How Hard Can It Be? (29 page)
“Where in the fuck is my hair?” Evangeline screeched. “I will destroy you all,” she wailed, still crawling around. The crowd booed her, which in turn made her start swearing at the crowd. Thank God her mic was gone.
“The proof is in the folder.” Joanne smiled, and pinched Anderson’s cheek affectionately. Instead of recoiling, Mr. Cooper grinned and leaned in for more. “The writers are here tonight. They’ve been deprived of tens of thousands of dollars and they’ve lived in fear and slavery for twenty years.” Joanne’s pretty eyes filled with tears. “It’s been a living hell,” she whispered.
Anderson Cooper took Joanne’s hand in his own. “Would you like to bring them up?”
“Yes,” she sniffed, “and I would like to clear them of this awful weight they’ve been carrying for twenty years.”
“Audience,” Anderson yelled, “would you like that?”
The roar was deafening. I watched as Shoshanna, Poppy Harriet, and Nancy made their way to the stage.
“Fred—” I pulled on him—“you have to go up.”
“I can’t,” he said, shaking like a leaf. “I can’t.”
“Delona,” I pleaded, “make him go.”
“He’s a grown man, Rena. If he wants to go, he will.”
“Son of a bitch,” Evangeline shouted. She’d found her hair, but the weight of her knockers made getting back up an impossibility.
“This is Shoshanna LeHump,” Joanne said proudly as Shoshanna took the stage in her full-on camo. “She wrote the entire Pirate series. All fourteen books.”
“I love you! Those sex scenes saved my marriage,” a woman in the back screamed at Shoshanna.
“I love you, too!” She grinned, giving the crowd the peace sign. The fans went nuts. No direction screen necessary.
Joanne continued, “This is Poppy Harriet. She wrote the best-selling historical series. All ten of them,” Joanne said, giving her friend a huge hug.
Several women shrieked and started sobbing. They ran to the edge of the stage and tried to touch Poppy Harriet as if she was a freakin’ rock star.
“Thank you,” Poppy Harriet murmured, completely overwhelmed by the attention.
“Anderson Cooper, I’d like to bring the Minnesota State Health Inspector to the stage, if I may.” Joanne smiled shyly at her new best friend, Anderson.
“By all means,” he told her gallantly.
Joanne gestured to the gal with the briefcase. She walked to the podium with an official air, cleared her throat six times, and began to speak. “I am holding proof in my hands that Evangeline O’Hara was the perpetrator and mastermind behind salmonella-gate.” The happy audience turned on a dime. Angry shouts erupted from all corners. A few threw their convention programs at Evangeline, causing her to drop her hair again. Salmonella-gate was no joke here. It was serious fucking business. “We have signed receipts for the illegal substances that were used and copies of checks made out to the people hired to place the poison in the food. Charges will be filed tomorrow. Thank you.” She closed her folder and left the stage.
“Liars, big, fat, ugly, casserole-eating liars,” Evangeline yowled from the floor. She was ignored.
“That brings me to Nancy,” Joanne went on, “also known as Nan Thorenson.” The crowd gasped. “She’s lived in hiding for many years, believing she accidentally poisoned two hundred and fifty innocent bridge players.” Nancy meekly walked onto the stage and took her place next to her friends. Joanne took her hand and announced, “Nancy is the author of all twenty-one of Evangeline O’Hara’s cookbooks.”
The crowd cheered as if Nancy was the new quarterback for the Minnesota Vikings. Anderson Cooper was in hog heaven. The grin that split his face was something to behold.
Once the roar died down, a quiet murmur began. The audience spoke in excited whispers and then a voice broke from the crowd.
“Who wrote her best work?” one lady demanded. “Who wrote the Castaway Series?”
Joanne smiled. “That is one of the finest series ever written,” she agreed. “The Castaway series was written by Fred Smith.”
“Nooooooo,” Evangeline howled like an injured animal. She dragged herself to the podium and pulled herself and her knockers into a standing position. “Fred Smith is a cross-dressing faggot,” she spat into the microphone. “He’s an abomination.”
Fred’s face paled and he sank down to the floor.
“Just wait one second, you over-Botoxed skank,” Joanne yelled. “Fred Smith is not a homosexual. I should know, because we’ve been doing the nasty for over six years, and he’s an animal in the sack!”
A woman in the back added, “My husband wears my underpants. I think it’s hot.”
