Lauren Takes Leave (34 page)

Tim turns to me, his blue eyes sparkling and devilish.
“It’s Dixie! She’s the key!”

“She’s got the key? The key to what?” I call, but Tim’s
not listening.

Instead, he continues to shout directions at his
bodyguards, Tweedledee and Tweedledum. They ask me where the van with Jodi and
Sonia was last seen. I quickly rattle off the cross street, and the two burly
bodyguards take off in that direction, pushing against the tide of pedestrians
as quickly as they can.

Then Tim Cubix exits the limo, grabs me by the hand, and
leads me toward the middle of the parade. In that moment, I feel like we’re
starring together in some action adventure–romantic comedy mashup film and I’m
long-limbed Cameron Diaz!

But this is real life, which makes me short and makes me
worry for Tim’s safety for a moment, knowing he’s truly bodyguardless and truly
in the middle of a full-on city parade. “Are you scared?” I ask.

“Nah!” He smiles. “I’m loving this!”

“Good!” I say. “Me, too!” I feel young and dangerous and
sexy, and at the same time, I feel completely safe. I have no idea what Tim’s
up to, but I suddenly trust him with my life, since he’s trusting me with his.

“Call Lenny and Kat and have them meet us here,” Tim
shouts over the din of the crowd.

“Where’s here?” I yell. Tim points and I follow his
finger’s line, up and over the feathers and boas, and onto Dixie’s float.

I stare at the scene in disbelief.

We could not have planned a more brilliant escape plan
than the one floating before us now.

Dixie is cross-dressed as Ruby Richmond again, only today
she sports an army-green tank top, tight black shorts, and a huge utility belt.
Her hair is pulled back in a high ponytail. The float is covered with ancient-looking
artifacts and caskets, with men dressed in fatigues trying to shoot at her from
behind crates.

“Dixie!” Tim shouts as we jog alongside her float. She
cocks a .22-caliber in his direction, which I can only hope is also a prop. She
sees us and drops the weapon.

“Hi!” she says, extending her hand to Tim, that rich
bravado carrying over the random noise of the crowd. “Get up here, stud!”

Dixie Normous is dressed up as Ruby Richmond in her most
fulfilling role to date: the video-game-to-big-screen character Jenni Bale:
Crypt Ranger.

“This float is about to get one more casket.” Tim winks,
hoisting me up after him.

Securely aboard, he explains to Dixie the disaster that
has been our morning. “So, bottom line, we’re in a bit of a bind and we need to
hitch a ride with you to get Sonia Goldberg’s remains up the avenue. Can you
handle it?”

Dixie’s full lips pout in concentration as she takes it
all in. Then she blinks once, and flashes a brilliant Ruby-like smile at the
crowd. “For my life’s leading man? You know I’ll do anything!”

The float is making steady progress up Collins Avenue. Kat
and Lenny get my text, and, a few minutes later, they are running alongside us
and hop on. The four of us stand atop the float and wave to the crowds and
cameras as we scout for signs of Jodi, her grandmother, and the bodyguards.

“This is surreal,” Lenny voices for all of us.

“Sort of like that time we shroomed senior year,” I add.

“At Disneyland. I remember it fondly. I thought you were
Goofy.”

“I am!”

I’ve never been in the midst of so much action. Standing
on the float gives us a great view of the whole stretch of road, the beach one
block over, and swarms and swarms of festively-attired people. Voices call out
to us as if we actually belong on the Crypt Ranger float.

We’ve reached the middle of the parade route, it seems,
where bleachers and a bandstand have been set up. News vans with camera crews
from local television stations are parked down a side street. Our float slows
down and then stops as the parade’s MC announces our arrival. Surprisingly,
he’s dressed in a suit and tie.

“That man is rather formal for this occasion, no?” I ask
Dixie.

“That’s KD Lang,” she points out. “Always dresses like an
undertaker, what can I say?”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” KD begins, “may I present Dixie
Normous as Ruby Richmond as Jenni Bale: Crypt Ranger!” The crowd explodes into
deafening cheers. Dixie cocks a machine gun and sprays fake bullets over
everyone’s heads.

“And…who’s this?” KD continues, noticing our famous
companion. Tim waves tentatively at her. “Why…I believe that Ruby brought her
delicious family man, Tim Cubix, along for the ride today!”

