Lucky Number Four Page 5

  “There you are. I’ve fucking looked everywhere for you. Are you feeling okay? You look feverish.” Julie’s voice startles me, and I see her forehead worry line appear.

  “No, just a little warm. Enjoying yourself?”

  “Kevin is. We’ll probably have to drag his ass home. That boy can’t hold his liquor for shit. Are you sure you’re okay?” She puts the back of her hand to my forehead and shakes her head. “No fever. Maybe we should call it a night. It’s packed out there, and frankly, this isn’t my scene.”

  “Yeah, I feel the same way. Let’s get drunk boy and head home.” I need to get the image of my encounter with Colin out of my brain.

  We make our way into the crowd, searching for an inebriated Frankenstein, and after some pushing and shoving, I catch a glimpse of a Modelteer. I push farther from him. Julie squeals as she spots Kevin gyrating by himself to the music. We each take an arm and make our way to the front door.

  “Why are you movin’ me sooooo earlier,” Kevin mumbles out.

  “You’re going to have a major fuckin’ hangover as it is. Any more liquor and you’ll be in bed for days, that’s why.” Julie sounds pissed off, but I know her. She’s gloating that Kevin will suffer for his stupidity.

  “I’m totackly in charck of my facials.” We both laugh at his attempt at being coherent.

  Thirty minutes later, we’re home, and Kevin, minus his costume, is tucked in bed.

  “Want something to drink?” Julie yells from the kitchen.

  “No, I think I’m going to head upstairs and pour myself into bed. It’s been a long week and I have work tomorrow.”

  “Something happened tonight. Spill.” Julie’s radar is up and spot-on.

  “I’m just tired,” I say, and Julie pegs me with a glare. “Okay, quit looking at me like that. It’s creepy. If looks could kill, I’d be dead.” Julie smiles. “I had a little encounter before you found me in the bathroom.”

  “An encounter? Well, hurry up and share. Inquiring minds need to know.” She sits opposite me, her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. A perfect picture of sluttiness.

  “It was Colin. I came out of the bathroom and was ready to put my Velcro skirt back on after peeing.”

  “For fuck sake, Dora, get to the juicy part.” Julie’s frown line is so deep it looks like it might stay permanently.

  “Well, he came up to me and had this super smexy grin, and he pushed me up against the wall—gently, of course, because he’s a gentleman—and then he kissed me. Geez, Jules, I could have jumped his bones right there in the hallway. My ex never made me feel this way. I was a total hot mess. I wanted to wrap my legs around his waist, but my legs were like limp noodles. That man can start a blaze.” I close my eyes, remembering the feel of his hard body pressed against mine and the frustration of the clothes between us. Yep, I was a totally wanton woman. “Then we were interrupted. I remembered where we were and who I was and the fact that I don’t run in the same circles, and I stopped him. It wasn’t easy, but I did it. Jules, I should have been dressed as a slut tonight, because I totally felt like one after.”

  “Dora, what the hell are you talking about? You’re not a slut, just a horny woman who’s desired by an equally horny, hot man. I think you should go upstairs and wait in his bed.” She pauses to put a red-nailed finger to her chin in contemplation. “Yes, I think that’s an excellent idea. Get your ass up there and go for it. He fucking wants you. You know you want him too.” Julie reaches forward and grabs my hands to emphasize her point.

  “Nope, not going to do it,” I say before standing up quickly and making my way toward the door.

  “You won’t forgive yourself if you don’t. You’ll always wonder what you missed. I’m betting you’re missing a whole bunch of fast, slow, dirty, sweaty sex. Makes me wet just thinking about it.” Julie flops back in the chair.

  “Night, Jules,” I say loudly as I close the door behind me and head for the stairs.

  I glance over at the clock again and cringe at the realization that it’s one a.m. and six in the morning is going to come really quick, and the coffee shop is always packed on Saturdays. I’ve been thinking about my encounter with Colin, his sizzling kisses, his rock hard body, and something else that was rock hard too.

  A sound interrupts my musings. I hear a muffled voice coming from the door that leads to the living room. Creeping out of bed, I put my ear up to my door and hear Colin, Drew, and Liam’s voices, several more male voices I don’t recognize and a mess of female ones too.

