How Hard Can It Be Page 22

The party was in full swing when I finally got there. Over a hundred people were mingling in one of the nicer rooms at the back of the country club. Thank Jesus it was a buffet. Getting stuck with the same people at a table for an entire evening might have just killed me. Mom and Dad were as happy as they’d ever been, greeting friends and laughing at scary Midwestern humor. I caught them lovingly staring at each other on and off. How in the hell could they still be in love after forty years but I couldn’t seem to keep a boyfriend more than three weeks?

  “Rena,” Aunt Phyllis called out from the other side of the room. I waved and she came barreling over. “Kim and Hugh came to my house last night and we had the best time.”

  “That’s great.” I smiled, having no clue who Kim and Hugh were. Were they Martians? Trolls? Gremlins?

  “The Bigfoot couple!” she reminded me. “Kim is a hoot and Hugh was able to communicate with the little people inside my TV through his music.”

  “You mean the scary noise that comes out of him while other people are talking?” I laughed.

  “Rena,” she said, “that’s not nice. He is a bit unusual, but very creative.”

  Now there’s a nice word for certifiably crazy. I filed that one away for future defense.

  “Hugh does séances, and we’re thinking about calling your Uncle Fucker back so I can give the bastard a piece of my mind.” Her eyes lit with excitement at the thought. “Would you like to be there?”

  I was mute. No words came to me that would be acceptable in polite company, so I shrugged noncommittally and tried to smile.

  “Great, I’ll let you know when. Where’s Jack?” she asked, looking around for his wonderful butter melting butt.

  “He died,” I said before I could stop myself.

  “Really?” Aunt Phyllis gasped, her eyes filling with tears.

  “No, but he’s gay.”

  “Oh my God.” She grabbed me and hugged me so hard I felt nauseous. “I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have pegged that in a million years and my gaydar is outstanding.”

  “Your gay what?”

  “My gaydar, dear. It’s a radar for gay people,” she explained very seriously.

  “I see.” I nodded, hoping against hope I wouldn’t turn out like my beloved aunt. “I’m going to go find Mom and Dad. Do me a favor and keep the gay thing to yourself right now, okay?”

  “Should I tell people that he died?” she asked.

  “Um, no.”

  I wandered through the crowd, greeting my parents’ friends and escaping quickly when the talk turned to the new boyfriend they’d heard so much about. By the time I got to my parents, I was ready to cry.

  “Hi sweetie,” Mom said, hugging me close. “You look beautiful as usual.” She took a good look at me and pulled me into the corner. “What’s wrong?”

  “Jack’s gay.”

  “Really?” she said, clearly shocked.

  “Um, no. Actually he died.”

  “Rena, that’s awful. Is that true?” She gave me the look.

  I paused, racking my brain to come up with a more truthful sounding lie. “No, it’s not true. He broke up with me because he thinks I’m nuts.”

  “That comes from your mother’s side of the family,” Dad said, having heard the last part of the conversation.

  “Dad—” I rolled my eyes—“Aunt Phyllis is your sister.”

  “Is she really? I suppose I blocked that one out,” he chuckled, giving me a hug. “That guy is an ass if he doesn’t appreciate you for who you are. You are perfect and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

  “I love you, Daddy.”

  “What am I, chopped liver?” My mom horned in on the hug I was giving my dad. I might be in a yucky place right now, but it could be worse . . . although I wasn’t really sure how. But I did have good friends, amazing parents, a kooky aunt whom I adored, and a . . .

  “Hi Rena,” my sister interrupted. “I heard Jack is gay and that he died.” Oh, right. I also had a bitchy ass-wad of a sister.

  “Girls,” Mom warned, “you will be pleasant to each other this evening.”

  “I didn’t even say anything to her. She just walked her hulking ass over here and started in on me,” I whined.

  “You take that back,” Jenny spat. “Dirk says my ass is like J.Lo’s.”

  “Dirk’s on crack,” I muttered.

  “Enough.” Dad cut off Jenny’s comeback before it passed her lips. “If you can’t be civil, then separate. Tonight is for your mom and me. I expect you to remember that.”

