Tats Too (31 page)

Lulu’s red fingernails flutter like a little injured bird’s wings to her mouth. Tears spring to her eyes and she utters, “Oh my God. I’m an aunt!”

Vivian continues, “I wish we had some pictures, but we left
everything
, I mean,
everything
in the house and it all burned up.”

Not quite everything. I know one thing she brought along.

“Your house burned up?”

“We did it on purpose.”

“On purpose? Where’s the baby?” Lulu asks, alarmed.

“We don’t know.”

Just so she won’t think we’re horrible parents, I add, “We know she’s with my mother and father. She’s safe. We just don’t know where they all are. Exactly. At this precise moment in time.”

Lulu sits straight up and says seriously, “I’m confused. Start at the beginning. Tell me everything.”

“But first,” I say, pulling myself out of the sofa, “do you have a phone I can use?” I say to Vivian, “I’ll call Mikey, see if she’s interested in earning some quick cash.” I look back to Lulu, adding, “And I could use a shower, too, if that’s all right.”

Lulu aims her fingernail down a hallway. “Sure, honey. There’s a phone on the bar in the kitchen and the bathroom’s across the hall. Just make yourself at home.”

“Thanks.” I smile and head in the direction she pointed. I’m about halfway down the hall when I hear Lulu murmur, “Nice tush. I wouldn’t mind some of that sugar in my bowl.”

I hear Vivian scold, “Stop that. Don’t flirt with my lesbian.”

They both laugh.

I hurry my tush to the kitchen and find, like the rest of the condo, it’s high-end and spotless. I wonder if Lulu ever even uses it? I spot the cordless phone sitting on top of the real granite counter and dial information for Albuquerque. A couple of minutes later, the phone is ringing, I have it tucked between my chin and shoulder and I’m pulling a bottle of beer out of the ice- box. I notice that Lulu has Miracle Whip in her fridge.

The ringing stops and a voice that sounds like Jerri answers. I open the bottle on a drawer handle and say, “Jerri, this is Lee. I don’t know if you remember me. Tats? I was there when—Yeah. Did you give Mikey the package I mailed? Do you happen to have a phone number for her? She’s in Vegas? Does she have a cell? Yeah, I’ll wait…”

I grab the notepad and pen on the bar and take a long swig of beer. I write as quick as she calls out the numbers.

“Okay, got it. Thanks, Jerri.”

“Next call, Mikey,” I say out loud to myself, then drain the bottle.

I dial the number Jerri gave me, but it goes straight to voice mail. Maybe she’s on her bike. I leave a message… “Mikey, this is Tats. Tits and I are in Vegas. Listen, I have a deal for you. I need your help with something. Something that involves a really big payday for you. One hundred G’s big. We’re staying in the penthouse right across from Pussy Galore. Bring the crew with you.”

I hang up, toss the empty bottle into the empty trash can and head back to the living room. I walk in on the middle of Vivian saying, “I’m still mad at you, you know. You stole all my cute sweaters and stretched out the shoulders.”

Lulu shrugs, “Well, I’m still mad at you for being born with a vagina. It’s a helluva lot easier to buy new sweaters than it is a new vagina.”

Vivian laughs and stands, extending a hand to Lulu. “I’m here to extract revenge. Show me the way to your closet.”

Lulu allows Vivian to lift her to her feet as she says, “Oh, honey. You are going to cream your panties when you see my wardrobe.”

“I already did that. Several times.” Lulu arches one eyebrow at her and Vivian shrugs, “It was a really long drive here.”

Lulu sees me in the hallway and looks me up and down, weighing me with her eyes. “Hmm,” she says, “I can’t wait to hear all about it. C’mon, let’s go compare girlie parts.”

They walk off the other way, hand in hand, like…well, like two sisters.

I head to the shower to scrub all the sand and stink off.

***

I’m all soaped up and letting the three showerheads work their massage magic when the bathroom door opens. I see Vivian through the bubble door and say, “If you’re going to pee, don’t you dare flush!”

“Just thought you’d like some clean clothes, doll face,” a voice says. “They’re Rachel’s and should fit you just fine.”

Is that Lulu? She and Vivian even sound a lot alike. I slide open the door a crack and peek out.

She’s gone. But lying on the toilet seat are leather pants, a leather shirt and some way cool leather motorcycle boots with a pair of thick socks.

At least Rachel has impeccable taste. Even if she doesn’t have underwear.

***

The only thing I don’t like about leather is that it squeaks when you walk. I’ll never be able to sneak up on anybody wearing all this. I find Vivian still in her red flannel perched on the sofa, looking at me smugly.

“Well, don’t you look perfectly edible,” she says.

“You’d have to skin me first,” I joke. “I’m wearing more
leather than a cow.” I sit down close to her.

“You smell better,” she says.

“I feel better, too. I had sand in places I didn’t even know there were places.” She laughs and I add, “There’s all kinds of smelly-goodums in that bathroom. Hey, when you take a shower, take Mr. Happy in there with you. See if you can wash all the desert off him.”

“Mr. Happy?” she giggles.

“You remember him, don’t you?” I ask, lightly teasing my fingertips over her nipples. “Mr. Happy remembers you.”

Her nipples harden under my touch. I glance around the room to double-check that we’re alone, and say, “Looks like Sonny and Cher are happy to see me.”

She smiles crookedly. “Sonny and Cher?”

“Maybe we should rename them. I’m thinking the Pointer Sisters is more appropriate. Because they’re sisters and they’re so excited they just can’t hide it.”

