see what it looked like ever since I heard the story of your first trip to the Bangkok Inn.”
As Carol padded off to make arrangements, Harry and Eddy went into consultation. Within minutes Harry was measuring the door and windows of the room while Eddy was getting dressed. Shortly thereafter Eddy was heading out the door, a set of measurements from Harry in his pocket.
A few hours later the room sported a new door frame, security door, and interior bars on the windows. Both keys to the new door were handed to Carol.
“Baby Girl, I’d recommend putting one of these on the chain with the whistle, the other somewhere only you know about,” Margo said.
“This is silly,” Carol responded. “The two of you should have the other key.”
“No,” Harry said, smiling. “You’re the lady of the house and the treasure in that room is yours.”
“Yes sir… but I’ll tell the two of you where the key is, just in case.”
“If you wish,” Margo said, “but that’s your decision.”
While the door and bars were being installed, Karen and Patricia had gone home to grab clothes for the evening and Kelly had driven Tamara to Eddy and Tamara’s apartment to do the same.
Because of their labors, Harry and Eddy were the last ones to hit the showers and prepare for the evening.
“Harry, sir, before you get in the shower I’d like to ask; could we possibly go by the Chateau de Chantilly after supper? I’d like to sit and listen to Bizoumet play for awhile. Maybe you and Margo, some of the others, could get in some dancing… in my head it’s sort of a wake for Tony.”
“Sweetie, no problem at all. All that I know of that’s on anybody’s schedule tomorrow is that Eddy and I are planning to set up your stereo equipment just the way you want it, and I have to go pick up Nikki at the airport in the evening. Why don’t you go check with the others? Is there anyone else you might like to invite?”
“Yes sir, there is, I’ll make some calls.” She paused then turned and leapt up, throwing her arms around his neck. She snuggled her face into his neck and kissed him. “Thank you sir.”
The rest of the crowd was more than amenable to the idea so Carol hopped on the phone while Eddy called Bizoumet to let them know they were coming and they were bringing a crowd.
Margo overheard the end of Carol’s side of one conversation.
“Yes, I’m serious. He meant as much to you as to anybody on Earth.”
“No, I don’t want that to happen, it could be… troublesome. Anyway you can avoid it?”
“Alright, as long as you have a plan… we should be there by ten.”
Margo fully expected a night of surprises.
* * * * *
Even though they’d been the last to get showered, in the time-honored tradition Harry and Eddy were the first to be ready. Harry was in a pair of dark blue chinos, with matching blazer and a cream shirt. Eddy was in a pair of black pinstripe slacks and a black dress shirt, his hair pulled tightly back into a ponytail. And as tradition dictated, they stood in the living room and waited patiently, or at least pretended to.
* * * * *
In the downstairs guest bedroom, Tamara put the finishing touches on her makeup, fastened the collar and leash she was slowly teaching Eddy to use upon her neck, and looked in the mirror. The satin kimono dress was such a deep shade of purple it almost seemed black. She smiled and bowed to herself in the mirror, her vaguely Kabuki style make-up helping to make the illusion complete. She put on a pair of suede strap sandals in the same color as the dress and twirled in place, imagining she was dancing with her love.
* * * * *
In the upstairs guest room, Karen waited most impatiently as Patricia made sure Karen’s outfit was just so.
“I’m still not sure, Liz,” Patricia said, chewing on a finger, “are you sure you want to go with the white cotton blouse? The copper silk blouse looks much better.”
“Will agreeing with you get us going any faster?”
“Oh yes.”
“Then the copper blouse it is.” Karen quickly shucked her dark brown leather blazer, pulled off the offending blouse and slipped on the copper one, tucking it into the tight leather pants that matched the blazer.
“God, I wish we’d had time to polish your boots,” Patricia said.
“Darling,” Karen said, slipping her hands up under her lover’s Victorian ruffle shirt to caress her breasts, “nobody will notice the condition of my boots once they see you.”
“Liz, stop that,” Patricia said, writhing away from her. She tucked the shirt under the beaded waist of her forest green ankle-length skirt. “You don’t want to go starting something you don’t have time to finish. Would you help me with my shoes?”
Karen rummaged in the overnight bag, pulling out a pair of black velvet flats with pewter trim.
“Oh shit, you’re going to want to dance tonight!”
“Yes I am, Liz, and I’m going to want to dance with you.”
“Trish, will you rub my smelly sore feet when we’re through?”
“Silly woman, for the chance to dance with you I’ll do that and much more,” she said, leaning in to blow softly into Karen’s ear.
“Now who’s starting things they don’t have the time to finish?” growled Karen.
* * * * *
In their bedroom, Kelly and Jessica were finishing their preparations. Kelly’s outfit had been relatively simple for her to get into; turquoise silk camisole and flounce jacket, low-rise distressed jeans and a pair of slides with three-inch heels that matched the camisole and jacket.
Jessica, on the other hand, was having some minor issues.
“I think I’m going to need more baby powder. I cannot fucking believe I’m having this much trouble with these damn boots!”
The black riding boots were refusing to go on and between Jessica pulling and Kelly pushing it was starting to resemble some old comedy skit. Her black and purple mesh tulle skirt was in the way, they were running late and she hadn’t even begun to get into her blackberry velvet corset top.
“Here, here’s some more powder… shake ‘em around… alright, here we go, on three,” Kelly said, positioning herself with a grip on the right boot.
“One…”
“Are you sure we can’t just stay home and fuck?”
“Yes, two…”
“It’s not that I don’t want to go out, but this has become a nightmare.”
“I know, three!”
The boot slid on as if it had never been any trouble at all.
The two girls looked at each other and laughed.
“Halfway there!” Kelly exclaimed as she readied to do battle yet again.
* * * * *
In the master bedroom, Margo and Carol were working on completing their dressing. Carol had just finished pulling the lacings tight on Margo’s black satin, steel-boned corset. Margo turned to look at her pet.
