Queenie Read online

  “I barely recognized you without a kid attached to your tit.”

  “Watch it, Queenie, I’ll take those back and use them for the funeral tomorrow.”

  I hop from the stage, careful not twist an ankle in these heels and envelope Luna in a hug.

  “Thank you so much for coming. Means the world to me.”

  “Oh my God,” she steps back and gropes at both of my boobs. “Those things are solid legit.”

  I can’t help but laugh, immediately recognizing her tipsy nature. “Only the best, meow.”

  “It was Blanche who brought us all together. We had no idea, Queenie.”

  I peer up to see my Blanchey-Boo with her arms crossed and a very satisfied smile resting on her face. Hell may freeze over with Blanche letting go of some of her anger and hatred to bring the girls together. She’s the last to wrap me up in a hug.

  “You deserve to be honored for who you are, Queenie,” she whispers in my ear. “I love you.”

  I don’t let her go as quickly as I did the others. “Nice job putting aside your hatred and inviting Moira.”

  “I need to do a flea dip when I get back from riding in the same car as Moira the whoira.”

  “Baby steps, Blanche, baby steps.”

  “Shots.” A screeching voice fills the air and we both turn to see Luna on top of the bar shaking her ass like she’s on scene for “Coyote Ugly”.

  “Jesus,” Blanche mutters.

  “Let the girl out of the cage and she’s gone.”

  Luna downs three or four shots, before passing a shot glass around to all of us and is adamant we have to toast.

  “Did you drink yours, Blanche?”

  “Calm your tits, Luna, I just smelled it.”

  Blanche kicks the tip of my shoe once, then again a bit harder and finally getting my attention by kicking the sensitive part of my shin. Yes, sensitive because I’ve bleaching it daily since the incident.

  “Jesus, Blanche.”

  She sends me a sideways glare and then eyes the shot glass.

  “Oh shit,” I whisper, it took me several moments to figure out her dilemma. Thank God, Luna chose Vodka since it’s clear.

  “Just a second ladies, I need to say good bye to a fan.”

  I sneak behind the bar and pretend to lean over and talk to an old man sitting on the other side. I’m pretty sure he’s passed out or possibly dead. I dump out my shot glass and shoot some water in it under the bar. Luna continues to argue with the girls about who is toasting first, before she plops down on the bar sitting cross-legged.

  “I’m back, loves.” Swiftly, I exchange shot glasses with Blanche.

  In a circle, we all raise our shots with smiles beaming from all of us.

  “To us. The mighty Beavers from Beaver Falls. We’re not perfect and hell some of us hate each other, but the important thing is we have each other,” Blanche says.

  “And to my family,” I add.

  Our shot glasses clink and we drink. Luna continues to drink and drink until she can’t even walk. She does about three somersaults out the door before finally giving in and letting me carry her to the car.

  Chapter 6

  Death By Doug

  I’m not sure what is more annoying right now, Luna dry heaving and her non-stop bitching or the sexy glances Doug keeps sending my way. At one point, he frenched the fucking whistle right in front of me. My dick shriveled and died.

  “What the hell is up with Doug today?” Blanche turns and asks me.

  I’ve never been good with a poker face, so I fight like a bitch to conceal the guilt. “Who knows? Maybe hitting on Moira.”

  I’m so going to hell. Lying to my best friend and now blaming poor whore Moira.

  Shit, shit, shit…I’m never getting drunk and freeing my willy in Beaver Falls again.

  “He keeps looking at you with fuck me eyes. Moira is a good ten feet away.” Blanche doesn’t give up. She’s like a fucking drug-sniffing dog on a mission.

  “Who knows with that creep? He’s probably flirting with you to piss off Moira.”

  “I don’t think so, Queenie.” Blanche keeps her vision glued on the game, while studying Doug’s movements while he refs.

  “I’m sure he’s just fueling the fire between you and Moira.”

  Blanche turns to me and slaps my arm. “I forgot to tell you.”

  “Ouch.” I rub the stinging pain out in my arm. “What?”