She laughs and adds, “Weren’t there three Pointer Sisters?”

“I bet I know where the third one is hiding,” I say low, massaging her thigh and inching my hand slowly up. “I’ll find her. I’m a pussy-whisperer, you know.”

She laughs into my ear and growls, seductively, “You’re going to get yourself into a lot of trouble if your soon-to-be-wife catches you with your hand on my pussy.”

Huh? What’s she talking about? I look close at at her face and…“Fuck me!” I say, jumping to my feet. “I thought you were Vivian!”

I shake my hand around in the air, but it doesn’t work. It still tingles from the ghost of Lulu’s you-know-what.

Lulu laughs her ass off and then Vivian is in the room laughing. She’s wearing some fancy clothes of Lulu’s.

Lulu says, “She is just the sweetest soft-butch thing, wherever did you find her?”

Okay, now, that kind of pisses me off. I’m standing here all in leather and she calls me “soft butch”?

Vivian slashes her hand across her throat at Lulu. “Ssshhh…
she thinks she’s butch.”

“Not with that delicious ass, she’s not,” Lulu says.

“I am so butch,” I demand. I stop just short of stomping one boot on the floor because that might make me look a little less butch.

Lulu overplays her agreement, “I’m sure you are, honey.” She laughs. “But if I know my sister, she’s always on top.”

“You can be butch from the bottom,” I sulk.

Vivian settles herself on the arm of the sofa. “That’s not what Mr. Happy told me last night. Mr. Happy says you have a very femme ass and he likes it.”

“My ass has a love-hate relationship with Mr. Happy.” I smile a little.

Vivian twirls one finger in the air, saying, “Honey, turn around so Lu can get a good look at your ass.”

I plop down hard on the couch and mumble, “I’d rather not, thank you.”

“Oh, and she’s so cute when she’s embarrassed,” Lulu says like I’m a puppy in a pet shop window.

“You guys, leave my ass alone and go tag-team somebody else.”

They laugh, obviously delighted with their new game of Torment-the-Outsider.

“And you changed clothes on me. That’s so
Parent Trap
.”

Lulu rises from the sofa and slings Vivian’s red purse over her shoulder. “Time to be Vivian.”

“Wait a minute,” Vivian says, taking the purse. She digs around inside, extracts Mr. Happy and tosses him to me, ordering, “Go stick him in the dishwasher.”

“Oooh, grape,” Lulu says, “good color choice.”

I try to hide my blush by hiding Mr. Happy behind my back.

Vivian hands the purse back to Lulu, explaining their idea-concoction to me, “Lu is going to go collect the money I won on the jackpot. She’ll use her own social and ID. So the Mafia and FBI will think it’s her who won, not me.”

“Get it in cash,” I add, hopefully.

“Show them your tits if you have to,” Vivian coaxes.

“Or even if I don’t have to,” Lulu quips.

Vivian pulls her sister into a big bear hug. “If even Lee couldn’t tell the difference between us, the ol’ switcheroo should work.”

Lulu feather-kisses Vivian on the cheek. “With your clothes on, I even smell like your pussy.”

They laugh and Lulu opens the front door.

Vivian warns, “Don’t you dare come back without the cash. Do whatever you have to do.”

“Honey, I have a vagina and I’m not afraid to use it,” Lulu says, then punctuates it with a wink before she disappears out the door.

“Okay,” Vivian turns to face me. “Shower time for moi.”

I grab Vivian in my arms and lay a big ol’ kiss on her lips.

I’ve heard of the power of subliminal advertising. Supposedly movies have quick images of popcorn and pickles spliced in between the film frames and suddenly for no apparent reason at all you find yourself craving popcorn and pickles so you have to run to the concession stand and buy them. I wonder if that shit really works. Like if I were to whisper spliced-in subliminal words while I talked to Viv about everyday stuff, would it work? What the hell, I decide to give it a shot.

I pull back from the kiss and say nonchalantly, “I was thinking the other day
tits
about
tits
how much I loved you and
tits
wanted you to know this so I bought you a chocolate cake
tits
and was
tits
bringing it home
lemme touch your tits
but I tripped on the sidewalk
gimme
tits
and I’m sorry but
tits
I ruined your surprise.”

I draw in a deep breath and study her face to see if it worked.

Vivian crinkles her nose, puts one fingertip on her chin and says, “Why do I have the strangest urge to let you touch my tits. Hmmm… Oh, well…”

She pulls me closer and whispers into my ear-ogenous zone, “Did I tell you about that old man who
ass
wheels his
ass
wheelchair in front of our house
ass
all the time
lemme touch
your
ass
and collects pop cans?
Ass
he’s saving
ass
up to buy a new
ass
electric wheelchair.”

“I don’t know why, but I reallyreallyreally want you to touch my ass.”

Her hands float down to my ass, grab it and pull me closer.
She whispers, “Let’s go give Mr. Happy a shower.”

***

The good thing about spending twelve years in prison (possibly the only good thing) is that I got plenty of practice having sex in the shower. In fact, I’m more comfortable in a shower than I am in a bed.

I lather up every inch of Vivian’s body, and I enjoy that so much that I do it all over again. Her tits are a little bigger. Maybe she’s a little fuller in the belly, too. I still don’t know how she got pregnant, and maybe she doesn’t either. I just know that however it came about, I don’t really want to know. I’m really starting to like the idea of another baby. A little brother or sister for Georgia.