Page 19 of Space Balls: Houston, We Have Liftoff
Helen gives me the eye,but I avoid it.
“Wait.Isthere a spread eagle back bend?” Myra asks, hands out as she tries to balance on sky-high platform shoes. “’Cause that sounds like something I could get into.”
“No, Myra.” Angela sets up a balance chair next to the pole for the eighty-something-year-old woman. “And for the love of God, please put your sneakers back on. The last thing you need is a broken ankle.” She mumbles something about not wanting to be sued under her breath.
Myra’s thin red lips pout. “Hmph.” But she sits and begins to unstrap her shoes. “I may have been a tad ambitious with this heel height. I’ll have to go back to Cindy’s and get the lower pair.”
The thought of Myra in Cindy’s, the local sex toy and apparel shop, is going to keep me smiling for days.
Once Myra’s back in sneakers, Angela claps her hands. “Let’s start with some stretches.”
We all touch our toes. Myra and Helen met in an advanced silver sneakers yoga class, so they breeze through the stretches.
I go through the motions, but my mind is still on Bodie. Or Vance. Whatever the hell his name is.
I hate when one-night stands show up like a bad penny. I mean, the guy said he was more co-worker than friend to Jackie, so I honestly didn’t think I’d see him unless it was at some NASA sanctioned event. And considering how the last NASA event I went to ended up with me in the back of a police car, I hadn’t been planning on attending many more. Which meant heshouldhave been a relatively safe choice.
“How do you know my Vance, Rosie?” Helen asks, her long, dark braid swinging forward as she places her leg on the chair seat and bends forward as graceful as any ballerina. She’s aged that way too, if she’s old enough to be Vance’s mother. They don’t look much alike, Helen far more delicate and feminine than her son, but their coloring is the same.
I stand, swaying a bit as the blood rushes away from my head. I’ve been so caught up in my thoughts I hadn’t realized we’d moved on to a new stretch.
Myra, sitting on the ground doing a butterfly stretch, leans back and gives Helen a sly smile. “Ooo, I smell a story, Rosie.”
Helen and Myra are the only ones I let call me Rosie. In my opinion, if you’ve spent the majority of your life paying your dues and your taxes to Uncle Sam, you’re entitled to say whatever the fuck you want.
I drop my three-pound heel on the chair in front of me with a thunk and bend over it.
“Apparently they met at a wedding.” Helen’s tone is way too nonchalant to be normal.
“Oh?” Myra draws out the sound. “Is that right?”
Every marriage-aged person would be able to hear the tone and hidden meaning in that seemingly innocuous syllable. I may only be twenty-one, but in Texas, a lot of people count that as settle-down time.
Taking a breath and letting it out, I keep my eyes focused on the glitter floating in the platform of my heels. “I already boinked him, guys. I’m not going back for more.” That may be TMI for Vance’s mother, but I need to nip this in the bud now before any matchmaker machinations start forming in their minds.
However, it is a testament of just how awesome my retiree friend posse is that they don’t flinch. Not even Helen.
Instead, she throws a glare in the direction of the door Vance just left through that would make any grown man wary. “Don’t tell me my son doesn’t know how to please a woman.” She pulls her leg off the chair and places her hands on her hips, looking like a petite general of war. “I already had the sex talk with him when he was fourteen, after I caught him in my kitchen with his hand up Minnie Frey’s blouse.”
I bite my lip at that mental picture.
“I even made him take notes.”
I give up and laugh, straightening beside the chair. “If I ever have kids, I’m totally doing that. You’re total mom-goals, Helen.”
That gets a smile out of her. “My in-depth and detailed talk ensured he was safe, knew what he was doing, and that everyone would be happy.” Helen’s grin turns evil. “Of course having your mother describe what the clitoris is, where it can be found, and how to stimulate it also helped kill whatever pubescent hormones were raging inside him at the time.” She folds her chair and moves it to the side of the stage. “Gave me a few more years before I had to worry about him knocking someone up.”
I continue laughing, leaning on the back of my chair for support. “This is why we are friends, Helen. You have so much to teach me about the ways of adulting. You’re a genius.”
“You’re doing fine on your own, Rosie. You just need to have more confidence in yourself.”
I scoff. “Not to question your wisdom, Helen, but no one has ever accused me of lacking in confidence.” I gesture to my tight, sequined spandex attire before folding up my chair. “Case in point.”
“Rosie, Rosie. I’m not talking about confidence in your body, I’m talking about confidence here.” She taps where my heart would be, making my left boob jiggle.
We both bite our lips to keep from laughing.
“If you two are done feeling each other up, I’ve got a pole I’m ready to mount.” Myra, standing stage left, circles her pole like a boxer waiting for the bell.