“So, how does it look?”
“Madam, are you sure you’ve never dressed Goth or fetish before?”
It was a valid question. The corset with it’s deep plunging neckline, the black satin brocade and satin ball gown skirt, the black satin opera gloves and the lace and black ribbon choker all added up to a vision that would’ve looked right at home at the Samhain Fetish Ball or any Goth club in the city. Although they were barely visible underneath the skirt, a stunning pair of buckled leather ankle boots finished out her ensemble.
“Well, not and known I was doing so,” Margo replied.
“You look lovely, Madam.”
“Thank you, my love. Now let’s finish with your outfit.”
Margo knelt down and buttoned Carol’s suit top. The ’40’s tailored women’s business suit, looking like something from a Hollywood glamour shoot, changed the lines of Carol’s body remarkably. She looked severe, all angles and edges, sharp and painful. Margo helped her put on her three-inch platform heels.
“How the hell do you walk on those?” she asked the young woman.
“A lot of practice, Madam,” Carol replied. “It’s definitely an acquired skill and it took me a long time to acquire it.”
Finally Margo attached the collar and leash and placed the black period-pillbox hat and veil on her head, pinning it in place.
“You look… like you’re in mourning, Baby Girl.”
“Good, I should.”
“Let’s go knock the boys’ eyes out,” Margo said with a mischievous glint in her eye.
* * * * *
Harry and Eddy felt like they’d walked into a black tie dinner in their jock-straps and flip-flops.
First Tamara had entered and walked to Eddy, putting the leash in his hand. Harry had never seen her looking any lovelier than she did that night.
“Eddy? She looks…”
“Yes, she does, doesn’t she? Theresa, my love, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
“Thank you, Edward.”
Then Karen and Patricia had walked downstairs.
“Dyke, you look very handsome tonight,” Eddy said, sincerity evident in his voice.
“So do you, Neanderthal,” she replied.
“And Patricia, whoa… you look lovely,” Harry said.
“Having a Keanu moment, Harry?” Patricia said, blushing.
Then came Kelly and Jessica to general acclaim and improper propositions from one and all as Kelly preened and Jessica blushed.
“Guys, ladies, thank you for the kind words and interesting proposals,” Kelly said, kissing Karen on the cheek. “If only some of them were serious.”
Finally Margo led Carol out of the master bedroom and conversation in the living room stopped.
“Uh, on a purely lust level, everyone in the room who would do either or both of these lovely ladies, show a hand,” Eddy said in a reverent whisper.
Seven hands shot up in the air.
Margo and Carol laughed. “Eddy, thank you as always for your sweet, romantic way of putting things,” Margo said.
“Uh, Margo, you know I love you, as a friend and all. Lemme ’splain this to ya… what you’re wearing isn’t sweet and romantic, it’s a ‘fuck me now’ wet dream. And Carol’s outfit, well, that’s a gawddamn submissive’s board room fantasy come true,” Eddy replied.
“It most certainly is,” Tamara said as she licked her lips.
Margo looked at Carol, then down at herself.
“You know, you may have a point, Eddy,” she said, smiling. “I guess we’ll just have to get used to being objects of lust, won’t we, Baby Girl?”
“Yes, Madam.”
Margo handed the leash to Harry and leaned in to whisper in his ear. “I’m not sure why, but the money thing seems to have her feeling real insecure.”
“Got it,” he replied. “Well, our ride should be here in,” he looked at his watch, “shit, about now.”
Sure enough, within minutes there was the sound of a car pulling up outside. As everyone ‘ooh’ed and ‘aah’ed over each other’s outfits, Harry went to the door and announced, “Our carriage awaits.”
The ultra-stretch limo had been a lucky find for Harry although if he hadn’t been able to find something suitable he would’ve been more than willing to call in a favor or two, and spend more money to make it happen. The company that G & P used for clients had a last-minute cancellation so no added effort was called for.
On the trip to the Bangkok Inn Carol sat between Harry and Margo, eyes still downcast, snuggling up against both of them in turn. It was one of those situations where Harry didn’t feel the time was quite right to ask what was wrong, so he leaned down and hugged her, murmuring in her ear, “Something’s obviously got you feeling very insecure. That’s fine, we’re here for you. But you also need to know that whatever you’re feeling, there’s really no need to worry. Nothing has changed between you and us unless you want it to.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said. Harry thought he heard a small bit of relief in her voice.
The manager of the restaurant scurried to the door to greet them as they arrived.
“Mr. Grimes, so good to see you again. The room is ready for you.”
“Thank you so much,” he said, smiling. “I’m sorry, but I can’t recall if we got your name the last time we were here?”
“Mrs. Sukhawari, Mrs. Phailin Sukhawari, but please call me Phailin. Come right this way.”
As they moved through the restaurant they caused a small stir, primarily because of Tamara’s and Carol’s leashes. Soon they were in the comfortable seclusion of the Vimanmek Palace room. Two of the walls had sculpted half-columns along them with a panorama of the palace grounds and various outbuildings. The other two walls were made to look like carved stone walls.
“This is a fairly accurate representation of the view from a balcony on the southeast side of the palace,” Phailin said. “When the Thai ambassador was in town three years ago he made a point of stopping by, as he is a distant cousin of my husband’s. He pointed out a few small errors which we had corrected.
“Should we be expecting more guests to join you this evening?” she asked.
“No, I don’t-” Harry began.
“Yes,” Carol said, “one and possibly two more, thank you so much.”
Harry smiled, “Guess I’d better check with the evening’s coordinator before I go answering any other questions.”
“That is always a wise course of action,” Phailin replied, smiling in return. “My niece, Chatsiree, will be your hostess this evening. Be assured she is empowered to make everything as you wish it to be. Good evening.”
