The Big Bang! Theory - A fourth--and final--short, erotic encounter of the Judy Banger kind (13 page)

Judy couldn't speak because
she had no idea what to say. Thank you? Thanks for nothing? Thanks
for bringing my hypercritical mother to my minimum wage job that
she'll undoubtedly hate? Every reply seemed a little churlish, so,
she hit the play button on her phone, instead. "Let's do this. That
Danish you had for breakfast is headed straight for your
thighs."

As random selection would
have it, the first song up was the Maroon Five hit that had been
playing when Buddy croaked. Her cheeks turned hot.
Nobody knows but you, sugar lips.
Buddy. She knew her old friend would have loved
watching ladies' boobs bouncing up and down so she called, "Let's
jack," in her best drill sergeant voice.

Fifty-two minutes later,
still huffing and puffing despite ten minutes of cool down
stretching, her mother approached. "I had no idea you could do
that, Judy. Or, me, either," Mom added with a chortle.

The blush of pink in Mom's
cheek reminded Judy of
her
first day of class. Mom might be thirty pounds
lighter than Judy but she wasn't in any better shape than Judy had
been when she starting working out. Now, Judy's stamina bordered on
miraculous. "It gets easier. I promise."

"Then, sign me up. After
you left, your sister and I had a long talk. She made a few points
that weren't all that easy to swallow, but these gals--" She
motioned toward the ladies starting to line up for the bus.
"--don't pull punches. They told me you either keep moving or you
might as well lie down in your casket." She smiled--a real
authentic smile that quite possibly held a hint of pride. "Seems
they learned that from you."

The sound of the bus's air
brake caused the usual stir. Mom's new friends called for her to
hurry. One volunteered to save her a seat.

Mom started to leave but
turned and gave Judy a quick hug before trotting out the door. Judy
stood motionless for a good minute then shook her head.

"Wow," she muttered,
disconnecting her phone from the speakers. "Life is
weird."

After putting away the last
of the hand weights, she checked her text messages. The realtor
confirmed their meeting on Monday. Ironic, she thought. The day she
made up her mind to put her house on the market, her mother decided
to become a nice person.

Fletcher's text read
simply: "Call me."

She swept the studio floor
then logged in her hours on the gym computer before heading toward
the parking lot. Expecting to play their usual game of phone tag,
she punched in Fletcher's number as she walked.

To her surprise, he
answered on the first ring. "Judy. What did you do to my
dad?"

What didn't I do?
She cleared her throat. "I beg your pardon? What
do you mean?"

"We
Skyped
last night," he said,
stressing the name of the online video chat service as if detailing
some sort of miracle. "Skype," he repeated. "With my father--the
biggest Luddite I've ever met. His idea, no less. Once we both had
video, he told me you made him realize he'd fucked up as a father.
He said those exact words, Judy. And Judge Wilson Canby doesn't
curse."

I made him realize he was
a bad father?

"I didn't do anything,
Fletcher."

"He said you blew his
mind."

She swallowed hard then
confessed, "We had sex."

"Good for you. But I don't
think he was talking about that kind of mind-blowing."

Good for you?
"You're not freaked out about Wiley and me being
together?"

"No, dear heart, I'm not.
Lewis and I were secretly hoping you two might hook up, but I told
him the chance of that happening was a long shot. I didn't think my
dad would ever loosen up enough to enjoy a free spirit like
you."

Free spirit? Me?
"I'm glad you're okay with it, but I hadn't
planned to say anything since it--" Whatever
it
was.-- "--didn't work
out."

Fletcher chuckled. "I
wouldn't be so sure about that. Dad seems pretty infatuated with
you, Judy. He asked me if I needed any backers for the new club.
Said he knew of several gentlemen who would be
interested...including him."

Judy nearly dropped her
phone. A tingling sensation shot through her body and emotion made
her throat close. "That's great," she squeaked.

"I know, right? With
backers, Lew and I will able to make this place really upscale. We
met a set designer who's worked on some big name movie projects. I
could rattle off the titles but it would sound like I'm bragging.
Suffice to say, he's got cred. And we think we found the right
house. I'm meeting with the realtor on Monday."

"So am I," she exclaimed.
"I decided to sell rather than rent it out. I figured if you were
investing your trust, the least I could do was go all-in,
too."

Fletcher made a "that's so
sweet" sound. "Judy, you're the best. But, no. Don't sell your
place."

"Why not?" Did that come
out as whiny as she thought it did?

"We have a hundred or so
things--infrastructure-wise--that need to fall in place before we
can make this happen. Realistically, we're looking at six- to
eight- months of prep, maybe more, before we're ready for
you."

Judy swallowed a lump of
disappointment. She wanted to move, now--the sooner the better. She
needed a fresh start, away from her mother...and Wiley.

As if she'd admitted her
motivation out loud, Fletcher said, "Judy, you can't run away from
your life."

"You did."

"No. I ran toward my life.
I realized I was done pretending to be someone I wasn't. But you're
not like that, Judy. You're you. A genuine...beautiful...human
being."

You're you.
In the past, she would have contradicted him, as
well as brushed aside the compliment. Instead, she pretended to
catch the words in mid-air and press them to her chest.

He went on. "I could be
wrong, but I truly believe you have unfinished business with my
dad. He cares about you, Judy. I've never seen him so
infatuated--and I mean that in a good way. He's even talking about
selling the house and downsizing."

Judy laughed. "Now, you're
making me wish I'd gone into the Real Estate business, darn it.
Everybody I know is moving."
Except
me.

They talked for a few
minutes, mostly covering the logistics of Buddy's memorial. Ron and
Bev had invited her to ride on the Heritage House bus. She'd been
touched--and happy not to spend the gas money on the fifty-or-so
mile round-trip to the Veteran's Memorial Cemetery.