  She pulls down her oversized, designer shades. “Old lady Woy was gossiping with my mom the other day at the funeral home when delivering flowers.”

  “God, what now? The old biddy knows everyone’s business.”

  My question is put on pause as Saige makes another goal for the team. Our sideline goes wild and it’s quite the change from our first game. Us Beaver Falls' parents have really banded together to cheer on our kids.

  “It’s about Douchey Doug,” she finally replies.

  My butt cheeks clench in fear of what her next words are going to be. ‘I’m busted’ flashes in neon lights across my forehead.

  “She saw Doug and…”

  Luna leaps from her seat on a rampage about a penalty call against our team. Quite frankly, I still don’t understand this game and just focus on which end our team is suppose to kick to. Brady pulls her back down in her seat, holding her down by the top of her shoulders.

  “Calm down, killer,” he coos to her.

  “Don’t you think it’s odd how close Moira is sitting to the coach and not Luna?” I try to distract Blanche.

  “No, she’s a whoira. Listen, dammit,” Blanche swivels in her seat. “She saw Doug and Moira making out. I guess it was pretty heated with clothes flying everywhere. Can you fucking believe she’s still going for him to piss me off?”

  All the tension and fear evaporate from me, and I relax back into my chair. “Maybe she was horny? It happens to the best of us.”

  “No, she’s still trying to one up me.”

  “Whatever, you don’t even like Doug.”

  “Ewwww. He’s so gross. I wouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot pole or have sex with him if we were the last man left on Earth.”

  “She was probably horny,” I say again, knowing the damn feeling all to well.

  “And desperate and dumb…”

  Clancy interrupts us and I praise the blowjob gods.

  “You need to calm down. Remember what the doctor said.” Clancy gets down on one knee in front of her and begins kissing her.

  “I’m calm.” She manages to get out between kisses.

  He pulls back just enough to talk. “I can see your brows scrunched up and the pissy Blanche stare from the sidelines.”

  He kisses her several more times.

  “I was just telling Queenie about Moira.”

  “Stop, Blanche.” He kisses her forehead before jogging back to the sideline.

  “Fuck,” she blurts out. “Now, I’m horny. I mean look at that ass in those workout pants.”

  “Yeah,” I agree, studying his ass. Clancy Bogart is the king of the ugly duckling story, one nut and all.

  “And, my hell, does that guy know how to please.” Blanche pulls back down her shades and focuses on the action on the field. “I had no idea how many years it had been since I had really good sex, like toe curling sex.”

  She continues on about the sex for the rest of the game like we were having a girl’s night out, sipping wine and not in the middle of a crowd at a soccer game. Both sidelines of parents ride Doug like an orphan on all of his calls, which makes him focus on the field and not me.

  I throw the treats at the kids and usher Annie off the field as if a case of lightening diarrhea struck me out of nowhere.

  “Queenie, want to come over?” I hear Blanche holler when I’m halfway off the field.

  “No, it’s our picnic day,” I holler back not making eye contact with anyone.

  “What’s wrong, Q?” Annie looks up to me with a bright red Gatorade stain circling her lips.


  “Just don’t want to miss our date, missy,” I ruffle her hair and ease her worries.

  By the time we make it across Main Street and half way down the cemetery road, everything is right in the world. I let Annie lead the way to her father’s headstone. She skips and hums the whole way. Sorrow has never hit Annie during our weekly visits. And she’s always quick to thank me for letting her have some daddy time.

  I wasn’t around much when she was little, but do know from my brother’s texts and calls that they were as close two can get.

  “Q, it’s a gorgeous day.”

  “Yes, it is, Annie.” I take a seat next to her in front of the headstone adorned with the US flag and his ranks, but most of all his proudest achievement, “Father”.

  I spread out our lunch and listen to Annie rattle off to her dad about her new friend, Sadie, and the soccer team. She’s sprawled out on her belly, kicking her cleats up in the air, with her balled up fists under her chin.

  “Daddy, I have even made two goals. It’s ashually fun.”

  I’ve seen Annie’s competitive side come out to play the last few games and knew it was hidden deep down inside her somewhere. I place her plate in front of her.