As she was leaving Chatsiree came in, She was in her mid-twenties and stunningly beautiful.
“I am Chatsiree and you are the only group I am serving this evening so your needs and desires have my utmost attention. As I understand your party is not complete, would you prefer to wait or would you like to order drinks now?”
Almost as soon as everyone had given their drink orders, Tatiana Turov was shown into the room. The eccentric artisan had dressed for the occasion in a burgundy Donna Karan outfit, top, slacks, cashmere cardigan and suede boots. Her hair was swept back and held in place with one of her own creations, a hair clasp of silver, that Harry remembered from their visit to her shop. At various points the clasp had brilliant red stones emplaced. Harry had thought they were rubies until he read the card next to the piece which said they were red garnets.
Carol finally showed some animation. “Tattie! I’m so glad you could make it! Where’s the boy toy?”
“Oh darlin’,” Tatiana replied. “He was all excited about a night out until I told him it was y’all. Then he went straight into a power pout and told me to have fun by myself because he’d rather die in some horribly dramatic fashion that I can’t for the life of me be bothered to remember rather than spend time in your company. I do believe you upset the dear boy with your callous comments.”
Carol stood up, looking terribly contrite. “I’m sorry I hurt your boy toy’s feelings, Tattie. Would a formal apology help?”
“Oh HELL no, it’s about time to trade him in on another model anyway, one that isn’t stupid enough to start believing the bullshit lonely old women say in the throes of passion and start thinking the world revolves around them and their cocks. So are you going to be a proper hostess and make some introductions or what?”
Carol took her around the table, making introductions and soon everyone was relaxing with their drinks, waiting for their meals.
* * * * *
“… so it was 1966, I was twenty …”
“So that makes you si-”
“Enough of the math calculations, thank you very much Mr. Janak,” Tatiana said, looking archly at him over the tops of her glasses, “so as I was saying, I was twenty, in my sophomore year at UT, and I already had a decent little business going in custom jewelry design. I had a little money and was a proto-hippie, hangin’ around a lot of the beer joints and little hole-in-the-wall clubs where there was a lot of interesting music bein’ made.
“So it’s Valentine’s Day and I’m sittin’ in the Student Union building, no boyfriend as was usual, when a friend of mine, Billy Ray, pops in and says we need to go get drunk and listen to some blues at this little beer joint. We do so and we have a pretty fun evening, sitting around with long-hairs and rednecks, just enjoyin’ the music and getting’ drunker by the beer. Finally it’s time to leave and Billy Ray and I offer a ride to some people we’d been hangin’ with, a girl who’d been singin’ that night and a guy, and so it’s the four of us in my VW Microbus. And I’m drunk and a little maudlin so I’m bitchin’ about not havin’ any man to call my own and this girl pipes up from the back seat that she’s in the same boat and that it really sucks and we should go to New Orleans ’cause Mardi Gras was in full swing and if we couldn’t find men at Mardi Gras we might as well shoot ourselves in the head.
“Well, for a road trip like that we needed alcohol and cash. I stopped by my place and grabbed a wad of cash, but there was no place to buy booze that time of night so this guy in the back seat, Chet, says his roommate’s dad keeps a well-stocked liquor cabinet and always has plenty of beer so if we grab his roomie we could probably raid the old man’s supplies and outfit ourselves for the drive. None of us had no objection so we grab his roommate, who turns out to be a speed freak named Willie, go to his parent’s place and clean the old man out. It’s like two or three in the morning and we’re loading up the bus with bottles of every kind of hootch imaginable and cases of beer. We manage to loot and pillage the place proper and we’re away like the stealthy drunks we were prayin’ we were.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” said Karen, “but what was the girl in the back seat’s name?”
Tatiana looked at her imperiously. “Janis, if you must know, Ms. Pinard.”
“She from Port Arthur by any chance?”
“Why yes, yes she was.”
“Fine, just curious.”
Everyone else at the table was looking at the two of them curiously as Tatiana returned to her story and Karen smiled smugly to herself.
“So there we were, five drunk or otherwise altered freaks in a microbus, driving to New Orleans in the early morning hours, no plan, no clue. We get to Palestine and I’m way too wasted to see straight so we’re all talkin’ about finding a place to pull the bus over and crash for awhile when Willie the speed freak pops off sayin’ he ain’t tired and he ain’t drunk and he’d be happy to drive.
“Like an idiot, I let him.
“So we’re a busload of sleepin’ drunks bein’ driven through East Texas early in the morning by a speed freak.
“Needless to say, we got pulled over. Seems Willie had a real loose grasp on the concept of speed limits, not surprising given his drug of choice, and so we got popped for speeding. 550 lbs of County Sheriff in a 250 lb uniform is flashin’ his big ol’ light in the back of the bus and roustin’ all us freaks out. There we stood, drunk or hung-over, shiverin’ in the cold, lined up in back of the van while Deputy Redneck pats down Willie, who’s on the edge of speed-freak frenzy. Finally his Pigness gets back to us and pokes Chet in the belly with his billyclub, askin’ him what he was on.
“Chet… okay, all of y’all are through eatin’ your desserts… Chet shows him what he was on ’cause he gets sick all over the Deputy, which provokes the predictable chain reaction and there we all are, dry heavin’ by the side of the road with an Officer of the Lard that I’m sure was thinkin’ of all the places he could hide our bodies.
“So I was feelin’ a little more clear after purgin’ and I ask the Deputy if I could speak to him a moment. I explain to him that we’re just a bunch of kids goin’ to Mardi Gras and we were too drunk to drive so Willie, who wasn’t drunk, just a little excitable, had taken the wheel and we were awful sorry about his pants and shoes and any fine for speedin’ he wanted to levy I’d be happy to pay in cash right then so we could get back on the road and out of his jurisdiction, go be someone else’s problem. I mean, I’m tryin’ to get out twenty words a second before his reptilian hind-brain figures out he could still kill us all, take all our money and dump our bodies in the piney woods.”
