Random DEEP. #f_ckyeahBen Lena sat in a damask lounge chair, peering out through her groovy horn-rim glasses at each of us in turn. The woman was a good month ahead of my sixteen weeks. God help me when I got that big. Ben could just roll me places. Pregnancy. So not natural. “No, we are not here just to eat,” she continued. “Though eat we will, and then some. What we are here to do is to meddle in Lizzy’s life, because we love and care for her. Also, because being on tour gets boring after a while so I figured what the hell.” “Oh good.” I took another sip of my decaf—read warm, beige milk. “Did you notice she has a hickey on her shoulder?” asked Ev, wiggling her eyebrows. “Nothing to see here.” I pulled up my shirt collar. “Move along please.” “She does seem especially glowy this morning.” Awesome. Even my own sister was getting in on the act. No loyalty. “I noticed that.” Lena tugged at a stray thread on the hem of her maternity Stage Dive T-shirt. It had to be pirated, what with it proudly proclaiming in fancy lettering, JIMMY FERRIS, I’D TAP THAT. I couldn’t imagine the man ever okaying the design in this lifetime. “And get this. When Ben stopped by to grab Jim to go work out earlier, the bearded dude was one happy, happy boy.” My brows descended. “No comment.” “About time,” sighed Ev. “He’s been so damn grumpy lately.” “Not anymore he isn’t. She’s got that boy walking on the sunshine.” “Thinking she used pussy magic on him?” asked Ev, eyeing me up in a dreadfully lewd fashion. “That’s my guess.” “You’re not funny,” I said, mostly unsmiling. “Anne, make them stop.” My sister tucked her bright-red hair neatly behind her ears and shook her head sadly. “Ah, hon. No can do. You’re part of Stage Dive family now. Inner circle and all that. Best get used to it.” “Ben and I aren’t married. We’re not even together, exactly.” “Expound on ‘exactly,’” said Anne, learning forward in her seat. “I haven’t heard what happened last night after you two left the party to go talk.” “We talked. Nothing else to tell.” Nothing else I was prepared to tell. The many changes were still too fresh. I hadn’t quite turned all of the information over enough times in my head to make sense of it. Assuming I would in fact be able to make sense of it. I was dubious. My words were met with a chorus of boos and even some hissing. One individual who will remain unnamed (Lena) even went so far as to lob a Danish at my head. Pastries as projectiles . . . I never. Luckily I caught it before it could make contact. Cherry, yum.
Posted on: Tue, 27 Jan 2015 23:33:31 +0000
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