“That’s nothing,” an older gal from the other side of the lobby shouted. “My man and I go lingerie shopping together. He picks out my stuff and I pick out his!”
“So there.” Joanne stuck her tongue out at Evangeline, who dropped back to the floor . . . boobs first.
I squatted down next to Fred, who was the color of a tomato. “Well, well, well—” I grinned. “Somebody has been busy.” He wouldn’t meet my eyes, but he couldn’t hide his delighted smile.
Anderson Cooper made his way to Joanne. “Joanne, I am clear on how the other people were wronged, but what does that awful woman have on you?”
I froze. My body turned to ice.
“Oh Anderson,” she said, “you’re so sweet to think about me.” He preened under her praise. “Evangeline O’Hara has nothing on me. Nothing. I’m not a writer either. I just couldn’t stand to see my friends persecuted this way.”
Nothing. Ruffing. Nothing. Ruffing. I collapsed on the floor next to Fred and laughed till my sides hurt.
“So you stood by your friends for twenty years? Suffering along with them?” Anderson Cooper sounded amazed.
“That’s what friends do, sweetie,” she said. “Oh, I have made one error. Evangeline did write
Pirate Dave and His Randy Adventures
. . . all by herself.” She grinned evilly.
Pirate Dave and His Randy Adventures
. . . all by herself.” She grinned evilly.
“Goddamn right I did,” the Viper squealed from the floor.
“And the reviews are dreadful,” Anderson said, retrieving them from his desk. “Most offensive dreck ever written . . . Career-ending book . . . Profane and stupid . . . Politically incorrect drivel . . . An abomination.” He grinned.
Still down on the ground next to Fred, I punched him lightly in the arm. “You knew. You knew she had nothing on Joanne.”
“Yes, I knew,” he said.
“Excuse me,” a familiar voice yelled from the crowd. “I’m with the Minneapolis Police Department.”
No fucking way. My heart was pounding so loudly in my chest I was sure it was going to bounce out of my mouth. What was Jack doing here? I stood up slowly and searched the crowd. He was striding across the stage much to the delight of all the ladies in the audience . . . and he was half naked . . .
Dressed in his tight running pants, one shoe, no shirt, and his leather bomber jacket, he still looked like sex on a stick. I felt an insane desire to smack all the women drooling over my man, only he wasn’t my man . . .
“You’re an officer of the law?” Anderson Cooper asked doubtfully of the woefully underdressed hottie striding toward the podium.
“Yep.” Jack flashed his badge and handcuffed a foulmouthed Evangeline. “Mr. Cooper, I was wondering if I could say a few words?”
“Why not?” Anderson threw his hands in the air and grinned. “Everyone else has.”
Jack nodded his head curtly in thanks and approached the podium. My insides got wiggly and I used Fred, Delona, and the wall to hold me upright.
“I would like to say, on, um . . . national TV that I am a jerk. I am also an idiot and an ass-monkey.” He smiled sheepishly, cleared his throat, and scanned the crowd. He didn’t see me. I giggled. I couldn’t believe he’d just said ass-monkey on TV. “Rena, I hope you’re here and if you’re not I pray to God you’re watching this on TV. I want you to know, I love your crazy. My life is empty without you and your crazy . . . Anything I have to do to prove it to you, I will. These last couple of days have been the loneliest and worst of my life.” He ran his hands through his hair and examined the crowd again. I ducked down as his eyes passed my group. Shit, too late. He’d seen me—his delighted half smirk proved it. How in the fuck was everyone recognizing me?
“Holy God almighty,” a lady near me said. “If this Rena gal doesn’t want him, I’ll divorce my husband for some of that.” All the surrounding women agreed.
“I will go to Bigfoot meetings and I will babysit Martians and I’ll, um . . . even remove the giraffe from my back. I will do anything if you’ll give me another chance,” he said, staring right at me. “People don’t believe in love at first sight . . . but the moment I laid eyes on you, my world stopped.”
A huge sigh erupted through the lobby. All the women were atwitter. This was a romance novel come to life.
“I am head over heels in love with you and I can promise you I will treat you a lot better than an Iowa farm boy . . .”
“Man,” Shoshanna corrected him. “An Iowa farm man.”
“Excuse me,” he chuckled. “An Iowa farm man. And I’m definitely a lot warmer than Cardboard Brett Favre.”
My insides began to tingle and my inner slut was urging me to rush the stage and jump him.