“I take it you have a real low opinion of police, Tatiana?” asked Eddy.
“You could say that. I grew up in the South, with a Russian name, during the Cold War. I grew up a freak, an outspoken woman and an advocate of civil rights in Texas during the ’60’s. That’s not to say there aren’t any good police. There are. It’s just I have a long history with the not-good variety, including this one, and it does tend to color my opinion of them.
“So this good ol’ boy finally writes me out a citation for speeding, public intoxication, several other things I can’t remember this long after, for a hundred and fifty dollars, looks me square in the eye and tells me that his handwriting is so bad that while it might look like one hundred and fifty on the citation it’s really three hundred and fifty.
“I told him I understood, my handwriting was very bad as well, got the money out of my purse, paid the man and we loaded up the bus and got the hell out of there.
“To make a damn long story a little shorter, we all get to New Orleans, spend a few days partyin’ and actin’ like complete animals. Janis was right, even women who aren’t conventionally attractive, like she and me, could get laid during Mardi Gras… repeatedly and pretty damn well. We were all livin’ in my microbus, bathin’ and washin’ our clothes at the home of some other freaks we ran into in the French Quarter, and I’m going through the money I brought real quick, as I’m the only one who has any. No big deal, I was kinda used to it by then. But one night I notice my cash is almost gone so I announce that me and my bus were headin’ back to Austin the next morning, all aboard who’re comin’ aboard. A couple of the people we’d met were interested in tryin’ their luck in Texas so having room for two more I didn’t have a problem with it. The little street urchin I’d been enjoyin’ the company of, a boy who called himself Jean-Claude Duquesne, was most tearful that night, we had a wonderful parting evening. I was touched when I woke up the next morning to find he’d left me a rose. Of course, he was dead broke so I figgered he’d stole it, but it was the thought that counted.
“We get everybody loaded up, Dack and Jillian secure their pitiful duffle bags full of stuff on the roof, and hung over as hell I start the drive back to Austin.
“Long about Lafayette, Louisiana, everybody’s tummies had calmed down enough to be hungry and I was about to need gas for the bus so we pulled in to a little truck stop figurin’ we could get a bite to eat, some coffee, some gas, probably be good for a healthy chunk of the way back to Austin. We all tromp in and we’re gettin’ some dirty looks from the staff and customers. Hell, I figure the only reason we didn’t get our asses stomped was that we were festooned in Mardi Gras beads and that alone’ll warm most Louisianan’s hearts. We get seated at a big ol’ table away from everyone else and we go hog wild and pig crazy with that menu, I mean, we order the breakfast from hell. Everybody’s feelin’ worlds better about an hour later when we’re finished.
“Until I opened up my purse to pay for the meal… that little Cajun cocksucker Jean-Claude had ripped me off! Had to be him because no one else could’ve gotten close to where the purse was stashed without me noticin’ it. Now we’re a pile of freeloadin’ proto-hippy freaks in a redneck truck stop in Lafayette and I’m havin’ visions of becomin’ Purina Alligator Chow. I’m almost in tears and Janis just pats my shoulder and tells me not to worry, she’ll handle this. She goes to the manager, explains what happened and then tells the rest of the crew to start workin’ to pay off our breakfast as that was only fair since they’d been moochin’ off me for awhile. She was gonna go make us some gas money and I was gonna come with her to pass the hat.
“So while Willie, Billy Ray, Chet, Dack and Jillian are washin’ dishes, cleanin’ out the restrooms, emptyin’ the grease traps, moppin’ and such, Janis and I go down the road and flag down a cop tellin’ him we need to talk to the Chief of Police. He gives us a ride to the station, Janis and I explain everythin’ to the Chief, tell him that the rest of our group is workin’ off our debt to the truck stop and ask his permission for Janis to sing on the streets to raise us some gas money.
“This good ol’ boy is lookin’ at us like we’re some kind of zoological specimen he’d prefer was kept in a lab somewhere and then he scratches his big ol’ buzzcut head and asks Janis to sing somethin’. She asks if he’s got any requests. He allows as he was always partial to Jimmie Rodgers’ “T For Texas”, figurin’ there was no way this freak knew that one. Was he ever surprised when with no further ado Janis breaks into it right there in his office, just growlin’ out that song like there was no tomorrow. She even gets the yodelin’ parts right and by the time she’s finished we’ve got everybody that’s on duty at the station in there listenin’ to her and clappin’.
“The Chief writes out a permit on a piece of note paper, hands her a five dollar bill and wishes us luck, tellin’ us where he thought we could do the best business.
“That’s where we went and for the next couple of hours I stood there, my artsy fartsy little beret in my hands to collect donations while Janis Joplin sang for our gas money to get home.”
“You mean THE Janis Joplin?” Carol asked, dumbfounded as everyone else murmured amongst themselves, excepting Karen who’d guessed it long before.
“The one and only… I heard her perform several time afterwards, but never was the experience anywhere near as… magical… as that day. She turned on the ‘good old girl’ charm and was takin’ requests and workin’ the passers-by; it was phenomenal. And while her singin’ got more polished later in her career, to me it rarely sounded so joyful and, I don’t know, singing for the hell of it, as it did that day.
“So eventually she was tired and we both were cold and there was a policeman the Chief had sent to make sure nothin’ happened to us who was more than happy to give us a ride back to the truck stop. We got there, collected the rest of the crew, got our gas, tipped the waitress, thanked the manager and headed home. We had enough so that when we got back into Austin, Janis took us all out to supper at the Villa Capri restaurant, after we cleaned up a bit.
“Four months later that same Chet, Chet Helms, invited her out to California and she left Austin, moved to San Francisco and became a member of Big Brother and the Holding Company. Any time you see her wearing a bunch of bracelets I can pretty much guarantee you that there’re probably two or three in the group that she bought from me after the band hit big at the Monterey Pop Festival.”