  “You’re the jelly to my peanut butter, daddy.” She takes a large bite out of her peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “And you know what, daddy? Q is the bread that holds us together.”

  I don’t even try to conceal the tears as they roll down my cheeks. Annie may never know how much her compliment means. I’ve spent many restless nights tossing and turning, wondering if I’m doing this right or just fucking her up. My father’s evil words always seem to haunt me and diminish any of my self-confidence. However, with Annie’s reassurance it now makes them null and void.

  Chapter 7

  The Worst Call

  “That was fast, Queenie.” I’m greeted by Mr. Morningwood at the top of the stairs.

  “Not much hair to work with on Mr. Vernon, and his wife had strict instructions on how she wanted it styled.” We both share a laugh. “I’m pretty sure it’s laid in that same comb over his whole life. Well trained hair.”

  He pats me on the shoulder and offers up a warm smile. “You’re a good man, Queenie. Proud to have you as part of our family here.”

  “Thanks,” I nod. “Means a lot to me, Mr. Morningwood.”

  Every day that passes, I become more and more settled here in Beaver Falls. It’s almost, and I mean almost, a place I can envision myself calling home forever.

  Moira’s proudly showing Mrs. Morningwood the latest pet she stuffed. Although, the whole idea of getting your pet stuffed is bizarre, I must admit Moira is damn good at what she does.

  “Hey.” I turn to the group. “Where’s my Blanchey-Boo?”

  Luna walks out of her office with her gaze on a file folder, doesn’t look up before she answers. “Doctor’s. Yearly check-up thingy on her lady bits.”

  “Gotcha,” I nod.

  And I know she’s not getting her check-up and her appointment was just a week ago. I’m no Obstetrician, but this early women don’t go that often. As soon as I wave my farewell and step out into the sunlight my phone rings, it’s Clancy.

  “Queenie,” I answer in my sing-songy voice.

  “I need you at my house now.”

  “What?”

  “Hurry, please. I need help.”

  He ends the call before I can even ask a question. Shit, Clancy lives out on the edge of town. I send a quick text to Luna letting her know I’d be back in a few hours and to keep Annie after the play date along with Sadie. The whole drive I run different scenarios through my head. I even ring Blanche a few times and only get her voicemail.

  Is her hair caught in his fly or what? Jesus, would it have killed Clancy to offer up a few more details. When I pull into the driveway Clancy is pacing back and forth on his porch. I guess Blanche’s hair isn’t caught in his zipper.

  “What’s going on?” I hop from the truck and feel the anxiety attack me when I make eye contact with Clancy. He’s been crying.

  “Clancy,” I finally yell. “What in the hell is going on?”

  In a low whisper with a defeated undertone, he simply replies, “She lost the baby.”

  “Fuck.” I run my hands through my hair. “Where is she?”

  “In the downstairs bathroom. She won’t let me in.”

  “Call Brady. I’ll go talk to her.”

  “She doesn’t want anyone to know, Queenie.” Clancy collapses on a bench with his face buried in his palms.

  “He’s your best friend and you need him right now. Call or I will.”

  I open the front door and enter the silent home, but before I look for the bathroom I send Brady a quick text. I don’t care right now who wants what. I’m only concerned about who needs what.

  Soft sobs echoing from the end of the hall let me know where Blanche is. I knock on the door and wait.

  “Go away, Clancy.”

  “It’s me, Queenie.”

  Silence floats between us.

  “Let me in or I’ll bust down this fucker.”

  Laughter between sobs floats from the bathroom. “You couldn’t if you tried.”

  “Don’t test me, Blanche.” I slam on the door harder and then wring out my aching fist.

  The door clicks, but doesn’t open. By the time I swing it open Blanche is huddled on the granite tile in a corner. Her face buried.

  “Lock the door.”

  I do what she asks then sit across from her on the floor and let her cry. I take her hand and keep it clutched in mine.

  “It’s my fault, Queenie.”

  “What is, baby?”

  Blanche finally looks up to me through her tears and lines of black mascara running down her face.

