Page 104 of Space Balls: Houston, We Have Liftoff
“Yeah.” He laughs. “Oh.”
An Escalade pulls into the lot, parking a few spots down from mine.
Mike watches a tall, good-looking man hop out from the back. “Ah, that must be my customer.” The man adjusts his jacket, then reaches into the SUV again to pull out what looks like a pet carrier.
“Is that a cat?” I look at Mike, trying not to laugh. “Your customer is a man who carries around a cat?”
“Says the girl with a glitter van and cow print car seat.”
“Touché.”
Mike opens the door. “He’s in the market for a pink Cadillac. Nineteen fifty-five Fleetwood series, just like Elvis bought his mom.”
My eyebrows jump. “He’s a mama’s boy?”
“Nah. It’s for his girlfriend. Not only is she an Elvis fanatic, but she’s also my girl’s best friend.” Mike slides out, catching the guy’s eye and waving.
In the back of my mind, I remember the Elvises at the honky tonk downtown and someone saying something about a cat.
But before I can ask him if his customer had anything to do with it, Mike leans down in the open door. “You know that sayingIt doesn’t hurt to try?”
“Yeah?” I’m wondering if this is the moment he morphs into Wilson from the TV showHome Improvementand lays down his mad wisdom on me.
“It’s a lie.”
“Oh.” Or maybe not.
“Trying can really fucking hurt.”
“Uh, good to know.” I don’t know what else to say.
“But it doesn’t mean it isn’t worth it.”
Ah. There it is.
“Plus”—Mike sighs heavily, like what he’s about to say will cost him—"you deserve to be happy, Rose. Make sure you do all you can to make that happen.” He nods at my stomach. “For youandthe baby.”
I’m too shocked to respond before he closes the door.
He walks over to his cat customer with the Elvis-obsessed girlfriend, then stops, turns, and jogs back to my window.
When it’s lowered, he points at me, face serious. “And for the love of God if Flynn doesn’t know about the baby go tell him now, ’cause I sure as shit don’t want to get caught hiding that from him.”
As he walks away, I know he’s right. First, I need to tell my brothers. Second, I need to figure out how to try again with Vance. Even if it hurts.
Twenty-Four
CharlieFoxtrot
Vance
By the timeI went back to the strip club, everyone was gone. Even the stripper mobile.
“What the fuck did I do?” Dropping my head on the steering wheel, I let my frustration eat at me. In addition to the growing, self-directed anger, there’s an icy feeling slithering beneath my skin, boring its way deep into my bones.
Fear.
I’m so fucking scared I can’t think straight.