“Let me guess, you’re the reason Tony had all of her albums and saw her perform?” Carol asked.
“You bet I am. I damn near had to make him listen to her at gunpoint at the time, kinda funny considering his profession, but once he did he was an immediate fan. But anyway, that’s the story of my one and only trip to Mardi Gras and how I met Janis Joplin.”
* * * * *
When after-dinner drinks were finished and Carol had proudly paid the tab, the group of them headed out to the limo.
“You’re coming with us aren’t you, Tatiana?” asked Carol.
“Certainly, if y’all’ve got room for one more in that monstrosity.”
“Ma’am, for you, we’d make the room,” Karen said. “I think I might could persuade this sweet young thing to sit on my lap and listen to me make lewd propositions in her ear.” She kissed Patricia on the cheek.
Tatiana looked at her over the top of her glasses yet again. “I somehow suspect that you would be doing that whether I needed a ride or not, Karen.”
“And you’d be right, Ms. Turov. How fortuitous that you do need a ride when I’m so inclined,” Karen said, smiling broadly.
They all piled in for the relatively short drive to the Chateau de Chantilly. As they rode along, Carol leaned in and whispered to Margo, “How much will I owe y’all for the limo service?”
“Not a penny, dear, and Harry and I are firm on this. It’s our contribution to this evening and you will let us cover it or Madam will be most displeased, as will Harry.”
“Yes ma’am. You’re paying for the limo,” Carol said, eyes downcast but with a smile upon her face.
Tatiana sat in the limo, regal and aloof, watching the young people around her. She liked them. She liked them all. Carol had done well for herself and was surrounded by people that Tony would have approved of wholeheartedly, although some of them would have mystified him somewhat. Karen and Patricia, Kelly and Jessica… Tony wouldn’t have really understood their relationship, but he wouldn’t have had a problem with it. He was possessed of a remarkably “live and let live” attitude when not on family business.
When he was on family business he was one of the scariest men Tatiana had ever met. But such was one of the dichotomies of Tony Juliana and one of the reasons she’d found him such a fascinating human being. Carol’s relationship with Tony was one that Tatiana would envy for the rest of her days, but while she and Tony had become close friends over the years, she’d had to live with the pain of Tony never looking at her that way.
It was a pain she’d had a lifetime to get used to, a thousand different times, a thousand different men. Behind the regal bearing and mask of aloofness, Tatiana ate her nightly supper of loneliness, a bottle of unshed tears her private vintage wine.
* * * * *
As the limo pulled into the strip mall parking lot and the party disembarked, Carol looked around.
“Shit, he got here before us,” she said to herself.
No one else noticed the five men who stayed in the shadows but missed nothing that went on anywhere near the club.
* * * * *
“Goddamn it Niccolo, this is exactly the kind of thing I didn’t want you to do!” Carol said as she got up in the face of a handsome young man in a grey Armani suit.
“Look Carol, you know me. If you didn’t want this happening, you shouldn’t have invited me,” the young man responded calmly.
The inside of the Chateau de Chantilly had been somewhat transformed. The bandstand, such as it was, was crowded by the addition of a standing bass player and a saxophonist. A section of tables had been removed and a small dance floor cleared. A caterer had been brought in and a small buffet of what smelled to be superb Italian food had been set up. Everyone in the bar, including the staff, were wearing black armbands. By the bar there was a framed picture of a distinguished looking gentleman of Mediterranean extraction with black crepe draped around the frame.
Bizoumet and her new accompanists were rolling through “Take the A-Train” and the crowd, plates of food in front of them, seemed to be having a good time.
“Everyone, this is Niccolo Philouma,” Carol said. “Niccolo, this is my Master and Mistress, Harry and Margo Grimes.” On she went, down the line until she got to Tatiana.
“Aunt Tattie, I’m so glad to see you out of that workshop,” Niccolo said, giving her a big hug and kiss. “I called your place and Pyotr was most upset… forgot his accent and everything. Told me you were already with this gang of miscreants. Saved me the trouble of having to drag the two of you out, kicking and screaming.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t have been the one kicking and screaming, I suspect. I might have found out more about Pyotr’s true orientation than I want to know if you’d tried to get him to come. I suspect he would have reached levels of screaming queendom hitherto unseen outside of a theater group.”
“Aunt Tattie, what a terrible thing to say about one’s paramour,” Niccolo replied, smiling.
Once again Tatiana Turov was peering imperiously at someone over the top of her glasses.
“Niccolo Anthony Philouma, you are far too intelligent and I’m far too… experienced… to believe Peter is my ‘paramour’. He’s a gigolo who likes my money a good bit more than I like what he does to me with his body.” She saw the mischievous grin on Niccolo’s face. “Good God boy, you can still find that much joy in yanking your Aunt Tattie’s chain? I’d have hoped you’d have outgrown it by now. You get that from your godfather, you know.”
“Yes and it’s in his honor that I’ll be trying to rattle the bars of your cage repeatedly over the course of the evening.” The trio on the bandstand swung into “April In Paris”. “But first, I’ve been remiss in my most pleasant duty to tell you that you look lovely this evening. May I have this dance, Aunt Tattie?”
She smiled and offered him her hand and without another word they twirled off onto the dance floor.
“So that’s the true heir to the Philouma family business?” mused Eddy.
“Yes it is,” Carol said. “And with all the other families expecting stupid fat Phillie to take over the business, they’re all primed for a quick and dirty takeover of the Philouma interests. Won’t they be surprised? I expect Niccolo will either wipe out or absorb several of the smaller families in the first week or two. Then the larger families will sue for peace, realizing the new and true state of affairs and Vic and Niccolo’s plans will have succeeded admirably. Niccolo will be head of a larger, stronger, more profitable family and a lot of the little riff-raff families that have been clogging up the works will be out of the picture, one way or another.”