The crowd goes nuts. Dixie grabs Tim and smacks a wet kiss
on him, and I am reminded of Kat and Shay at Wednesday night’s fortieth
birthday party.

“Great costumes, Rubix Cube!” KD winks. I wonder if she
knows it’s really Tim with Dixie.

The float lurches forward an inch and is about to start
moving again, when we hear shouting behind us. “Hold that float!” someone
calls. The chant picks up voices along the way and pretty soon everyone around
us is cheering it: “Hold that float! Hold that float!” It’s like we’re at a
baseball game when everyone starts in on “Let’s go, Yankees!”

Kat and I rush to the back of the float to see what’s up.

Coming toward us are Tweedledee and Tweedledum, bearing
Sonia’s casket high over their heads. Behind them I can just about make out
Jodi’s auburn head as the sun glints off it, walking unsteadily on last night’s
strappy, high-heeled sandals. Her feet must be killing her.

People part to let them through as the bodyguards heave
the plain pine box onto the float. We take Jodi by the hands and get her
aboard. Some of the actors around us help move the casket so it’s safely
positioned toward the middle.

Jodi looks like she might faint. We find a crate for her
to sit down on. Someone passes her a canteen of water. After taking a deep
gulp, she scans the street below. Finding Tim’s bodyguards in the crowd, she
blows kisses at them and then mouths “Thank you.”

One of them puts his hand over his heart. The other waves
her gratitude away, as if carrying a casket ten blocks in ninety-degree heat is
no big deal. He’s dripping sweat like rain.

“Okay!” Tweedledee shouts, hitting the side of the float
like it’s a tractor. “Start her up!”

Our float starts its gentle glide again.

Music begins as the next float in line takes center stage.
It’s the Beatles’ “Twist and Shout” and it makes me want to dance, only I’m not
coupled off. Kat and Tim twist into each other, leaving Lenny to dance with
Dixie. He gives a shrug my way and goes for it.

I take a seat next to Jodi and put my arm around her.
“It’s going to be fine.” I say. “I’m like ninety-seven percent sure.”

I can’t help but notice that the big guys are going to
remain close to Tim. They each move to one side of the float and act as our
personal escorts up the avenue.

It takes another ten minutes to get to the Loews. The end
of the parade route is near and the crowd has thinned out substantially at this
point. I can see our hotel’s mammoth white façade and do a mental cheer that
we’ve made it this far.

Tim motions to Lenny. A whispered huddle follows, Lenny
bending down quite a bit in order to get eye-to-eye with Tim. I notice Lenny
nodding his head in agreement as Tim passes him a slip of paper. The
conversation ends with a handshake–arm bump, hug, slap-on-the-back combo, the
likes of which I’ve never seen.

Then Tim turns to us. “You guys jump off here and go
pack,” he instructs. “I’ll have my driver meet you outside the hotel in fifteen
minutes.”

“But what about…” Jodi begins.

“My guys will get Sonia safely off this thing and into the
Hummer. You’ll all drive together to the airport. I’m staying in Florida, for
work.” He looks at me and smiles. I give him the thumbs-up. He’s got to go back
on set and deal head-on with whatever problems he’s got.
It’s that kind of
day for all of us, Tim,
I want to say.
A day to face the snakes in our
lives.

Tim stops and looks at Jodi, taking her by the hands. She
looks away, somewhat theatrically. I think I see a hint of a smile under all
that lovely red hair, but I can’t be certain.

“I know you don’t trust me anymore, Jo,” Tim says, as we
all hang on his every word and her every response. “I know you probably can’t
even stand me. So I’ll promise on Lauren’s good name instead of mine. I
promise
to take care of your grandmother.”

Jodi tosses her hair over one shoulder and looks Tim in
the eyes. “Whatever, Lex.” She pretends nonchalance, but her eyes are brimming
with tears.

“Thanks for trusting me,” he says. Then he leans over and
kisses her on the forehead.

“Aw,” Kat coos.

I think I hear the sound of a camera’s click, but that
would be impossible to make out over the rush and roar of the crowd. Wouldn’t
it?

If my life story were a movie—which I now sometimes like
to believe it is—here’s what you’d see this minute, flashing across the screen.

