Death by Pantyhose (30 page)

The only thing that would put me in the
mood to write this bilge would be a lobotomy.

With Mamie still in my arms, I followed Patti
back inside the house and up to her bedroom, a
hot pink extravaganza (think Fleer's Dubble
Bubble) that led out onto the balcony.

"Inspirational, isn't it?" Patti gushed as we
stepped outside.

"Um. Very."

"How do you like the railing?"

I dutifully oohed and aahed over the elaborate wrought iron scrollwork that bordered the
balcony.

"I had it imported all the way from Verona,
Italy," she beamed. "That's where the real
Romeo and Juliet were born."

I didn't want to bust her bubble and tell her
that Romeo and Juliet were fictional characters,
so just I kept oohing and aahing.

"The workmen just finished installing it yesterday. And I've ordered statues of cupid that'll
be scattered around the garden. Won't that be
romantic?"

Somehow I managed to nod yes.

At which point, she draped herself over the railing and, with great gusto, began mangling Shakespeare:

"Romeo, Romeo, wherefore ares't thou, Romeo?"

At the sound of this exceedingly bad line
reading, Mamie let out a plaintive yowl, as did
Shakespeare, no doubt, from his grave.

l joined Patti at the railing and gazed down at
the rolling green landscape below.

"That's where Dickie proposed to me," she
said, pointing to a wooden gazebo nestled in a
bower of trees. "The Secret Gazebo."

"The Secret Gazebo?"

"We call it that because you can only see it
from up here on the balcony. It's practically impossible to find down on the ground unless you
know where it is."

"A secret gazebo. How romantic."

"I'll say. I've had some pretty kinky sex down
there."

Luckily, she spared me the details.

After assuring Patti that I'd been sufficiently
"inspired," we trooped back downstairs where
she took Mamie from my drool-infested arms.

"So now you know the assignment," she said
with a toss of her ponytail. `Just dash off a scene
where Romeo proposes to me, and I say yes.
Only of course, Juliet's name will be Patti, and
Romeo's name will be Dickie. And get rid of all
the stuffy language. I want it to be snappy and
sassy. Like Friends with swords and long dresses."

By now I was on Auto Nod, bobbing my head
at everything she said, no matter how inane.
Five more minutes with her, and I'd need a neck
brace.

"C'mon," she said, "I'll walk you to your car."

We headed outside just in time to see a bright
yellow VW beetle pull up in the driveway.

"Oh, look, it's Dickie!"

A tall, sandy-haired guy untangled his long
legs from the car.

"Dickie, sweetie!" Patti cried, racing to his side.

She threw her arms around his neck and
locked her lips on his. When they finally came up
for air, she said, "Honey, say hello tojaine. I told
you I hired her to write our wedding vows, didn't
I?-You remember Dickie, don't you, Jaine?"

I looked up at her fiance and took in his shy smile and spiky, slightly tousled hair. There was
something about that smile of his that seemed
familiar, but I couldn't quite place him.

"I'm afraid not."

"It's Dickie Potter. He was in our class at Hermosa."

"Dickie Potter?" I blinked in surprise. "The
same Dickie Potter who played tuba in the
marching band?"

He nodded.

When I last saw Dickie Potter, he was a committed nerd, all knees and elbows, his face
sprinkled with acne, someone Patti never would
have looked at twice. But over the years, he'd
blossomed into a major cutie.

"What a change, huh?" Patti winked.

"Patti and I ran into each other at last year's
Hermosa High reunion," Dickie said, gazing at
her with a worshipful smile.

"Yeah, he took one look at me, and the next
thing I knew he was divorcing his wife."

Patti giggled coyly, the happy homewrecker.

"Poor Normalynne," she said, without a trace
of sympathy. "Didn't know what hit her."

"Normalynne Butler?" I asked, remembering
a tall, gawky girl who played flute in the band.
"You were married to Normalynne?"

"Yes." Dickie nodded ruefully. "I'm really
sorry it ended the way it did."

"Oh, poo. I'm sure she's over it by now," Patti
said, waving away his doubts. "Well, it's time for
Jaine to get out of here and leave us alone."

She threw her arms around him once more,
clearly ready for some wild times in the gazebo.

"It was nice seeing you," Dickie said to me,
over her shoulder.

"Very nice," I said, eager to make my escape
before the action got X-rated. I gave a feeble
wave and was heading for my car, when Patti
called out to me.

"You better not screw this up, Jaine, like you
used to screw up in P.E." She shot me the same
demoralizing look she'd used so effectively all
those years ago in the Hermosa High gym. "You
were such a klutz."

Then she laughed a tinkly laugh for Dickie's
benefit. She wanted him to think she was kidding. But she and I both knew better.

"And don't take too long," she trilled. "I want
the script in my hands the day after tomorrow."

So much for Patti having changed. Whatever
initial burst of goodwill she'd shown me was history.

The bitch was back.