Don't Make Me Choose Between You and My Shoes (5 page)

“I
heard
you, Dippity-do.”

“Ed, don't call me Dippity-do. People will think you're weird.”

Edwina hoisted her chin. “Why, whatever do you mean? I'll have you know, I am not a country pumpkin that can't be trusted in civil libation.” Her indignation collapsed and she grinned. “God, I'm thirsty. Are you thirsty, hon?” She staggered away. “Let's go find a Dr. Pecker.”

Debbie Sue scurried after her. “Ed, stop here. Remember, it's Debbie Sue,
not
Dippity-do, and we've got to get in this line. Don't forget what I said.” Debbie Sue grasped her friend's elbow and steered her toward the uniformed inspector sitting behind a table.

“I need to see your boarding pass and your picture ID,” the woman said in a monotone.

“The officer downstairs already did that.” Edwina started to walk past her.

The woman rose from her stool and blocked her from moving farther. “Ma'am, I'm going to need to see your boarding pass and your picture ID.”

Debbie Sue thrust both her and Edwina's IDs forward. “Here they are. She's just confused.”

The inspector eyed Edwina studiously. “Has your friend been drinking?”

“No, ma'am. No, not at all. She gets airsick and has to take medication. It makes her a little loopy, but she's not drunk. Once she gets on the plane, she'll go right to sleep. Promise.” Debbie Sue didn't even try to disguise the plea in her voice.

“She's right,” Edwina piped up. “I have not been drinking. Well, not yet. I take Dama…Diama…Dammit, I take drugs to keep from blowing chunks. Say, do you know where can I get a Dr. Pecker?”

“What kind of doctor did she say she needed?” the woman said, handing the documents back to Debbie Sue as she continued to look Edwina up and down.

“Dr. Pepper. Apparently her pills make her thirsty, too. Thank you, ma'am. You've been very kind.”

Two down, two to go. Ahead of them, a long-faced older man awaited their approach. He stood straight, arms folded in front of his body, no expression on his face. Apparently one of the requirements for these security jobs was to have no personality. Debbie Sue let out a deep breath and urged Edwina forward.

“Please remove your shoes,” the uniformed man ordered. “Place them with your purse in the basket, then step through the metal detector.”

Debbie Sue turned to Edwina. “Do you want me to help you with your shoes?”

“No thanks. I'll just wear them. They're not heavy.”

“Dammit, I wasn't offering to carry them. You have to take them off. So they can x-ray them.”

Giving the older man the squint-eye, Edwina leaned down and whispered to Debbie Sue, “Do I have to?”

“Yes, dammit. Let me help.” Debbie Sue knelt, unbuckled one of Edwina's platform sandals and slipped it off her foot, then moved on to the other one. She plopped the shoes into
a basket with her own and nudged Edwina toward an arch-way in front of them. “Walk through that little gate. I'll be right behind you.”

As she turned and placed her own purse into the basket alongside Edwina's large cowhide satchel, Edwina obediently walked through the doorway without incident. A woman wearing a uniform like the other employees they had encountered met her on the other side. “May I see your boarding pass, please?”

“We already showed it to that man back there,” Edwina replied.

“I need to see your boarding pass, please,” the woman said firmly.

“Dammit, you people need to get together and figure out who's gonna do what,” Edwina said. “I can tell you right now it's not very efficient having half a dozen people doing the same job.”

“Step aside, please,” the woman ordered.

Debbie Sue walked through and spoke to the inspector, “I'm sorry. I didn't know we needed to show them again. We're traveling together and I put both of them in my purse.”

“Step aside. We'll get them after your belongings clear X-ray.”

“Thank you. Thank you, so much.” Debbie Sue expelled a deep breath of relief and moved through to the clearing area. Once both boarding passes were checked, they were free to move on. Debbie Sue was exhausted, but she grabbed Edwina's shoes and purse. “Well, Ed, we're almost done,” she said.

Spotting a plastic chair, she plopped her load onto the floor, sat down and bent over to put her shoes on. “Now we just need to get to our gate. Look, keep an eye on our purses, okay?” When she heard no response, she straightened and looked around. “Ed?…Ed, where are you?”

Panic zinged through Debbie Sue's chest. Only seconds had passed. How could Edwina have disappeared from her sight? And without her shoes?