  “I’m sorry, Dad. Sorry, Mom . . . sorry, Jenny.” The last sorry was a little like chewing glass, but Dad was right. We were behaving like children.

  “Sorry, too,” Jenny said. I noted that she didn’t actually apologize to me, but her mea culpa seemed to satisfy the folks.

  “All right.” Mom smiled, hugging us both. “We need to mingle with our guests. You two behave.”

  They wandered back into the crowd, leaving me and Jenny in the corner. I fidgeted uncomfortably and wondered what in the hell had happened to us. When we were little, we adored each other. I guess we weren’t so little anymore. Well, she wasn’t.

  “Are you going to behave?” I asked her.

  “No. Are you?”

  “Nope.” I grinned. “Maybe we should take this elsewhere so we don’t upset Mom and Dad.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” she agreed. “After you.” She stepped back and let me lead the way. That alone made me a little nervous. Clearly she had something hateful planned to do or to say. I quickly thought through all the big butt references I’d come up with earlier and tried to remember every mortifying thing she’d done in high school. I didn’t know if it would be enough. Shit.

  It was fucking freezing outside. The cold didn’t seem to faze Jenny. She did have a lot of extra padding from the pregnancy. And then there was her butt . . .

  “What do you want?” I asked warily.

  “I don’t know.” She smiled innocently. “I just thought it might be fun to talk about the demise of your latest relationship.”

  “That seems like a lovely topic, but I’d rather measure your ass. I’m sure they have a tape measure or two inside.” I moved away from her to go back in.

  “What happened? Did he realize pretty packages on the outside are often not so pretty on the inside?” she asked nastily.

  “Yep.” I nodded. “I showed him my spleen and he ran for the hills.”

  “No, really Rena, did he figure out how crazy you are? Did he decide to cut ties and run before you ruined his life? I mean, come on, spill.”

  I was speechless. I had no comeback.

  “Maybe he heard how quickly you go through men and didn’t want to be another notch in your belt. Was that it?” she inquired blandly.

  My entire body was shaking and it wasn’t from the cold. What had we done to each other to end up like this? I was still unable to speak. I didn’t trust myself not to cry. I was not going to let her see me cry.

  “I’ll bet it was the crazy thing. Did he find out about the Sunshine Weather Girl mishap? I would think a cop might have a hard time dating someone with a rap sheet,” she laughed. “You never told me how you met. How did you meet?”

  “Stop, Jenny,” I said quietly.

  “Is that your best comeback?” She shook her head in pity. “I’m sure you can do better than that.”

  Everything from the past two weeks hurled through my mind, making me dizzy. She was small potatoes compared to the other problems I had. Did she need to win that badly? Maybe she did . . .

  “Rena, Rena, Rena, you finally find a good one and you screw that up just like you screwed up all the others,” she goaded.

  “Fine, Jenny,” I yelled. “You win. I lose. Again. You want to know why he dumped me? He kicked me to the curb because he thinks I’m crazy. That should help you sleep better at night.” My voice broke miserably, but I didn’t care anymore. “And you’ll love how we met. It’s absolutely darling. We met when he arrest
ed me for breaking my restraining order.” Jenny looked really weird. Everything looked weird. Then I realized the tears I was not going to cry were making my surroundings blurry. Shit. “Do you want to know what the best part is?” I shouted as hot tears rolled down my cheeks, “I’m in love with him and he doesn’t want me.” I sank to the cold ground and deep sobs wracked my body. “He doesn’t want me,” I whispered to no one in particular.

  “Oh my God,” Jenny said, squatting on the ground next to me and trying to put her arms around me. “Oh God, Rena, I’m so sorry.”

  “Go away. Leave me alone,” I said, rigidly holding my tears in check. “You should be able to enjoy the party now.”

  “Fuck, Rena, I feel sick to my stomach. I’m just so . . . so sorry.” She tried to hold me again and I moved away.

  “Jenny, I’m tired. I’m tired of you and me and life. You got what you wanted, so just please, leave me alone.” I pressed my head against my knees and closed my eyes.

  She sat quietly next to me. The silence was nice. I couldn’t take any more. My breaking point had finally come.

  “I’ve always been jealous of you,” she said softly.

