I let everything she was saying sink in, processing the drastic differences in our lives, before asking,” Do you ever go back home to see your family?”
“Yeah, at least one a year, for Momma’s birthday. I’m actually taking a bus there this weekend. Her birthday is on Sunday.”
“And you’ve never wanted to move back? You’re happy here?” I asked softly, hoping I didn’t offend her.
“My momma asks me every time I go home if I’ll stay, but it just doesn’t feel like home anymore, ya know? I don’t know if I’m happy, but I feel useful. I know that Big Mike and the girls need me, and that’s a good feeling.”
I followed her into the hotel and to the elevator.
“Do you have anyone special in your life?” I asked, wondering if that’s what kept her here. I was having a hard time understanding why she would stay and work where she does.
“Not a steady guy or anything,” she responded with a shrug. “I’ve steered clear of any real relationships since Bo. He pretty much broke my heart and left me here to fend for myself.”
Ginger looked utterly bereft for a moment, and I was about to move in and pull her in for a hug, then her face cleared and she shook her head.
“I don’t want to go there right now, you’ve had enough drama tonight. Let’s just talk of happy things, throw back some delicious strawberry lime margaritas, and let our sexiness drive everyone crazy.” The light wasn’t fully back in her eyes, but she was looking at me like she really hoped I’d let the topic go, so I did.
“Sounds like a plan,” I replied with a smile, putting my arm around her shoulders as we exited the elevator. “A margarita would be perfect.” With two shots of tequila.
After two margaritas, the lights seemed brighter and the music louder. Ginger and I were sitting at the bar, laughing as she told me about the night she’d caught Big Mike getting a blow job in the back room by one of the waitresses who wanted to move from the floor to the stage.
“I’m so sorry,” I said when I was able to catch my breath. “I wish you could wipe that from your memory.”
Ginger grimaced. “Unfortunately, nothing is getting that vision out. Not even bleach. Believe me, I tried.”
We started giggling again and Ginger put her hand over mine on the bar.
“This is the most fun I’ve had in ages,” she said, her smile a little wobbly. Or maybe that was my vision. “I don’t want to sound like a horrible person, but I’m glad your purse got snatched.”
“Me too,” I replied, surprised to realize that it was true. I hadn’t felt this alive in months.
I motioned for the bartender to serve us another round, when a light bulb went off in my head.
“Oh!” I yelled, startled both myself and Ginger.
“What?”
“I could totally drive you to Dallas,” I screeched, bouncing as much as was possible on a barstool. “We could have a road trip, and I could drop you off at your mom’s.”
Ginger squealed, “Really? That would be so much fun, and a lot better than the stinky old bus. Are you sure? Isn’t that pretty far out of your way?”
“Nah,” I fibbed. “I’ll just go down to Dallas, and then back up to Louisiana. It’ll be worth it, not to have to drive part of the way alone.”
We both took big drinks out of our fresh margaritas, and I felt the room begin to tilt. I put my hand on the bar to steady myself before turning my attention back to Ginger.
“What do you say?” I asked when she came into focus.
“Yes,” she answered happily. “I’m in.”
“To road trips,” I said, raising my glass in a toast.
“To Belle and Ginger’s Journey of Fun,” Ginger said excitedly.
“Belle and Ginger’s Voyage of Laughter,” I replied.
“Belle and Ginger’s Expedition of…” Ginger looked confused for a moment, then giggled. “I can’t think of anything else.”
As I laughed along with my newfound friend, I had high hopes that my solitary trip would now include a little bit of excitement.
Chapter 5
Every morning I woke up and told myself that I wouldn’t drink that day. Having a headache, and occasionally nausea, just wasn’t worth it. And if I was hungover enough to actually throw up, then I’d swear that I was done. Yet somehow, by the time the afternoon rolled around, I’d start telling myself why it was okay for me to drink again, and then the cravings would kick in. Almost like niggling feelings that made me yearn for that first drink.
This morning was no different.
I moaned as bright sunlight hit the back of my eyelids, and I cursed myself for not having the foresight to close the thick curtains before stumbling into my bed and passing out last night.
The sound of delicate snoring had me opening one eye carefully, and I searched my memory for the events of last night when I saw the petite redhead sprawled out in the king-sized bed next to me.
Oh, right … Ginger.
I groaned as I pulled the covers back and slid out. I shuffled to the bathroom, wincing with each jarring movement, and closed the door as quietly behind me as I could. I leaned against it for a minute, allowing my eyes to adjust to the dark room, which was only illuminated by a small light in the corner.
I grabbed my travel bag and pulled out the aspirin, desperate to start working toward relief. I found it and popped the top, then turned on the faucet and cupped my hand to fill it with water.
When the pills were swallowed, and my bladder was relieved, I braved entering the bright bedroom once more.
“Good morning,” Ginger sang out as she sat up and stretched prettily.
Jesus, did she have to be so chipper, and so loud?
“Morning,” I grumbled back.
“I overslept,” she replied happily, not panicked like I would have been if I’d overslept. “So, I’m gonna run, but I’ll meet you back here tonight.”