  Great, they brought the party home. How the hell am I supposed to sleep with Colin and a bunch of women in the next room? Okay, so maybe they aren’t with Colin, but maybe my rejection turned him off. What the hell? I don’t want him. He doesn’t want me.

  Irritated, I leave the door and flop down on my bed. It’s going to be a long night.

  I am so wound up. She’s just on the other side of the door. I shouldn’t have kissed her tonight. At first I thought she was enjoying it, but pushing me away made me think I made a huge mistake. I want to knock on her door and apologize, but I’m really not sorry. She was just as I imagined, so giving, and she made me realize she is who I’ve been searching for. I will let things calm down a couple of days and then maybe approach her. I can’t screw this up, I really can’t. She is it.

  The next few weeks fly by, and the weather has changed drastically. I haven’t seen my roommates since Halloween. The Sunday before Thanksgiving, Julie, Kevin, and I find ourselves on the way to my parents’ house for dinner. I had been able to avoid it for weeks, but the threat of my mom driving to the city to see me convinces me to go. I finally broke down and told them about my move, and my mom seems okay with it.

  The traffic is light and it doesn’t take us long to get to the house. Both of my grandparents’ cars are parked outside, which is no surprise since unless they’re in the hospital or majorly sick in bed, they’re always here.

  My family is dysfunctional, just saying. My mom is like I said before, a true medium/psychic. My dad is pretty normal, considering he’s put up with my mom all these years. My fifteen-year-old sister is a self-absorbed teen—always texting, concerned about boys, hair and clothes, in that order. My seventeen-year-old brother is a popular jock—always surrounded by a crowd of admirers. Luckily, he doesn’t let it go to his head, and is a really nice guy. I know it’s weird that a sister describes her brother as nice, but it’s the truth.

  Now the grandparents…where do I start? My mom’s parents are…well, my granddad, George Anderson, is a normal quiet guy. He usually lets Alice, aka Grandma, do all the talking, which she does too well. She’s so outspoken that sometimes it can be downright embarrassing. My dad’s mom, Beatrice Jones-Phillips, is snooty. She’s materialistic and looks down on others not of her status. My grandfather on my dad’s side passed over five years ago from a heart attack, which many, including my mom, believe my grandmother caused. I’m not saying my grandmother—yes, we call her Grandmother—is evil, she just lives on another realm, above ours. She’s the one who wanted to send me to that finishing school.

  “Are we going in, or are you going to sit in the car and daydream all day?” Kevin’s voice interrupts my thoughts.

  “Yeah, let’s get this over with.”

  Julie opens the passenger door as I open mine.

  The front door is flung open by my brother Mike, whose tortured look says everything. “Where have you been? It’s been hell in here. Mom says I can leave as soon as we eat, so let’s get eating,” he says, accepting my hug.

  “Hey, dude, lighten up. We’re here,” Kevin replies, ruffling his hair. “It can’t be all that bad.”

  “It’s more than bad. Grandma and Grandmother are really at it today, and Dad is MIA. He went to the store more than an hour ago. Wish I had gone with him.”

  “Where’s Bridget?” I ask, not wanting to go into the house now.

  “She’s in her room, where else? Said she won’t come down until the food is
being served. I made the mistake of being thirsty and snuck down for a drink and got caught up in the mess,” Mike groans.

  Julie giggles, grabs his arm and pulls him into the house. I follow, closing the door, ready for the battle.

  “Oh, here they are!” My mom, Sarah Phillips, is a vision of beauty, not a hair out of place on her blonde head and her makeup is done up perfectly. She moves her slim form forward and gives us all a hug. My mom is a major hugger and she gives the best and warmest hugs.

  “Pandora, have you put on a little weight?” Grandma Alice looks me up and down and then envelops me in an overpowering perfumed embrace. She is as short as I am, that’s where I get my height. My siblings were blessed with the tallness of my father’s side. Andersons have a slight weight problem, whereas on the Phillips side, extra weight wouldn’t dare show up. “You look better with a little more fluff around the middle. You were too skinny a couple weeks ago. Your boobs even look a little bigger. Don’t they, George?”