  I snorted in disbelief. “Jealous? What do you have to be jealous of? You’re a doctor with a husband and a baby and a house.” I stared at her as if she had two heads.

  She pulled her knees to her chest, well, as much as she could being pregnant and all, and stared off at the stars. “You were always so funny. You had tons of friends and boyfriends . . . When people would find out I was your little sister, they couldn’t believe it.” She sighed and shook her head. “I wasn’t pretty and silly and creative like you. I didn’t have your charm or your balls.”

  I stared in shock. Maybe Aunt Phyllis had slipped me a hallucinogenic. This was not my sister.

  “Jenny, stop. It’s okay. You don’t have to say all that stuff to make me feel better. I’ll be fine. Eventually.”

  “I mean it. Even your screwups are funny and wild. I’m not brave or strong like you. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy with my life. I’m a good doctor and I love Dirk and I’m going to have a baby, but there’s still a part of me that wishes I was you.” She put her hand out. I hesitated, and then tentatively took it. “I guess I was just jealous again. There you were with this gorgeous guy . . . you looked like a supermodel couple, for God’s sake,” she laughed. “I didn’t want him, but I’m ashamed to say, I didn’t want you to have him either.”

  “Well, he’s gone.” I smiled weakly. “And just for the record, I always wanted to be more like you. Smart and organized and sane,” I giggled.

  “You don’t want my butt,” she teased.

  “Actually, Dirk is right. You do have a J.Lo butt. It pops, it’s sexy.” I grinned and squeezed her hand.

  “Will you put that in writing?” she asked.

  “Only if you put all the shit you said tonight in writing.” I narrowed my eyes at her.

  “No fucking way,” she laughed.

  “Ditto,” I giggled. “You know, Jenny, I’ve missed you for a long time.”

  “Me, too.” She smiled and put her head on my shoulder. It felt good. “Rena?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Jack really fucked up. That ass-monkey just lost the best thing that could ever happen to him,” she whispered. “If you ever decide to take his sorry ass back, I’ll be happy for you, but . . .”

  “But what?” I asked.

  “But I think I’ll always have to call him ass-monkey for the rest of his life.”

  I started laughing and I couldn’t stop. Jenny joined me. If anyone saw us they’d think we were wasted. I rolled around on the ground with my pregnant sister in the freezing cold and laughed like a hyena. I hadn’t felt so happy in a long time. Who knew it would take my life blowing up to get my sister back?

  Chapter 26

  Saturday rolled around and I found myself trapped in a shrine to the Minnesota Vikings. Believe me, I love football, but this was three and a half yards too far.

  Shoshanna’s home was done entirely in purple, gold, and white. Very comfortable, but extremely scary. A life-size cutout of Brett Favre with a cardboard caption reading “Green Bay Sucks” was the focal point of the room. I had a difficult time believing her gay husband had lived here for any amount of time. All of my gay friends have superb taste . . .

  Beggars can’t be choosers and I was grateful to my little friend for putting me up. I felt safe and loved. Nobody cared about my crazy here; in fact, it was embraced. Speaking of which, it was time for more Pirate Dave.

  We were minus Cecil. He had to take his mother for routine testing at the hospital, so the girls and I decided to work from Shoshanna’s.

  “We have to finish this piece of art by tomorrow night,” Shoshanna said.

  “Why?” I asked, moving her collection of bobble heads from the purple couch to the gold coffee table so I could sit. “I thought we had until Wednesday.”

  “Nope.” She shook her head. “Cecil needs to format and upload it by Tuesday afternoon. It will be available Wednesday at five o’-clock. The she-devil goes on live at the convention with Anderson Cooper, Wednesday at six.”

  “Back the fuck up,” I laughed. “Anderson Cooper? I thought it was the morning shows.”

  “You missed the memo.” Poppy Harriet clasped her hands together in glee. “The massive pre-sales for this book are unprecedented. National news has picked up the story!”

  “She’s going to read a chapter live on TV,” Joanne said, popping her compact shut. Ever since the brows started coming back, she couldn’t stop looking at herself.

  “Oh my God, no.” My fingers went to my mouth and I started chowing down on the cuticles. Hiding my terror was impossible.