“Tonight?” I asked as I wrestled with the heavy curtain.
“Yeah, I’ll pack my bag and stay with you tonight, so we can leave early in the morning,” Ginger informed me as she threw on last night’s clothes. “We talked about it last night, remember?”
“Vaguely,” I muttered. Why the hell won’t these curtains close?
“Okay, well, after I’m done at the club I’ll meet you here. We exchanged numbers last night, so if you need me, just find my name in your phone.” She walked over and gave me a quick hug and said, “I had so much fun!” Then she reached behind the curtain and pulled a long rope, pulling the curtains closed and darkening the room.
I breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“Get some rest,” she replied, her laugh tinkling behind her as she left.
I crawled back into the big bed and snuggled into the pillow.
I was out in seconds.
When I awoke a few hours later, the pills had done their magic and the headache was gone.
I showered and got dressed for the day, then left the safety of my room to go out in search of breakfast. I decided to get out of my casino and go for a walk. The fresh air would do me good, and I could always find another casino to stop in for breakfast.
That’s the thing about Vegas, there’s no shortage of restaurants, casinos, or bars.
I got my car and drove down to the strip, before parking it so I could walk around. It seemed safer than walking around in the neighborhood where my purse had been stolen again, and it was too far to walk from the Stratosphere. Vegas can be deceiving. While it looks like everything is really close together, the blocks are actually really long, so it takes much longer to get from casino to casino than you would think.
Once I was parked in a garage, I set out on foot, stopping to enjoy the fountains along the way. Once I was good and famished, I walked into The Mirage and found the 24-hour café.
I ordered some eggs, bacon, and hash browns, figuring the grease would hit the spot. I also ordered a vodka cranberry, since I was in Vegas and could technically say I wa
s on vacation. Anyways, cranberry juice is a breakfast drink, right?
That first sip of crisp, tart flavor hit my tongue, and I almost felt a calm overcome me as the liquid slid down my tongue. I relaxed back into my chair and looked around, settling in to people watch as I enjoyed my breakfast.
This trip to Vegas was so much different than the ones I took with Ricky. We’d always stay out late, sleep in, then spend the days making love.
I felt a pinch around my heart at the memories, and knocked back my second vodka cranberry, eager to pay my check and leave the memories behind.
After I ate I walked around the casino. When I saw signs for Siegfried and Roy’s Secret Garden and Dolphin Habitat, I decided that would be something to check out, so I followed them to the entrance. Once I had my day pass in hand, I entered with a smile, excited to have a day where I could do whatever I wanted.
The white tigers were majestic, and the dolphins fun to watch. I sat down on a bench and watched them swim for a while. Enjoying the peace and serenity of their movements and they glided through the water, occasionally jumping up and around each other, as if in a dance.
Once I’d had my fill of the Secret Garden, I wandered out to the front of the casino, just in time to see the volcano erupt. I watched the spectacle with a smile, then looked down at my phone.
Perfect. I had plenty of time to wander around and play tourist, before I had to be back. It took me a second to understand that I was actually enjoying myself. I hadn’t had a good day in over a year, and I certainly hadn’t taken any sort of vacation since Ricky’s death.
I guess this was part of moving on and starting to have a life again. I started down the sidewalk toward the next casino, eager to see what I’d discover behind the ornate walls, and grab a quick drink before starting my next adventure.
Chapter 6
I woke up to something shaking me and blinked rapidly, trying to adjust my eyes to the still dark room.
“It’s a little after five,” Ginger explained as she shook me. “You wanted me to wake you so we could get on the road.”
I groaned in response, the movement of my body causing the bottle and a half of wine I’d had last night to slosh around my stomach.
“Stop shaking me,” I managed to get out without spewing all over Ginger.
“Oh,” she said with a giggle. “Sorry.”
I’d given her an extra key card yesterday, and she must have come in from the club after I’d already gone to sleep. She still managed to look fresh as a daisy in Pink sweat pants and an oversized tee.
I stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom, turning on the shower to heat as I relieved myself in the bathroom. Once I was done, I washed my hands and prepared my toothbrush. Then I got a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
Hair a tangled mess, and dark smudges under my eyes from a combination of eyeliner and mascara, I looked a fright.
I gave myself a scowl as I brushed my teeth, my eyes never breaking contact with themselves in the mirror.
I stripped as I walked, kicking my panties across the floor before entering the shower and standing under the steaming stream of water.
I allowed myself a few minutes to shake the early-morning fog out of my head, before quickly showering and joining Ginger in the room to pack my things. She handed me a cup of hot coffee as I shoved my things in my bag, and I smiled at her gratefully.
“Thanks, Ginger.”
“Sure thing, honey,” she replied with a sunny grin. “I’ll do a last check around and make sure you didn’t forget anything.”
I nodded as I took my first sip of coffee.
“Charger,” she said, holding up my phone charger.
“Thanks,” I said again as I took it from her and stuffed it in my purse. I crumbled up the empty coffee cup and tossed it in the trash, then walked out of the room without looking back.
We stopped at a gas station to fill up the car and grab some coffee, water, and snacks to go.