“You and Tony talked about family matters a lot, didn’t you?” Karen asked.
“One of his favorite subjects,” Carol said, smiling to herself. “The aftermath of Vic’s death was one of his biggest concerns and he often pondered how it would work out. Even he didn’t know, or if he did he never let on to me, that Vic was bringing up Niccolo behind the scenes to take over. The public image has always been that Niccolo was estranged from the family. It was only Vic’s recent decline in health that brought him back into the fold. But enough talk about things we probably shouldn’t be talking about.
“I see that Nick has reserved us a large table, let’s go sit down and order some drinks. I suspect this party will be a long one.”
After the song was finished, Bizoumet excused herself from the piano and the bassist and saxophonist went into a little improvisational jam as she headed for the table.
“Alright Carol,” she said as she arrived, “you know I’m going to get you up there singing tonight so you might as well resign yourself to the idea right now.”
“And a good evening to you too, dear,” Carol replied. “I figured there was no way out of it when I first thought of coming here tonight. But give me a bit, alright?”
Introductions were made around the table as Nick and Tatiana came to sit down as well. After everyone had met and drink orders been delivered, Carol turned to Harry.
“Sir, I’m covering our tab tonight but if we go over what I have on me I’ll reimburse you for what I can’t cover immediately”
“Nope, not happening. Margo and I are picking up the bar tab for all of us tonight.”
“Harry, you’re crazier than a shithouse rat. You got the limo, Tamara and I are covering the bar tab,” Eddy said, “and I don’t wanna hear no gawddamn argument about it.”
“I’m not going to argue with you, you knuckle-dragging Neanderthal throwback, I’m just going to beat the shit out of you like I was your mama and pay the bill,” Karen said.
“Well, I’d offer to do evil things to your body, Karen, so Jessica could steal the check from you,” Kelly said, “but unfortunately this’ll end up being way too rich for our blood. But if you’d like for us to try and pay, we’ll offer up our innocent young bodies to the crowd,” she smirked.
“Absolute and complete nonsense!” Tatiana exclaimed. “I have far more money than I know what to do with and I’m picking up the tab. That’s the end of the matter; let’s hear no more about it!”
Niccolo sat back smiling. “You know, there are times when I love being me. You see, I’m the one with armed guards surrounding the club. I’m also the one who’s already made it clear to the house that I’m picking up the tab for everyone in the place tonight. So I win the Great Tony Juliana’s Wake Bar Tab Pissing Contest, hands down.”
Tatiana looked down her nose at him. “You, young man, do not fight fair.”
“I’m sure you have a point in that statement somewhere, Aunt Tattie, I’m just not seeing it. Now then, who needs a refill?”
As everyone laughed he motioned a waitress over. “Rosalind, be a dear and get another of the same for everyone.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, Mr. Philouma,” Harry began.
“Call me Nick.”
“Nick,” Harry continued, “how are you avoiding having the bar fill up with freeloaders?”
“First off, the patrons don’t know I’m covering their tabs and won’t, until they’re on their way out. Secondly, the waitress and bartender grapevine has spread the word as to who I am. Generally speaking, people don’t try to take advantage of people with my last name in this town. And thirdly, so what if they do? In reality I think it’s a pretty safe bet I have more money than Aunt Tattie, so spending a little more of it isn’t going cause me to miss any meals.”
Carol sat snuggling between Margo and Harry. “So Nick, how’d you lose any unwanted escorts this evening?”
“Wasn’t that hard, although I want you to know that it wounded my Sicilian patrician soul to ride in a Honda Civic to get here unseen. The boys weren’t happy about their various low-end rides either, but they did the job. We managed to lose any local, state and/or federal watchers.”
He looked at Harry and Margo. “Carol was most insistent that I not bring you the kind of ‘official scrutiny’ that I live under. She’s a very good girl.”
Margo leaned down and kissed Carol, whispering “Thank you” while Harry said “Yes she is, she’s a wonderful girl.”
After a bit more conversation around the table, Bizoumet went back to the piano and the trio began playing dance music once more. The tiny dance floor was soon crowded with couples, leaving Carol and Tatiana alone at the table after they begged off, forcing Nick to dance with a lovely woman who had wandered in a bit earlier by herself.
“He would have loved this, you know,” Tatiana said as she got up and came over to sit next to Carol.
“Oh Tattie, yes he would have indeed. He would’ve had the best time here tonight.”
“And you know he would approve of your family and friends, don’t you?”
“I hope so.”
“Carol, darlin’, I know so and if you weren’t so wrapped up in the middle of it all you’d know it too. Tony would’ve loved them all and with his charm they would have adored him as well.”
“Tattie… Tony left me… money.”
“Of course he did, honey. There was never any doubt in my mind that he would. I assumed you already had it.”
“Nope, just found out today. Tattie… he left me over a quarter of a million dollars… in cash.”
“Sounds about right and there’s not a penny of that you don’t deserve. Oh, I don’t mean you earned it on the flat of your back. Despite your behavioral… peculiarities… you’ve never been a whore. You earned it by being you and by loving and caring for him and by making him happy. I suspect that if you’d never bedded him and had done nothing more than played Parcheesi with him every day until the end he would have done the same thing and you’d have deserved it just as much.
“So, little Carol, what’s really bothering you? Because you can’t fool old Aunt Tattie into thinking it’s anything you’ve mentioned so far.”
The small woman looked up at her companion.
“Tattie, money… changes things… you know that. What if Harry and Margo don’t want me anymore because now I’m financially independent and don’t ‘need’ them?”
“Absolute fuckin’ tommyrot! Not a chance in the world and if you’d quit worryin’ yourself into a tizzy you’d see it too. They love you, little one, they love you more than either of them really suspects or understands, in my opinion.
