I flipped the phone shut after listening to Daisy telling me about how her masseuse was coming that night. It was only after I hung up that I realized I’d just talked to a drug dealing, gun running, pimp’s wife and I had no problem with that.
None at all.
How weird was that?
Call number four came about five minutes after Daisy. It was Tod.
“Girlie! You’re doubling up on toiletries?”
Someone was obviously talking and that someone was either a redhead, a platinum blonde or a honey blonde. I was guessing platinum or Daisy.
“That calls for champagne!” Tod screeched. “I’m getting on a flight as we speak and Stevie’s in Baltimore. We’re both back in a couple of days and then we’re having a Toiletries and Tiaras party.”
By the way, when Tod wasn’t a drag queen both Stevie and Tod were flight attendants.
“Toiletries and Tiaras?” I asked.
“Everything goes with tiaras, girlie.”
There you go.
Call number five came when I was in Bath and Body Works at Cherry Creek Mall. It was Roxie.
“Daisy says you’re at the mall.” Her tone sounded accusatory.
“Um, yeah. Vance told me to leave my lotion –” I started to say.
“I know, I know. Why didn’t you call and tell me you were going to the mall?” she asked then didn’t give me time answer. “I’ll meet you outside the MAC store in fifteen minutes. We’ll shop, then get pizza at California Pizza Kitchen and we’ll gab.” Again, she didn’t let me answer, she disconnected.
Roxie and I were browsing in the underwear section of Nordstrom’s when call number six came, Ally. “Hey chickie. What’s this I hear about leaving your lotion at Vance’s?”
I gave her the lowdown.
“That is so cool!” she yelled then, “listen, I’m working a shift at Brother’s.” Ally, I’d found out the other night, was a bartender at My Brother’s Bar when she wasn’t working at Fortnum’s, “come over, I’ll buy you a drink to celebrate.”
“Can’t. Roxie and I are at the mall. We’re looking at undies then we’re getting a pizza. Anyway, Tod is going to have a Toiletries and Tiaras party in a couple of days,” I said.
“Works for me,” All replied, clearly always up for any kind of party.
I was buying three new silky, lacy and satiny underwear sets when call number seven came, Vance.
“Where are you?” he asked, not taking my instruction in common civility that you should identify yourself, he launched right in with macho-speak.
“Buying underwear at Nordstrom’s with Roxie.”
Silence.
“Vance?”
“Give me a minute, Princess.”
“Why?”
“I’m enjoying a mental picture.”
I grinned at the phone. “Still your mind, Crowe, and tell me why you called.”
“Lee tells me you’re goin’ out tonight.”