  My poor granddad looks like a deer caught in the headlights, obviously not knowing how to respond. You would think after all these years, he’d be prepared.

  “How crass, Alice, really?” Grandmother Phillips, tall and willowy, has her say. “Is that any way to talk to our granddaughter? Except for her wardrobe choice, she looks fine.”

  “Beatrice, don’t you think it’s time to get that stick out of your high and mighty ass for once?” Grandma chuckles, and we all cover our mouths to hide the smiles that appear at her words.

  “Now, Mom and Beatrice, we’ll be having guests, so I want you to be on your best behavior, please!” Mom interjects sternly, knowing it’s no use. They’ll behave the way they want to and nobody will change that.

  “Guests?” I ask, looking at my mom and then past her to the dining room table, quickly counting the number of plates and silverware laid out. Three extra?

  Three?

  Oh no. Tell me it’s not true.

  The doorbell rings and my mom gives a sigh of relief and pushes past us to open the door. Why am I not surprised? There stand my drool-worthy, bodacious roommates, smiling as if they know they’re giving me heart palpitations.

  How could Mom do this to me? I mean, things have been going just fine, and then my mother takes it upon herself to invite them to Sunday’s Hell Table. Yes, I said “hell” on Sunday. Sue me. I’m only speaking the truth. Just you wait and see.

  “Well, hello. It’s so nice to finally meet you boys,” my mom gushes.

  Boys? Freakin’ hell, they are definitely not boys.

  Their grins get bigger and Drew pulls a bouquet of red roses from behind his back, presenting them to my Mom. She’s actually blushing, which I’ve never seen before.

  We hear a car door shut, hailing my dad’s return. The next few minutes are chaotic, and I can’t and won’t begin to describe it. The introductions are finally over and we sit at the dining room table, surrounded by my mom’s mouthwatering food. Everyone is here except for Bridget, and when Mike is asked to go and get her, he pulls out his cell and calls her. We laugh and he just shrugs.

  We hear the thud of feet on the stairs and she finally appears. Bridget is tall and willowy with blonde hair, just like Mom’s and Mike’s. No, I’m not adopted. In his youth, my dad had red hair just like me, but in his twenties it went a brownish color. Now the red only shows up in the sun.

  As she walks to her seat, Bridget’s fifteen-year-old mouth is hanging open and her eyes are wide. Her cell, which is her whole world, falls to the carpet, taking a bounce.

  “Honey, close your mouth and come sit so we can introduce you to Dora’s new roommates.”

  Like a zombie, she moves and sits next to our dad, mouth still open like a baby bird waiting to be fed. Dad reaches over and pushes her lower jaw up, which seems to shock her back to reality. She frantically looks down at her hand, and then heaves a sigh of relief as Mike hands over her cell.

  “Put that away. It’s rude. Now this is Drew, Liam, and Colin. And guys, this is Bridget, our youngest,” Mom explains as Bridget stares, but at least her mouth is closed.

  I can tell she wants to call her “posse,” as she refers to them, or at the very least film the three models in front of her in order to post the video to her Vine account. I thought only guys had possees, but she quickly informed me a few years ago that I was wrong. The food starts to be passed around, and I think maybe my family might actually behave for once.

  “So, what’s it like to be queer nowadays?” Grandma asks, plopping a mound of mashed potatoes on her plate. I choke on the sip of water I’ve just taken and turn bright red as my dad, who is sitting on my right-hand side, thumps me hard on the back. I don’t want to raise my head. I wish a hole would just open up in the floor and swallow me whole.

  “Well, Mrs. Anderson, it’s better for us gays in today’s world. We still can’t get married in every state, but I see that happening one day soon,” Drew says smoothly with a straight face. The straight face doesn’t work as well for Julie, who’s laughing so hard she’s turning redder than I have ever been.

  “That was a rude question, Alice. As usual, you have completely lost your manners, what little you started with,” Grandmother says, sticking her nose in the air.

  “Oh, come on. You wanted to ask them yourself. You know you did, but that stick prevents you.”