  “I never wanted that baby.” She barely gets the words out between her sobs.

  Before she has the chance to retract back into her cocoon, I grab her wrist and pull her into my lap.

  “That has nothing to do with it.” She buries her head in my chest as I smooth out her hair. “You were going through the biggest change of your life, Blanche. It’s not that you didn’t want it, it was because your future was unknown.”

  She shakes her head from side to side. “I hate Luis and how he abandoned Sadie, and I didn’t want that for another child. It’s my fault.”

  “Blanche, stop.”

  “You should’ve seen Clancy’s face when I started bleeding everywhere.”

  “He’s out on the porch crying for you, Blanche.”

  “He was disappointed.”

  “No, he’s afraid and hurting for you.” I squeeze her tight in my arms. “Take your time processing this, but don’t let it ruin what you have going.”

  Her sobs continue to wrack her petite body. I’ve never seen Blanche Morningwood this broken down and hurt. She’s typically telling the world to fuck off and concealing her anger and hurt. I hear muted voices outside the door and reach up to unlock it.

  The door slowly opens with Brady and Clancy filling the frame. Blanche doesn’t look and continues to cry. Her tears are the kind that’ll never dry up

  “I’m always so selfish and never appreciate what I have.” Her sobs attack each of her words. “It’s my fault.”

  Before I have a chance to say a word, Brady’s drops to his knees next to us.

  “Bullshit, sister. Luna’s had miscarriages, it just happens.”

  She doesn’t look up, my shirt muffles her words. “Luis was right. I’m a worthless, spoiled asshole from Iowa.”

  “Enough,” Brady grabs her head forcing her to look up. “Fucking enough, Blanche. You’re home where you belong. That worthless fucker can’t control you. Blanche, you’re the most loving and kind person I know. And if we want to start a shitty parent contest then I guarantee I’d kick your ass.”

  Blanche wipes her nose with the back of her hand and then glances up to Clancy. The suffocating bathroom grows silent and tense when their eyes meet.

  “I�
��m so sorry, Clancy.” She stands to her feet, wobbly at first with her whole body trembling.

  “Baby, there’s nothing to be sorry about.”

  Blanche melts into Clancy’s open arms. He has her held tight to his chest in a matter of seconds.

  “I’m tired, Clancy.”

  She wraps her legs around his waist and lays her head on the top of his shoulder.

  “I’ll take you to bed.” He turns and begins slowly walking.

  “Please don’t leave me, Clancy.”

  “Never, baby, as long as you keep letting me in. I’ve always loved you, Blanche.”

  The door to the master bedrooms shuts.

  “Fuck.” Brady falls back on the wall leaving me speechless. “I’ve never been able to handle it when she’s hurting.”

  “At least she’s home.” I whisper looking down at my tear soaked shirt.

  “I’ve never had the desire to go to L.A., but I do now. I want to kill that fucker.”

  “Hate is the last thing that will help this situation, Brady.”

  “He gave up all rights to Sadie. Blanche doesn’t know I know. I took the call the other day from lawyer. The selfish motherfucker gave up Sadie.”

  “They’re both better off without that bastard.”

  “You’re a great guy, Queenie, thanks for being here for her.”

  “No thanks needed.”

  Brady and I sit in silence for a long time before he leaves. He’s agreed to keep Annie overnight, so I can stay here with Blanche and Clancy. He’s only going to tell Luna about the miscarriage since she’s the only other person who knew Blanche was expecting.

  I finally make it to Clancy’s overstuffed leather couch and plop down on it. Not even motivated, or have the heart, to turn on the television or surf social media. Blanche’s broken heart and soul makes me sick. I’m hurting right along with her. I know better than anyone else around her, what it’s like to be broken by the world. You feel so out of control and hopeless.

  Blanche may be the hometown snobby bitch, but she only got that persona by leaving Beaver Falls and trying to better herself. Yeah, her plans fell through, but she came back stronger and with the joy of her life, Sadie. I do something I rarely do. I’m not sure I even fully believe in the power of it.