“You are a part of them. Never doubt it. Trust me, they don’t. And if you don’t believe me or can’t accept that, ask them. Talk to them about it. You’re smart enough to figure that out. What else?”
“What the fuck am I going to do with a quarter of a million dollars, Tattie? I’ve never had more than a thousand or twelve hundred dollars to my name ever. Tonight I pulled out two grand to cover supper, as well as other expenses nobody is letting me cover. I’ve never had two thousand dollars at one time, much less a quarter of a million.”
“Carol, dear, calm down. Money can be scary, especially if you’ve never had it before. I remember the first time one of my pieces sold after I got some recognition. I had priced the piece at nine hundred, thinking that might be a little steep. The store owner I had just started selling through, Evelyn, who became my business manager and remained so for years afterwards, looked at me like I was crazy. She told me to put a two in front of the nine and I’d still be on the cheap side of what the market would pay. I happened to still be in her shop when a woman walked in, a casual shopper, saw the necklace and had to have it. Ten minutes later she was heading out the door with it, thrilled with the bargain she’d found and I was in complete and total shock. This little ol’ gal had no clue how to handle the kind of money Evelyn was telling me I was going to be making.
“So I asked for help. I asked people I trusted. From what I know of Margo, Harry and Karen, none of them are handling their own investments and such. They have people who handle that for them. Hell, if nothing else, talk to Niccolo. I’m sure he knows people who could help you figure out how to invest your money, take care of it, help it grow.
“Now then, is there anything else you’d like to talk about, anything else that’s bothering you?”
“No, not really.”
“Well come on then, I’m pretty sure that you and I can find room out there to dance together.”
“I’d be honored, Tattie.”
“Stuff and nonsense, the pleasure’s all mine.”
* * * * *
After several dances Bizoumet sent a note with one of the waitresses that she was about to stop playing unless Carol came up and sang so she reluctantly took the stage.
Carol had been dreading this all night. She was so scared she’d break down on stage, thinking of Tony and put a pall on the evening, an evening which so far had gone marvelously.
She needn’t have worried. She closed her eyes and held onto the mike stand as she swayed back and forth, dancing with Tony in her mind, singing to him as she had when he was alive.
There were tears a-plenty in the club that night, but none of them were Carol’s. She performed for her old friend, lover and Master one last time. She sang with all she had in her and it flowed out through the audience, touching everyone there.
She did a set of his ten favorite songs and when she was finished she was drained, holding on to the mike stand more for support than anything else. Nick walked up to her, helped her from the stage and sat her on a bar stool. He took her head in both hands and kissed her on each cheek.
“You did him proud tonight,” Nick said, tears in his eyes. “I don’t doubt he heard you. I can’t believe in a God that wouldn’t let him hear you.”
After she rested a bit and had some water, Harry appeared beside her.
“May I have this dance, Baby Girl?”
The next hour or so passed as she danced with everyone, even people from the audience who used the time to tell her how much they had appreciated her performance.
It was 2:00 when the regular patrons were ushered out.
“Well now,” Harry said, “time to relax a bit.”
Bizoumet had joined them at the table. “You folks know how to throw a wake, especially you, Nick. If this girl eats anymore of that food I won’t have anything that fits me.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Nick said, smiling. “I’ve seen you eating tonight and I’m sure you haven’t put on an ounce.”
“Another true gentleman… Eddy, where do you find these marvelous men?” Bizoumet purred.
“I just tell ‘em about you, darlin’ and I can’t keep ‘em away,” Eddy said, smiling.
The conversation continued until around 4 AM.
“Toast time!” Harry announced. “A full circle.” The traditions were explained and everyone got a fresh drink.
“To friends present,” said Harry.
“To absent friends,” Eddy announced.
“To absent loves,” Karen added.
“To Tony Juliana,” Carol said.
“To light, love and laughter,” Tatiana interjected.
“To those we hold most dear,” said Margo.
“To new friends,” added Bizoumet.
“To plenty of time to love,” Kelly said.
“To freedom,” announced Jessica.
“To dreams coming true,” said Patricia.
“To finding your heart’s desire,” added Tamara.
“Success for all our friends, confusion to all our enemies,” finished Nick.
And then there was silence as drinks were emptied.
It was 4:30 AM when Nick finally paid the tab, everything was packed up and the Chateau de Chantilly was as it had been before.
The limo full of only slightly drunk but very tired friends headed to Tatiana’s home to drop her. When they arrived ‘Pyotr’ was busily pacing back and forth in the living room, visible through the drapes.
As Tatiana trudged wearily up the walk, the rest of them got out and yelled in unison, “GOODNIGHT PETER”. After which Carol shouted “You fuckin’ poseur!”
Laughing they fell over themselves getting back into the limo as Tatiana’s cackling filled the night.
* * * * *
Before the limo had gotten two blocks away from Tatiana’s, the first pair of shoes had come off and soon no one was wearing anything on their feet.
“Whoever it was wrote ‘I Could Have Danced All Night’ was clearly out of their freakin’ mind,” Eddy groaned. “If I don’t have blisters it’s a miracle. If I do have blisters, I’m gonna whimper a lot.”
“There, there, Edward. If you have blisters I’ll pamper you. It’s my duty and my pleasure,” Tamara said, hugging his arm.
“Issum big bad Eddy gonna whimper wikum wittle baby?” Karen asked, grinning.
“Yes, Dyke, yes I will. Of course, if you were to mention it too many more times I bet I could still find it in me to beat your ass at arm-wrestling while I’m whimpering.”
“Besides,” Patricia said, jumping in, “I’d put Liz up against Eddy in the ‘Worlds Biggest Baby Contest’ when she’s sick. Good Lord, you’d think a cold meant she was dying of the plague.”
“I’m not that bad!” Karen said indignantly.
“Oh yes you are!”