As we were pulling onto the highway I said, “I looked it up yesterday, and we can make it just passed Albuquerque before we need to stop tonight, then drive the rest of the way to Dallas tomorrow. We’ll get in late, and they’ll be long days on the road, but I think we’ll be fine.”
“Sounds good,” Ginger replied as she reclined back in the seat, her feet up on the dash. “Just let me know when you need a break from driving, and I’ll take the wheel.” She sat there twirling a long red curl around her finger as she looked out the window. The air felt heavy, like she wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure what.
After a few minutes I felt her shift toward me.
“Belle?” she prompted softly.
“Yeah?”
“What happened?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, confused by her question.
“Well, you’re on this cross-country trip by yourself, and, sugar, I have to say, I think you’re a blast, but … There’s a sadness in you.”
I gulped at the lump that formed in my throat at her words, and I wondered if my despair was obvious to everyone, or to Ginger because we’d spent so much time together over the last few days.
“A little over a year ago, my husband, Ricky, died in a motorcycle accident,” I admitted, my voice low and rough from keeping back tears.
“Oh, Belle, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No, Ginger, of course you should … It’s fine.” I turned to smile at her briefly, hoping to convince her of my sincerity.
I told her about Ricky. About him being in the military, and how we met.
“I was working in a creole restaurant at the time, and my roommate and I loved to go out dancing whenever we had a night off. We were in this loud club, packed with people, when I felt hands on my waist.” My lips turned up at the memory, and I swear I could feel Ricky’s hands, just like I had that night. “He said he’d been watching me move and it had taken him all night to work up the courage to come up to me. We danced until the bar closed, and then he walked me home.” I caught Ginger’s eye and added, “He called me the next morning, not three hours after he dropped me off. And that was it. We were inseparable.”
“He sounds great,” Ginger said, her tone gentle.
“He really was,” I replied, then drifted off, caught up in my memories.
When we stopped for lunch, and to switch places, I told Ginger I needed to go to the restroom and would meet her outside. I don’t know if it was talking about Ricky, or being in the car for so long, but I really wanted a drink. It felt like there was a clawing need in my belly, and I needed to make it go away, so I hid in the stall and opened my purse.
I had an assortment of those mini alcohol bottles stuffed in the middle zipper pocket. I pulled out three assorted vodka bottles and opened them, quickly knocking back one after the other. I threw the bottles in the trash, then grabbed a stick of gum and put it in my mouth.
I caught my reflection in the mirror and shook off the momentary feeling of disgust before leaving the dirty bathroom to go join my friend.
“Ready, sugar?” Ginger asked when I plopped into the passenger seat.
I looked around, taking note of my purse, the bags containing our lunch, and the steaming cup of coffee sitting in the cup holder and said, “Yup, let’s roll.”
I settled back into the seat as Ginger pulled out of the parking lot, and picked up the bag to get out the food. I was suddenly starving.
“You want yours now?” I asked Ginger, pulling out a hamburger and waving it around.
“Sure.”
I peeled back the wrapper, keeping it tight so she could hold the burger in her hand while she was eating, without making a mess.
“Thanks.”
I grunted my response as I put a greasy, salty fry in my mouth and closed my eyes.
Damn that tasted good.
After I finished my food, I reclined the seat and shut my eyes, eventually falling asleep to the sound of the tires rolling over the asphalt, and Ginger singing softly al
ong with the radio.
When I woke up and looked at the clock, I realized I’d been asleep for almost three hours.
“Man,” I muttered as I wiped my eyes with the heels of my palms. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to sleep that long.”
“You must have needed it,” Ginger answered with a grin.
She looked comfortable as she drove, on arm on the rest, with the other holding on to the top of the wheel.
“Yeah, I guess I did,” I admitted, then asked. “Are you okay? Do you need a break?”
“No, girl, I’m good for now. I figure we got another hour in us before we need to stop, unless you need to stretch.”
“I’m okay,” I replied, looking out the window to check out our surroundings. When I noticed it was actually a CD that Ginger was singing along to, I asked, “Barbra Streisand? “
“You’re not a fan?” she asked, her voice full of surprise.
“No, I am,” I assured her. “You just seem kind of young to be listening to her.”
“I’m almost twenty-six. My momma is a big fan though. I grew up listening to her, and I guess it stuck. Plus, listening to her always makes me feel closer to Momma.”
“That’s cool,” I responded as I stretched as much as I could in the confines of the car. “Do you like her movies and stuff too?”
“Oh yeah, I’ve seen everything she’s ever been in. The Way We Were is my favorite.”
“Mine too,” I agreed with a grin, then I sighed. “It’s so sad though … I always wish for a different ending.”
“Yeah, but damn, was Robert Redford hot!” Ginger said with a giggle, and I had to agree.
I turned up the volume, then leaned back and let Barbra’s beautiful voice fill the car.
Chapter 7
We ended up switching again when we stopped for dinner, so I was the one who drove us through Albuquerque. Once we were on the other side, Ginger punched in hotels on the GPS and started looking for a place to stop.