  “Yep.” Shoshanna grinned, pulling my hands away from my teeth. “The skank informed us yesterday while you were out driving around finding yourself.”

  “Holy shit, isn’t the network going to insist on seeing what she’s going to read?” I asked. Surely they wouldn’t let her loose like that.

  “We convinced her to refuse to show them an advance copy,” Joanne giggled. “We said it would be more financially beneficial for her to hold on to it till the last second.”

  That made very little sense to me, but sense and Evangeline didn’t go together. Time was running out and I still had no way to free the girls from her. The Viper had nothing on me. Poppy Harriet and Shoshanna were fairly safe, but I knew Poppy Harriet didn’t want her Polish family to find out about her alter ego. Nancy wasn’t responsible for salmonella-gate, but I had no evidence to implicate Evangeline. And I still didn’t know about Joanne or Cecil . . .

  “When does Nancy come back?” I asked, hoping it was soon. I needed to tell her what I’d learned.

  “Wednesday morning,” Shoshanna answered. “She is going to love this turn of events.”

  “Guys, the Viper can still bring us down. We can ruin her career, but she can still destroy us,” I said. Even though I was in the clear, the thought of her hurting my friends made me furious. I realized in that moment, I was prepared to go down with the ship.

  “No time to worry about that,” Joanne said firmly, putting an end to my hopes of finding out what her deal was. “We need to finish the book and worry about the rest later.”

  “She’s right,” Poppy Harriet agreed. “Our good Lutheran God will make sure nothing bad happens.”

  I wanted to ask her where her good Lutheran God had been for the last twenty years, but even I wouldn’t go that far. I decided to believe her; plus I did recall recently making several deals with Him . . .

  “Okay fine,” I muttered, trying to find my Pirate Dave place. With so many thoughts and worries dancing in my head, I wasn’t sure if I could focus. What the hell was I thinking? I didn’t need to focus to come up with horrific plots. I just needed to open my mouth and talk.

  Crooked Jim wandered the deck of the ship, moaning in agony. Scurvy sucked and his recent hobby, knife juggling, had resulted
in the loss of four fingers on his left hand and two on his right. He feared his days as the ship’s seamstress were numbered.

  “Woe is me,” Crooked Jim wailed, banging his head on the railing and knocking out his front tooth. Sometimes it doesn’t pay to get up in the morning, he thought. He put the tooth in his pocket, hoping maybe the Tooth Fairy would pay him a visit and leave a gold coin or a fifth of gin.

  He sat down on the deck and put his head in his basically fingerless hands and said every cussword he knew. Twice. What he didn’t know was that he was being watched . . .

  An ominous wind blew and out of the shadows came the biggest, most uneven and lumpiest set of knockers Crooked Jim had ever seen. “Argghhhshitfuckpiss,” he screamed in terror, trying to cover his eyes. Damnit to hell, having no fingers made it difficult to cover his eyes, for Crooked Jim had teeny-tiny palms.

  “Oh shut up,” the head on top of the boobs sneered.

  The rest of the body belonging to the grotesque badoinkies was somewhat normal. It was almost impossible to get past the flesh melons protruding from her chest, but Crooked Jim was a decent sort. He tried to look at her face.

  “What do you want?” he stammered, hoping it wasn’t anything that involved getting within five feet of her.

  “I want to help you keep your job,” she purred, revealing sharp little teeth.

  “Who are you?” he asked, slowly scooting away. He wanted to keep his seamstress job, but she looked kind of hungry . . .

  “I’m Pirate Dave’s secret admirer,” she hissed.

  Crooked Jim had heard about her. Apparently she had left a hat full of assholes for his beloved captain. While Jim found that impressive and creative, she was fucking frightening. No wonder Pirate Dave preferred Laverne and Shirley.

  Crooked Jim felt bad. Judging people by their looks was shallow. For God’s sake, Jim knew he was uglier than hell. Who was he to be appalled by someone with disgusting boobsters?

  “How can you help me?” he asked, deciding he would befriend the unsightly woman. Even someone with revolting rib balloons needs a friend.

  “Can you still sew without any fingers?” she inquired.