Eddy laughed. “Okay, for being big whiny babies when we’re in pain, let’s call it a draw and be thankful we have wonderful women who indulge us.”
“Agreed. Uh, I’m not sure it was a real good idea for me to take those boots off,” Karen said apologetically. “I’m sorry, y’all.”
“Not a problem, that’s why God made sunroofs, to let in ventilation,” Harry replied as he hit the switch to open the limo’s and turning up the fan in the air conditioner.
“Besides, Dyke,” Eddy growled as the somewhat cool early morning air swirled about the interior, “your feet can’t stink anywhere near as badly as mine. I swear these bad boys could knock a buzzard off a shit wagon tonight.”
“Your foot stench ain’t shit, Neanderthal. Mine would set the goddamn shit wagon on fire.”
“If you two get into a foot funk pissing war, Tamara and I are going to beat both of you senseless, sell you to the gypsies and live together happily ever after. Isn’t that right, Tamara?” Patricia said.
“Yes ma’am.” Tamara replied, cuddling up to Patricia, who sat next to her.
“Eddy, when was it you first knew you’d lost control?” Karen asked, smiling.
“Karen, unlike you I was never silly enough to think I was ever in control,” Eddy replied, grinning back at her.
The limo-full of laughing friends cruised on into the night.
* * * * *
Once home the bathrooms were used in shifts as makeup was scrubbed off and sweaty bodies were given quick once-overs. By 5:30 seemingly everyone was asleep, dead to the world.
Except Harry.
He and Margo had cuddled up on either side of Carol, holding her and each other as they got comfortable. Carol had dropped off almost immediately but Margo had seemed restless and Harry had just been unable to get to sleep at all.
Deciding that awake and moving about was better than lying in bed and pissed off, he got up and headed for the kitchen. Rummaging around in the pantry he found some hot cocoa mix, the kind with little marshmallows, and decided that a cup or two couldn’t hurt and might help, especially if he sweetened it with whiskey.
He had just settled down at the kitchen table with his first cup, watching the sky gradually lighten out the window, when Margo padded in.
“Hey honey, what are you doing up?” he asked.
“I could ask you the same question. I just couldn’t sleep. Is there anymore of that cocoa?”
“There certainly is. Shall I make you a cup?”
“Oh please, love.”
“With whiskey or without.”
“With, by all means.”
Harry puttered about and before too much longer was back, sitting at the table with Margo as they both inhaled the chocolate fragrance rising from their mugs.
“Harry, I’m worried about Carol. She’s been so… I don’t know, skittish I guess, since finding out about the money Tony left her. Insecure, like because she has money, we’re going to kick her out of the nest.”
* * * * *
Carol had woken up shortly after Margo left the bed. Her sleep had appeared much deeper than it was as there were far too many thoughts and emotions running loose in her head. She had gotten out of bed and headed for the kitchen, arriving in time to hear Margo say she was worried about her. Carol had hung back behind the doorway, frightened yet curious.
* * * * *
“Funny, I can’t sleep because I’m afraid she’ll leave us, now that she has money,” Harry replied. “I know it’s silly, I know that much more than financial need lies at the heart of our relationship. It has from the very start. But still, irrationally, the thought scares the hell out of me. I can tell myself it isn’t going to happen, over and over, and it doesn’t help in the least. My mind relaxes and the fear comes rushing back, as strong as ever.”
“You have nothing to be scared of,” Carol said as she came into the kitchen and threw her arms around Harry’s neck. “This is silly,” she continued as she went and hugged Margo. “I’m scared shitless that you’re going to ‘kick me out of the nest’, as Margo put it, and you’re scared I’m going to fly away. Tattie was right. I should’ve just sat down and talked this over with the two of you.”
“Well,” Harry said, “we’re all here now. Would you like a cup of cocoa? With or without whiskey?”
“Yes, please, with,” Carol said, settling into a kitchen chair. “Look, I’m not going to leave unless you want me to.”
“And it’ll be a very cold day in Hell before that happens,” Margo replied.
“Right,” Harry said, “so do you think we can all stop tweaking so hard and just relax. Carol, honey, you’re a part of this, as much as I am, as much as Margo is. There isn’t any ‘Margo and Harry’, ‘Harry and Carol’ or ‘Carol and Margo’, there’s just ‘us’. I know that’s hard for me to wrap my head around sometimes. It’s not a family arrangement I was raised imagining. But it’s ours and it’s going to work for us because we’re going to keep loving each other and talking to each other and loving each other some more until we make it work.”
“He’s right, none of us are alone in this… and that’s something I’ve been needing to remember from time to time,” Margo said. “Harry, when I set up my hours with the clinic, I kept the option open to take Fridays off. I think I’m going to start doing that. You and Carol have Mondays together, and I don’t begrudge you that at all, but our weekends tend to get eaten up with friends and running around. I want a day that’s just for us.”
“Then you better switch it around to Mondays, darling wife. Anna and Galena are in the house on Fridays and while Anna would smile and ignore the show I don’t think she’d approve of her underage daughter attending.”
“Good point, I’ll discuss it with the clinic director Monday morning… oh shit, tomorrow morning. Christ, I’d forgotten it’s Sunday already.” She looked out the window at the brightening daylight. “So, we make Mondays a day for just the three of us, nobody else. Sound like a plan?”
“Works for me,” Harry said. “Force me to spend the day with the two people I can’t live without? Oh, my life is a never-ending, torturous grind of pain and degradation.”
“Only if you ask nicely, dear,” Margo replied, kissing him on the cheek. “Work for you, sweetie?”
“Yes Madam,” Carol said, “in fact it sounds like heaven to me.”
“Fine, then let’s finish our cocoa and head for bed. I don’t know about you two, but I’ve been awake far too long.”
Fifteen minutes later the three of them were well on the way to joining the rest of the house in deep sleep.