“Rena, my life sucks without you in it. Will you please come back to me?”
I held my breath and wondered if we could really make a go of it . . . I looked at the man of my dreams and my fantasies and my reality and I knew . . .
“Is she here?” someone yelled from the crowd. “Because if she’s not, you can come home with me.”
“Me, too,” another yelled. “And you can keep your giraffe, whatever that means.”
“She’s here,” Jack laughed. “She’s definitely here.”
“Answer him already,” a lady toward the front shouted.
“Yeah,” Shoshanna threw in her two cents. “Don’t be a fortune cookie. Answer the poor man. He’s dying up here.”
I couldn’t believe she didn’t say “fucking.” My hands were trembling as I reached up and removed my wig and glasses. I handed them to Delona, who winked at me and gave me a little push. My eyes locked on his and I started the long walk from the back of the room to the stage. The crowd parted magically before me and I couldn’t believe my legs didn’t give out.
My insides were jumbled and I could hear my heart beating wildly in my chest. All the ladies I passed were oohing and ahhing as I made my way to Jack. Tissues were a-plenty. One gal stuffed a wad into my hand. Thank Lutheran Jesus, because my tears were rolling freely down my face.
“This is so romantic,” a woman said as I passed.
“I’m crying. This is making me cry,” another said.
I got to the edge of the stage and raised my arms up to Jack. He lifted me effortlessly and held me in front of him. We stood silently looking at each other. He was the most beautiful man I’d ever met, inside and out. Anderson Cooper hustled over and shoved a hand-held mic into Jack’s hands, effectively ruining the moment. I realized this was all being caught on film and broadcast to the world . . . and I didn’t care.
“Will you give me another chance?” he whispered. Anderson Cooper’s hand wedged between us and pushed the mic closer to Jack’s lips.
I giggled at the craziness of the situation and realized it was fitting. If Jack could deal with something as insane as this and still want me, we would definitely work. I mean, for God’s sake, he called himself an ass-monkey on national television. “Yes, I will give you all the chances in the world . . . as long as you do the same for me.”
“Deal.” He grinned, crushing me against him and planting the hottest, most mind-shattering kiss I’d ever had in my life.
The crowd of romance lovers went berserk.
“I love you,” I said, grinning from ear to ear.
“I love you, too,” he answered. “You do realize I have to arrest you for breaking your restraining order, don’t you?”
“I figured as much.” I shrugged and laughed. “Can we at least screw in your car on the way to the station?”
“Oh my God, yes.” He grabbed me by the arm and practically dragged me from the building. As I was leaving I shouted my goodbyes to Shoshanna, Poppy Harriet, Nancy, Delona, and a very lip locked Joanne and Fred. Who woulda thunk?
I love my life. It’s fucking awesome.
Epilogue
Two weeks later
T
he back room at the country club had been expensive, but worth it. I’d used every last penny from my stash of Aunt Phyllis’s mattress money to host a party for all the people I loved.
he back room at the country club had been expensive, but worth it. I’d used every last penny from my stash of Aunt Phyllis’s mattress money to host a party for all the people I loved.
I glanced around the room and giggled. Vito and Angelo stood in the corner drinking wine and rating racks and asses. They promised, with great sincerity, that no one’s privates would outscore mine. That’s some fucked-up loyalty right there.
Shoshanna brought the newly married Kevin and Steve. They complimented me profusely on
Pirate Dave and His Randy Adventures,
telling me it was the funniest and most frightening thing they’d ever read. All of their friends had replaced the word
penis
in their vocabulary with
pork sword.
As far as compliments go, that was one of the most alarming I’d ever received. Apparently Pirate Dave had become quite the underground hit among the gay community. Thankfully, due to Evangeline’s impending time in the pokey, all the proceeds from the book were going to charity.
Pirate Dave and His Randy Adventures,
telling me it was the funniest and most frightening thing they’d ever read. All of their friends had replaced the word
penis
in their vocabulary with
pork sword.
As far as compliments go, that was one of the most alarming I’d ever received. Apparently Pirate Dave had become quite the underground hit among the gay community. Thankfully, due to Evangeline’s impending time in the pokey, all the proceeds from the book were going to charity.