  “Mom and Beatrice that’s enough. You’re embarrassing our guests, and I won’t have it. Now shush and let’s say grace.” My poor mom, I bet she wants a hole to open up beneath her too.

  “We might offend the q—gays if we do that. Do you guys say grace?”

  At least she said “gays” this time. Drew, Liam, and Colin look at each other and then, as always, the other two leave it up to Drew to answer.

  “We’re fine with grace. In fact, we go to church every Sunday and say our prayers at night.”

  Julie has tears freely flowing down her now purple-looking face, which she quickly hides in her hands. Kevin is trying hard to keep a straight face—get it? Straight. Mike is grinning. The other men, my dad and granddad, are looking at the two grandmothers like they can’t believe their ears.

  “Well then, Dora, please say grace.” My mom looks at me and mouths the word “help.” Feeling sorry for her, I comply.

  The prayer seems to calm the table. At least Julie is getting her old color back and has quit her silent, laughing fit. Bridget hasn’t said a word and is still in her star-struck world. Mike is grinning and shoveling in his food, and the rest of us are just eating.

  “It must be exciting being models and traveling all over the world,” my mom says to the three across from me.

  “It’s a lot of hard work and not as glamorous as everyone thinks,” Colin replies. I so love his voice. “Sometimes we’re on set for hours at a time. We’re all lucky to be free until after the first of the year. This is the first break we’ve had in more than a year. It’s nice to relax and do what we want.”

  I’m surprised at his revelation that they’re all going to be hanging around for the next few months. My classes end the second week of December, and I was hoping I would have the whole apartment to myself. They’ll probably have wild parties every night, and though I like parties just as much as the next person, there’s no way I’ll fit in. Yes, I enjoyed the first night at the apartment and was shocked at the normal people they had over, but a party … I’m sure that will be different.

  “Earth to Dora,” Grandma says loudly, and I cringe at being in the spotlight, knowing anything could come out of her mouth. “Great, now that I have your attention. I was a little upset when I heard you’d moved in with three men. I don’t believe in single people of the opposite sex sharing a space together. But when I realized they were, how do you say? I heard it on a talk show the other day. Batter up? No, that’s not it. It has something to do with bats though. Now, what was it?”

  “There you go again. Do you even think before you talk, Alice? I swear. I, for one, don’t approve of her living
with these…men. Even though they’re different. It’s not what a proper young lady should do.” Grandmother is on a roll.

  “I know what it was!” Grandma yells, ignoring Grandmother. “It’s called ‘bat for the other team,’” she says smugly, as if she’s just answered the final Jeopardy question and won all the money.

  Mike and the three hot stuffs can’t hold back their laughter. Suddenly, we’re all laughing, except for Mom and the Grands’. Poor Mom. What did she expect? Having the minister from our church over wasn’t even enough to stop the Grands’, so why would she think this time would be any different?

  “Okay, that’s enough, Mom and Beatrice. Let’s eat,” my mom demands, and of course the two elders act so innocent. The food is delicious, and I finally start relaxing, hoping the worst is over.

  I spend most of my time after dinner doing the dishes. I don’t want to hear the conversation in our living room. God only knows what’s being discussed. A reluctant Bridget and Julie join me—after I grab their arms and drag them into the kitchen.

  “Gosh, D, how the heck did you end up with them? I mean, really, do you know who they are? They’re famous!” Bridget takes the dish from my hand and absently begins drying it, a dreamy look on her face. “They’re not gay, are they? Tell the truth. I swear I won’t tell.” She rambles on and Julie just stands there smiling.

  “No, they’re not,” I say, handing Julie a dish to dry.

  “Oh, wow. Wait until I tell the posse. It’s not fair Dad took my phone. I mean, geez, did he think I’d call all of them and have them come over and share this with me? Well, I might have. I mean, who’s going to believe they were here? I need a phone, D, please?” Bridget’s blue eyes plead with mine.

  “We don’t need any more drama, but maybe I can take a picture of you with them. Okay?” I say, taking pity on my poor sis.

  “OMG that would be so awesome!” Bridget’s smile can’t get any larger.

  “I wish I smoked or drank,” my mom’s voice startles us.