Which reminded her, she
needed to confirm Pru's plans. But that could wait until she got
home.

"So, I'll see you at the
memorial," Judy said.

"Indeed, you will.
Surprises abound."

Surprises abound? Who
talks like that?
She shook her head,
grinning.
Only Fletcher.
She'd liked him from the first moment they met. He
was unique, interesting and complex. Wiley might consider himself a
bad father, but Judy knew that wasn't true. Fletcher was proof
Wiley did something right. She would have told him so if she
weren't still so confused. Did she love him? Probably. Because he
fulfilled her addiction to the familiar or because he fulfilled her
as a person?

She only knew one person to
ask.

"Need to talk. My
house,"
she texted, then hit send. To
Pru.

"You woke me up," Prudence
O'Riley, Judy's BFF complained an hour and forty minutes later when
she stumbled through Judy's front door. "I didn't get to sleep last
night until three a.m. Jet lag. And a Storage Wars marathon on
cable." She pressed one perfectly manicured finger to her lips. "I
think we'd make good fortune hunters. With my intuition and your
practical knowledge of serviceable junk, we could bankroll our next
career."

"'Practical knowledge of
serviceable junk...?' Is that supposed to be a compliment? If so,
it sucks."

"I thought you quit
swearing."

"I'm weaning off colorful
language, but I don't think suck applies." She waved off Pru's
rebuttal. The woman loved to argue about the dumbest, most mundane
topics imaginable. "Anyway, thanks for coming. I need some advice.
Love advice."

"Love," Pru snapped, as if
it were a curse word. She flounced to the couch and sat with all
the show of an actress auditioning for the part of a
fifty-something drama queen. "My advice is simple: screw
it."

Judy took the Lazyboy,
drawing her feet under her. She rocked back and forth a few times.
"I know you're upset about Gerald--"

"The
late
great one."

"He died?"

"A thousand gory,
disgusting deaths...in my mind," Pru answered. "In reality, he's
probably shacked up with a Euro trash model in some foreign
country. With any luck, he'll catch the clap and itch himself to
death, but I'm sure that's too much to hope for."

Judy tried very hard not to
smile. She'd heard a million Gerald stories and she'd never
believed he was good enough for Pru. She rocked forward and reached
out to pat her friend's shoulder. "I'm sorry this ended poorly, my
friend."

"Thank you. After hearing
all my woes, are you absolutely certain you want to fall in
love?"

No. Yes.
"I don't know how not to."

Pru tried to look
sympathetic--or it could have been gas. "The Judge?" she
burped.

"Who else? You've only been
gone a week."

Pru ignored Judy's testy
tone. "You know how everyone says opposites attract. Well, think
about it. You're a good person. The opposite of that would be a bad
person, like Shawn. We all know how that turned out. So, in my
opinion, you need to find a person who is basically good, like you,
but has enough faults to keep you from being bored."

The stark, simple truth of
that statement hit Judy so forcefully she rocked back, nearly
upsetting the recliner. "Wow, Pru, that's brilliant."

Pru shrugged. "Of course,
it is. I'm not only an intuit, I have Mensa tendencies."

Judy blinked and scratched
her head. "Okay. But...back to me finding a man who is basically
good..." Wiley filled that bill. From all accounts--she'd asked
around the coffee shop and gym--his reputation as a judge included
words such as "fair" and "impartial." She'd also heard him called
"soft-hearted," and he tended to give people second
chances.

"Fletcher told me this
morning Wiley offered to round up investors to help fund the club.
Do you think that was because of me?"

Pru made a face. "Duh. Some
men--a rare few--can learn from their mistakes. They simply need
the right woman to open their eyes."

Judy pictured the time
she'd corrected Shawn in front of his friends. He'd smiled and
nodded, but later, when they were in bed, he'd made her pay. Fear
and humiliation were not supposed to be a part of sex. She'd filed
for a divorce soon after. And it had taken years for her to trust
again.

"Wiley isn't anything like
my mother. I think I was freaked out by how much I felt for
him."

Pru nodded. "You're telling
the wrong person."

Brilliant. Again. Maybe Pru
did belong in Mensa.

Judy reached for her phone
but her friend stopped her, wagging her finger back and forth.
"Don't you think that conversation needs to be in person?
Preferably naked, but that could be me. Besides, didn't I fly back
early for someone's funeral? Buddy's last hurrah requires shopping.
The old coot deserves to go out in style."

Although Judy protested--"I
can't afford a new dress, Pru. I'm broke and unemployed."--Pru's
selective hearing heard, "Oh, boy, shopping! My favorite
thing!"

~~

At fifteen minutes past
their assigned meeting time the next day, Judy opened her door to a
youthful-looking diva modeling her new, shin-length, cream-colored,
silk and rayon dress. Whimsically gathered at the shoulders with
loose ties and belted to show off the delightful print fabric that
swished like a watercolor painting of pink and vanilla roses, Pru
looked like a modern geisha in four-inch heels. "I'd say this dress
was worth the time and margaritas it took to find, wouldn't
you?"

Judy agreed, but Pru's
tardiness didn't leave time for glowing reviews. "You look great,
but we have to hurry or we'll miss the bus."

She locked the door and
headed toward Pru's older model Jag--a gift from some admirer. She
took the deck steps with care. Her snazzy white wedges matched the
stylized white cabbage rose detailing on the skirt of her dark
turquoise dress, but they were an inch taller than she normally
wore.

"I'm glad you let me talk
you into buying a new purse, too," Pru said, getting in. "It
matches your shoes perfectly. You look fabulous, by the way.
Totally unapologetic, which is exactly the look I was going
for."