The Viper’s charges were numerous and ugly; she was looking at anywhere from five to ten years. Somewhere inside myself I felt a little bit sorry for her, but she was bad. What makes a person do the things she did? Even Delona couldn’t shed any light on that one. I had taken her to see her sister at the county jail. I was worried she might kill Evangeline, but she stood quietly and stared at her, pity written all over her face. Evangeline begged Delona to bail her out, but Delona just gave her a Mona Lisa smile and continued to stare. When the Viper realized her sister had no intention of helping her, she swore a blue streak that made even me uncomfortable. Not an easy thing to accomplish.
“Rena.” Vito grabbed me and hugged me in a slightly inappropriate manner.
“Yes?” I kindly disengaged myself from his embrace.
“This is a wonderful party,” he announced.
“Thanks.”
Angelo nodded his agreement. “Most of the asses and racks here rate about a thirty-seven.”
I choked on my own tongue. “What?”
“Don’t worry.” Angelo patted my lower back, dangerously close to my bottom. “You’re a sixty-nine.”
Speechless, I nodded my thanks and decided I would block this conversation out of my head. Permanently.
“Oh,” Vito added, “even though it’s not Italian, the food is tremendous.”
Nancy had outdone herself. She’d insisted on catering the party, free of charge, and there wasn’t any cream of mushroom soup in sight. She had done French cuisine with an Asian twist. It was delicious. Nancy’s catering business was back in demand and she’d received a six-figure advance from one of the big publishing houses for a line of romantic cookbooks.
Speaking of, all the ghost writers had received huge advances and publishing contracts. After twenty years, Fred, Shoshanna, Nancy, and Poppy Harriet were going to be recognized and compensated for their talent.
“I got a job,” Joanne giggled, giving me a squeeze. Fred stood next to her beaming like a besotted high school boy.
“You did?” I asked, grinning at them like an idiot. Their happiness was contagious.
“I’m going to be a traveling correspondent for the
Anderson Cooper Show
! Anderson Cooper had the highest ratings of his career at the convention and he told me I was the main reason!”
Anderson Cooper Show
! Anderson Cooper had the highest ratings of his career at the convention and he told me I was the main reason!”
“Oh my God,” I squealed. “That’s fantastic, but what about . . .”
Fred read my mind and cut me off. “I’ll be traveling with her.” He smiled sheepishly, putting his arm around Joanne. “I can write from anywhere.”
“Rena—” Joanne and her beautiful bushy eyebrows got right up in my face—“none of this would have happened without you. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I whispered as my eyes filled. I bit down on my lip when they informed me they were going to the coatroom to make out. Joanne ran off with Fred following like a puppy.
I laughed when I spotted my sister. Jenny looked terrified standing in the middle of the room flanked by Bigfoot Kim and Soundtrack Hugh. Dirk, who was now legally representing all my friends, was in a deep and animated conversation with Kim about Sasquatch sightings. I prayed to Lutheran Jesus and Brett Favre that he would soon take my place and accompany Aunt Phyllis to her meetings.
“Oh. My. God,” Kristy gasped, pulling me behind some drapes. “Why didn’t you tell me Jack’s new sergeant was so hot?”
“I didn’t know he was. I haven’t met him yet.”
Jack had a new sergeant. Before he’d showed up half naked at the convention, he’d delivered the canceled checks and a hasty explanation to the Minneapolis Prosecuting Attorney’s office. Sergeant Santa and Herbie the Dentist Cop were going down in a bad and very public way. Their disgrace had the added benefit of increased time on Evangeline’s slammer vacation.
“He’s been staring at me all night,” Kristy hissed. “When he asked me my name, I said Carol.”
“Oh my God,” I laughed. “Why?”
“Because,” she moaned in agony, “I forgot mine.”
“Do you want me to fix it?”
“Hell, he’s going to think I’m crazy,” she said, pulling on her wild curls.
“From what I hear, cops like crazy girls.” I grinned.
She froze, her eyes got wide and a goofy smile pulled at her lips. “They do, don’t they? I’ll be back,” she said, hightailing it to find her future husband.
Mom and Delona hit it off beautifully. They were deep in conversation about Fred’s books. Dad, showing admirable restraint, listened grudgingly to Aunt Phyllis’s new theory on the telepathic capabilities of houseflies. I grabbed a glass of champagne when my mother wasn’t looking and realized I was surrounded by my ladies.
“So, are you still moving to Iowa?” Shoshanna teased as she shoved fork food into her mouth with her fingers.
“No, I’m not,” I laughed, completely grossed out by her manners, yet again.