Just then she heard a beeping sound and a voice from her left. She turned to see an oversize golf cart inching through a throng of people. “Please step aside,” the driver called out. “Courtesy cart coming through. Please step aside.”

As the cart passed, Debbie Sue saw Edwina, sitting on the backseat facing outward, smiling and waving like some damn beauty queen.

“Hey, Dippity-do,” she yelled. “Let's go take a bite out of the Big Orange.”

“Apple, Edwina, apple,” Debbie Sue mumbled as the cart steadily moved away.

Letting out a string of cuss words, Debbie Sue dashed after it, two purses on one arm, two pieces of carry-on luggage on the other. And Edwina's platform shoes dangling from her hand.

Debbie Sue didn't know yet what the price would be, but she intended to make Edwina Perkins-Martin pay dearly.

C
elina adjusted her pillow and sighed. She had been on the road eleven hours, which equated to eighteen stops in as many whistle stops, towns or cities.

The bus ride hadn't been as bad as she had anticipated. She had passed through some wonderful scenery she wouldn't have been able to notice if she had been driving. Letting someone else battle the traffic snarls was a definite plus. Still, she was anxious to get to her destination. Unfortunately, time wasn't flying by as quickly as her view from the window.

She hadn't been able to sleep much. It had nothing to do with the fact she was on a bus or that she wasn't exhausted. Physically, she was comfortable. What bothered her was the
overweight man sitting in the seat beside her, the one who kept nodding off, his greasy head falling onto her shoulder.

She had gently pushed him back to his side twice. After that, she had resorted to shoving him. Before she pushed him again, she had a flashback of the past six hours, before he had fallen asleep. “Bob” had talked nonstop about his wife. What a joy she was in his life, what a wonderful cook, an angel on earth.

Normally Celina would think this sweet and romantic, but in the hours that had passed since he sat down, he had shown her three pictures that he lovingly described as “my wife.” Each picture was of a different woman. Celina couldn't tell if he couldn't keep his stories straight or if he was lying through his teeth, but because every seat was taken, she hadn't been able to move.

Reaching overhead, she clicked on the privacy light and groaned. Two fifteen in the morning. They should be pulling into Nashville soon for a fifteen-minute stop. Enough time to visit the ladies' room and stretch her legs.

She reached under the seat for her purse and placed it on her lap. She slipped her hand inside and touched an envelope. She brought it up so she again could read her name scrawled across the envelope in masculine script. She opened it and peeked inside, just to make sure the money was still there, then tucked it back into her purse.

As she had boarded the bus in Dime Box, Dewey had waited until the last possible second before handing her the envelope. “This is a little present. Don't open it until you get
to where you're going,” he had ordered as he pushed it into her hands.

Of course she had figured he had given her some money. He knew what the county paid her and he had probably heard from Granny Dee what little money she had in her savings. Celina guessed he had given her a hundred-dollar bill to be used as “mad money.” She waited until she lost sight of him and Granny Dee before tearing open the envelope. Inside, on a piece of three-hole notebook paper, was a simple message:
Have a good trip
.

That, and not one, but three one-hundred-dollar bills.

The gesture had brought tears to her eyes.

Now, thinking back on it, she heaved a sigh. She might not have a huge family, but she was blessed with many good friends. Her life was good, even if the past few hours of it had been shared with a sweaty person of questionable background.

Resting her wrists on her purse, she did a mental inventory of her money. Granny Dee had given her two hundred dollars, calling it “birthday money.” Celina had used most of her meager savings and bought a matching amount in traveler's checks at the grocery store. The additional money Dewey had given her made her feel more secure. She might even have a little extra. This was going to be a great trip.

A nudge against her shoulder alerted her that Bob had awakened. Hadn't he said his destination was Nashville? He had told her so many stories she was confused, but she hoped Nashville would be the end of the line for her and Bob.

He shifted in his seat and pulled his wallet from his hip pocket again and began sorting through his little stack of photographs. All at once, they slipped to the floor, under her feet. Not wanting him to come any closer to her than he already was, she said, “I'll get them.” She tucked her purse at her side and bent forward, retrieving Bob's wallet photos.

“Oh, thank you,” he said when she handed them to him. “You're so kind.”