You’d see adjoining hotel rooms, in which three women and
one man (in their mid-to-late thirties, all rather attractive) frantically
fling their belongings into suitcases. They emerge from the hotel lobby a bit
frazzled and pile into a white Hummer-style stretch limousine. One woman,
wearing a huge white sun hat, black Chloe sunglasses, and layers of gauzy
material, opens the back of the vehicle. She extends a perfectly manicured hand
out to touch the plain pine box.

After a dramatic pause of a few seconds, she slams the
trunk closed and slides into the limo next to her friends. Collective Soul’s
“Hollywood” plays loudly as the camera pulls wide, showing from a bird’s-eye
view the limo as it makes its way along the highway to Miami International Airport.

“Tim made sure they’d hold the plane for you,” the driver
says as we reach the airport. I notice that we’re not at the traditional
arrivals and departures gate. In fact, magically, we’re on the tarmac.

The belly of a commercial 747 hovers overhead. We scramble
out of the car and quickly make our way up the steps and into the cool, recirculated
air of the plane. “Thank you!” I call after the driver. “Please tell Tim how
much we appreciate all of this!”

The driver tips his hat in acknowledgement, before moving
the vehicle out of the way of the giant metal bird.

Because of our distinctly Hollywood entrance and the high
we’re all feeling from the ride, we’re expecting an equally glamorous welcome
on the jet. Maybe applause from the other passengers, or at least some
champagne from the crew. Instead we are greeted with forty-two rows of icy
silence. Apparently, people don’t like when their plane is delayed, even if it
is for a dead grandma and her unconventional entourage.

Awkwardly, we move past the fabulous people and down the
walk of shame, finding our seats in the middle of coach. Jodi sits by the
window, pressing her nose to the glass. I assume that she’s watching her
grandmother being lifted into the cargo hold along with all of our luggage,
which can’t be easy for her.

“You holding up?” I ask.

“What the hell just happened?” Jodi asks. “I mean, really!”
She doesn’t seem upset so much as shocked.

I shake my head with the absurdity of the past twenty-four
hours. “I don’t know, Jo…but it would make a fantastic movie, dontcha think?”

“Gum, anyone?” Kat asks, extending a new pack of Juicy
Fruit and smiling wide.

It’s only after takeoff that I realize I have no idea what
I’m heading back to.

As soon as the captain announces that we are free to move
about the cabin, Lenny comes up the aisle from his seat to find us. He
stretches his arms overhead and yawns like a baby lion. His hazel eyes crinkle
pleasantly and the lines between his eyebrows crease with character. He’s
holding that pose to really enjoy the stretch, giving me an unguarded moment to
enjoy the sharp angle of his chin and the perfect symmetry of his face. When
he’s done, his eyes lazily open and meet mine, looking, as always, like he’s
just heard the funniest joke and he can’t wait to share it.

He really is cute.

Cute from afar, I mean. There is to be no touching.

“So…” Kat begins. “What were you and Tim talking about
back on the float?”

“I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” Lenny
jokes.

“Seemed pretty profound,” I add. “Especially since you
hated him a few hours ago and then suddenly you’re doing the arm-bump with
him.”

Lenny pauses and considers what to say. He turns to the
guy in the aisle seat across from ours. “Hey, buddy?”

The man’s got to be in his mid-to-late twenties. He takes
his headphones off and looks up. A smile of recognition lights up his face. “MC
Lenny?”

“Yeah, dude, that’s moi,” Lenny says. “Switch seats with
me?”

“Cool!” the guy says, grabbing his gear and exiting the
row. “You working on anything now?”

“Yeah, actually, I just landed a little project with Tim
Cubix,” Lenny says, winking our way.

“Excellent! Can’t wait to see it, man.”

Lenny moves aside to let the guy through. “Twelve C. I’ll
move my stuff in a sec.” Then he sits and stretches his legs into the aisle. Seeing
the three of us staring at him, he adds, “What?”

“Please elaborate,” I say.

“You’ll kill
me, but tell all to a random stranger
who just happens to know who you are?” Kat adds.

“Figure of speech,” he says. “Not literal murder.”

Lenny then tells us how Tim’s been working on a project to
help Haiti recover since their devastating earthquake a few years back. “His
goal is to build twenty new schools, to replace some of those lost by the
earthquake,” Lenny says. “And to significantly raise the country’s standard of
education from where it had been before. Train teachers, recruiting from within
Haiti, and empower the citizens through education. The program is called Build
a Better Future.”