“Will you go back to your old firm?” Nancy asked, handing LeHump a wad of napkins.
“Um, no.” Shit, I so didn’t want to explain my current employment status, but I knew they would harass me until they were satisfied. “Actually, I, um . . . called Iowa first to decline the job and, ah, when I called my office here, they’d already filled my spot.” I felt the heat crawl up my neck. At least it would hide the remnants of the hickey I was still sporting.
“Hold the fuck up,” Shoshanna laughed. “Are you telling me that you spent your every last dime on this shindig and you don’t have a job?”
“I don’t really find it all that funny,” I said.
“Sweet Moses in a Basket,” Nancy gasped. “You’re broke and jobless?”
“That’s fantastic,” Poppy Harriet shrieked, giving Joanne a high five.
The gals bounced up and down with excitement. WTF?
“Tell her,” Joanne insisted, punching Poppy Harriet’s shoulder. “Tell her or I will.”
“Tell me what?”
“Well,” Poppy Harriet said, way too slowly for my nerves. “The girls and Fred and I are in the market for an accountant/business manager. You know, someone to run our finances and guide investments and teach us new terms for the word
penis,
” she giggled. “And it just so happens, right before Walter Garski died, he bought an office complex right here in downtown Minneapolis . . . and it’s still empty!”
penis,
” she giggled. “And it just so happens, right before Walter Garski died, he bought an office complex right here in downtown Minneapolis . . . and it’s still empty!”
I felt a little dizzy. I was fairly sure I knew where they were going with this, but use of the English language had deserted me.
“So,” Joanne cut in, “here’s how we see it. Jack said one of your dreams was to go out on your own and now you will. We’ve already outfitted your new office and Fred has set up an incredible computer system.”
“Walter forbade me to take rent on the place. He needs a tax loss.” Poppy Harriet grinned. “We thought Kristy might like a little space there, too. She could do her paperwork and have a fund-raising staff for the shelter.”
Still, nothing came out of my mouth.
“It’s a big-ass building,” Shoshanna said. “So we’ll all have offices there, too.”
They stood silently and waited. I felt shaky and excited and overwhelmed and scared out of my mind. Could I do this? Could I really have my own firm? Was I good enough to make it work? The penis references were no problem, but handling every aspect of my friends’ financial lives? The prospect made me a nervous wreck, but I was good at this. I loved numbers like they loved words. A feeling of happiness started at my toes and raced through my body, giving me my answer.
“So, what do you say, oh wondrous inventor of the term pork sword?” LeHump asked, knocking me back into my body.
“I say yes,” I whispered as tears spilled down my cheeks.
Shoshanna handed me the wad of napkins and all the gals smothered me in hugs.
“You’re the reason we’re all standing here today,” LeHump said in a rare sentence without a swearword in it. “You saved us and we will never let you go.” If they had told me that the first day I met them, I would have run for the hills. Today it meant the world.
Two strong arms circled me from behind and two lips kissed my neck. I turned and buried my weepy face in Jack’s chest. “Jack”—I looked up at him—“they want me to be . . .”
“I already know, baby.” He smiled and pulled me closer.
I felt tingly all over in his arms. I was in love for real. For the first time in my life, I was head over heels in love. The irony that I had Evangeline to thank for my happiness was bizarre, but I figured the hell she’d put me through made us even.
“Are you having fun?” I asked him, running my fingertips along his lips.
“Yeah”—he smiled his sexy half smirk—“but I have a really good idea.”
“You do?” Excitement took the express shuttle through my body.
“Yep. You see, I have a set of handcuffs burning a hole in my back pocket and a room rented at the hotel down the street.” He discreetly moved my hand down to greet his very happy camper.
“Jack,” I giggled, “we’re at a party.”
“Have you said hello to everybody?” he asked.
“Um, yes.”
“Then I’m afraid I’m going to have to place you under arrest. You will have to come with me now or else I’ll have to restrain you and carry you out of here with force,” he whispered in my ear.
“Will you strip-search me?” I asked, using my hand to make his happy camper even happier.
“I believe that could be arranged.” His quick intake of breath made my knees weak.
“All right, officer, I’ll go with you, but it better be good.”
“Oh baby,” he groaned. “It will be ‘I can’t walk tomorrow’ good.” He grabbed my hand and whisked me out of my own party so quickly, it made my head spin.
I love my life. It’s fucking awesome.
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