“You're welcome.” Celina resettled in her seat and returned her purse to her lap.

At last she heard the hiss of the bus's air brakes. Nashville. Thank God. Bob stood and stretched, then gathered his belongings from overhead. He offered his right hand. “It's been nice getting to know you. You have a good time in New York City.”

He exited the bus a few passengers ahead of her. She watched as he crossed in front of the coach and met three women. All three embraced him. They bore a striking resemblance to the photos he had shown her earlier. The three of them disappeared into the crowd.

You just never know
, she thought.

She made her way to the ladies' room. Fortunately, she didn't have to stand in line. After washing her hands and straightening her hair and clothing, she searched out the concessions area. Hours had passed since she had eaten a sandwich for supper in a town she didn't even know the name of. A bottle of juice and a candy bar sounded good.

She found a candy vending machine and opened her purse
to reach for her wallet. Suddenly her heart plummeted. The envelope with her name on it was gone. Had she accidentally pulled it out of her purse and dropped it?…No. She had tucked it back into her purse securely just an hour or two ago. Who had been near her purse? The realization hit her like a hammer.

Bob
.

Heart pounding, she looked around, knowing as she did that he was long gone.

The jerk! The crooked jerk!
He had distracted her by dropping his pictures on the floor, then stolen her money. She was such an idiot. A naïve idiot. She fought back tears, the idea of juice and a candy bar no longer appealing. Dejected, she trudged back to the bus and reclaimed her seat.

She pawed through her purse one more time, hoping to find the envelope crumpled in the bottom, but to no avail. All she found was a wadded up Kleenex. She pulled it out and dabbed her eyes.

“Is this seat taken?”

The question startled her and she looked up. Looming over her was a skinny young guy she guessed to be about eighteen. His hair was bright green. His neck and arms were inked with colorful tattoos. Jewelry protruded from various piercings on his face. A tiny silver arrow looked to have been driven through one eyebrow, and each earlobe had a large hole into which a copper penny had been inserted.

Ouch
.

She had to force herself not to stare. She had seen people
with multiple tattoos and body piercings when she had been in college, and she saw them when she went to Austin. But she couldn't think of a one who lived in Dime Box, Texas. She had never sat within one foot of someone whose face sported more metal than a hardware store.

She managed a smile and said, “Uh, no.”

Earphones hung around the young man's neck and an MP3 player filled his hand. He plopped into the seat beside her, plugged in his earphones and closed his eyes. Something made her feel confident that he wouldn't disturb her, though she didn't know why. Hadn't she already proved her judgment wasn't worth spit? She zipped up her purse, placed the handle over her wrist and tucked it tightly under her arm. She closed her own eyes and slept straight through two states.

 

“Edwina,” Debbie Sue said louder than she wanted to. She jostled Edwina's shoulder. “Try to wake up. We're getting ready to land.”

To her relief the flight had gone without incident. Edwina had fallen asleep the moment she was seated and had slept the entire trip. She had snored, mumbled incoherently and passed gas, but she had not thrown up. Debbie Sue's biggest fear had not happened.

“Ed, are you awake?”

Edwina opened one eye. “Why did you wake me when we're still in the air? Why didn't you wait 'til we landed?”

“I want to be sure you're awake enough to walk off the damn plane.”

Edwina raised her head from the tiny pillow the flight attendant had given her and patted her hair with both hands. “How did I get on the damn plane?”

“I got a wheelchair. When they called early boarding for anyone traveling with children or physical limitations, I rolled you on.”

Edwina's head turned toward her slowly and she looked at Debbie Sue through one half-closed eye. “You're kidding, right?”

“Hell, no, I'm not kidding. You have no idea what a pain in the ass you were before we boarded.”

“I warned you. You can't say I didn't. I told you outright that I'd be drunk.”

“Look, let's not fuss. C'mon, look out the window and try to see the city skyline.”

“You look out the window. I'd just as soon wait and see it from the ground.”

Debbie Sue was peering out the window when the plane suddenly dropped like a roller coaster, rose, then dropped again. A collective “whoa” chorused from the passengers.

Edwina smiled triumphantly. “See? It's crap like that that makes me sick if I don't take something. It's not the flying that bothers me, it's those sudden dips and…Debbie Sue?…What's wrong?”

Debbie Sue only half heard Edwina's words. She felt extremely warm. She broke into a cold, clammy sweat as nausea overcame her. She licked her lips and reached up to adjust the direction of the air. “It's hot in here.”

“Uh-oh. Lord, I know that look. You're whiter than
a marshmallow. Do you need a barf bag?” Edwina rifled through the magazines in the pocket on the back of the chair in front of her.

“I don't think so. I'm just feeling yucky all of a sudden.” Debbie Sue held her head with her left hand as she rocked back and forth in her seat.

“Irony's a bitch, ain't it? Here I was worried about getting sick and now
you
are. I never felt better in my life. That little swoop up and down and then up—”

Debbie Sue's stomach made another roll. “Ed, please. Could you just be quiet for a second? If I can make it 'til the plane lands, I'll be okay.”

A deep male voice announced their approach to La Guardia and reminded all passengers to return to their seats and fasten their seat belts.

Edwina reached under her feet and began to dig. Debbie Sue cast a dubious eye in her direction. “Ed, you're making things worse. Can't you just sit still? What in the hell are you looking for?”

“I've got perfume in my bag. I'm gonna dab a little on. So I'll smell good for New York.”

“What kind of perfume?”

“Jungle Gardenia.”

Debbie Sue rolled her eyes and wiped her damp brow with her sleeve. “Oh, my God. I'll throw up for sure.”

Edwina began to chuckle.

“What's so damn funny?”

“You know what? You just can't buy good times like this, kiddo. Nosiree, you just can't.”

“Well, you probably could,” Debbie Sue grumbled, “but I don't know who'd be dumb enough to think they could sell 'em.”

With the plane safely on the ground, passengers jostled one another to retrieve their overhead luggage. Debbie Sue remained seated and continued to fan herself with her magazine. She still felt shaky and didn't trust her legs to carry her up the aisle. Edwina, on the other hand, greeted each person who passed.

“Y'all have a good time,” she told a stodgy couple, reaching across Debbie Sue's face to pat the husband on the arm and smothering Debbie Sue with a cloud of gardenia scent. “Hey, now, y'all don't get into any trouble,” she called to a young couple.

“Ed, just let them get off,” Debbie Sue said through clenched teeth.

Edwina gasped and flopped back in her seat. “Fine, grumpy. I'll just sit here and not say a word.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Everyone had disembarked before Debbie Sue finally felt able to make a move. “I think I'm feeling better. Let's go. But I want to stop off at a ladies' room.”

“I'll go to baggage claim,” Edwina volunteered.

Panic seized Debbie Sue again. “No. Oh, no, you don't,” she said firmly. “We stay together. You come into the restroom with me.”

Inside the ladies' room, Debbie Sue found an empty stall
and pulled her phone from her purse. She keyed in a number and waited for Buddy's voice.

“Hey, Flash,” he said enthusiastically. “Are you in New York?”

“We're here. We just got off the plane.”

“So how was the trip? Did Ed get sick?” He laughed. “Man, she wasn't kidding about getting drunk on those pills, was she?”

“No, she wasn't kidding. She did just fine. I'm the one who got sick.”

“You? Why, darlin'? Did you eat something you shouldn't have?”

“I don't think so. I guess it was the excitement of the trip. And I've been so worried about Ed. Then the plane did one of those extreme hoopty-doos, kind of like the roller coaster at Six Flags. Maybe the worse thing that could happen on this trip already has. Maybe the rest of the week will be a piece of cake.”

“God, I hope so. Wherever you two go, trouble seems to follow.”

“There won't be any trouble,” Debbie Sue said quickly. The last thing she wanted was for Buddy to be distracted from studying for his test. “I promise. We'll be fine. I love you.”

“I love you too, Flash.”

Debbie Sue disconnected. Buddy was wrong. Trouble didn't always follow her and Ed. Not always. Sometimes they just flat-out went out and found it.

But she hadn't come to the NAPI conference to do that.
She was here as a professional and she was determined to present herself as such. She intended to make Texas proud of the Domestic Equalizers.

Just then she heard Ed's cackling laughter echo off the tiled walls. No telling what had prompted that. Her mom's latest award-winning country-western song passed through Debbie Sue's mind: “Anything Worth Doing Ain't Easy.”