Betty and Veronica
This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in this book.
Betty and Veronica
All Rights Reserved
Copyright © 2011 Elena Aitken
Smashwords Edition
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Ink Blot Communications
Dedicated To Best Friends Everywhere
Betty and Veronica
"Veronica's a fighter, right?"
Addison's voice broke through my sun-drenched drowsiness. I lay on my towel, too content to even lift my head to look at her. I could feel my skin sizzling. Droplets of sweat slid down my back, to the towel. It was perfect. I needed to decompress from the realities of life and my crappy, entry-level job at the newspaper. The white sandy beaches of Panama were the perfect place, even if the annual vacation did leave me with an overworked credit card.
I refused to think about the bills I'd have to pay when I got home and let the sound of the waves lull me into a hypnotic state.
"What do you think? Betty or Veronica?"
"What?" I squeezed my eyes tighter, trying to block out my friend's voice.
"Betty or Veronica? Who's your favorite?"
"Seriously? I'm trying to sleep, Addy." I'd had one too many mojitos at the hotel bar the night before. I was not in the mood to discuss cartoons.
"You're not sleeping, Rori. You're suntanning. There's a difference."
"There's not. It's hot. I'm hungover. I want a nap." I tried harder to bury my head into my arms. "And I'm on vacation. Leave me alone."
"Whatever," Addison said as if she hadn't heard me. She probably hadn't. "I like Betty, but she can be kind of whiny, don't you think? I mean, why would Archie choose her over independent, strong, Veronica?"
"Really? We're doing this right now?"
"Although," she continued, "Veronica can be a bitch, always stealing Archie away from Betty. You really shouldn't treat your best friend so badly."
"You mean the way you're treating me right now? I want to sleep."
"Rori, this is serious. Betty or Veronica?"
I gave up on napping, hauled myself up to my elbows and glared at Addison through my dark glasses. As usual, she looked stunning in her teal bikini. She reclined on her elbows with her long, oiled legs stretched out in front of her. Her dark hair was tied up in a loose bun, her head tilted towards the sun.
"Where's the comic book?" I asked.
"What comic book?"
"The one you're reading."
"Who said anything about a comic book? Really Rori, are you feeling okay?" She turned toward me then, lowered her sunglasses and winked. "It's just a question. Betty or Veronica, if you could only choose one, who would it be?"
She didn't see the death stare I gave her. I "Okay, I'll play your game." We both knew I would. When it came to Addison, I always gave in. Always had. Since we were kids. I flipped myself over, aware of my less than lean body stuffed into my black one piece. "Betty," I said.
"Really? She can be so pathetic."
"Yes, but she's also a true friend. She wouldn't throw Veronica under the bus or back stab her."
Addison shot me a look. "You don't have to be pathetic to be a true friend," she said.
"No, but we're talking about stereotypes here, right? Fictional characters. I'd choose Betty."
She turned back to the sun, angling her body a little bit. It was our third year coming to Panama. It had become an annual tradition since we graduated college. Everyone else went to Mexico or Costa Rica, but Panama was our little piece of untouched paradise. We could escape from our less than perfect jobs, relax under the palm trees and soak up the sun without being hit on by oversexed frat boys on spring break.
"But Veronica is strong willed, she has determination. I like that." Addison declared.
"True." I opened the cooler and took out a bottle of water. "Why are we talking about something so stupid?"
Addison ignored me. "They both have good qualities. Really, it wouldn't be the same if you didn't have both of them, would it?"
"What wouldn't be the same? Riverdale?"
"No, not Riverdale." She looked at me as if I was the one who'd gone off the deep end.
"I'm totally confused," I said.
"I've decided to name the girls."
"The girls?"
"My boobs. So, this one is Betty," she pointed to her left breast, "and this one can be Veronica." She cupped her right breast. "I like that she's strong, a fighter."
"Seriously?" I almost choked on my water. "You don't really seem like the tit-naming type. Besides, that's something we might have done when we were thirteen, not twenty-seven."
"I just thought if I was going to lose her, I should name her." Her hand still cupped Veronica as she spoke. She started methodically stroking her thumb over the teal fabric.
"Pardon me?" I sat up straighter.
She wouldn't look at me.
"Addy, what's going on?"
"Veronica here has a lump." She squeezed her right breast.
I swallowed hard. Addison's mom had died from breast cancer when we were sixteen. I remembered it clearly. It was an awful time. The only saving grace was that it happened quickly. "It could be nothing, Addy." Hot tears pooled in my eyes.
"I already saw Dr. Dixon. It's cancer, Rori." She turned to me then. When she lifted her over sized black sunglasses up on her head I could see the fear in her blue eyes. "Kind of neat that he was Mom's doctor too, right? He promised to do a better job with me."
"Addison. That's not funny." A tear slipped out and slid down my cheek.
"Well, I'm not going to cry about it. That won't help."
"You're not going to die." It was a lame thing to say, but I couldn't think of anything else. I stared at her dumbly for a moment before reaching out for her arm. It was hot and slick with tanning oil. I pulled her to me, crushing Betty and Veronica with my embrace.
She wasn't much of a hugger and to her credit, she let me squeeze her tight for a moment. She knew I needed it and even if she didn't want to admit it, she needed it too.
"Okay, that's enough." Addy pulled away from me. Straightening the girls in her bikini top she jumped to her feet. "No more tears, they won't fix anything. I told you, I'm not going to cry." She pulled the elastic out of her hair, and shook her long, dark tresses so they fell around her shoulders. She threw her sunglasses to the towel and said, "It's so hot. I'm going to cool off. You coming?"
She didn't wait for an answer, she never did. Addison knew I'd follow her. I always had. She ran to the shoreline, splashing into the water in three giant strides and dove under the surf. She swam hard with even strokes, there was no current to worry about and she was a strong swimmer.
I watched her from the towel, still absorbing what she had told me. Addy wouldn't die.
She couldn't.
###
"You have to do it, Rori."
"No, I don't." I refused to let her steamroll me.
We were sitting on my patio, me at the table and Addison in a padded lounger covered with blankets. We only had a about an hour before it got too cold for Addy to be outside. It was too hot during the day, and once the sunset, it cooled off quickly. Dr. Dixon said fresh air was good for her so I tried as much as possible to get her outside. Even for a few minutes.
"Please, Rori. I'm dying."
I almost threw the book I was holding at her. "That's not fair. Plus, you're not dying."
"Ok fine," she said. "But you have do it, for me. Please?"
"Addy, for God's sake, I don't run. You're the runner."
She laughed then for real. "Yeah right. Like I could run right now. Look at me."
I didn't need to look at her, I hated looking at her. Her thick gorgeous hair was gone. Instead she wore a stylish baseball hat, studded with rhinestones. The hat hid her gleaming white head but often she went without it.
Once her hair started falling out, Addy immediately shaved it all off. She couldn't stand the thought of watching it fall out strand by strand. Her once startling blue eyes, the one bright spot left on her face, still held their intense sparkle, but they were diminished by dark black smudges and the hollows where her cheeks should have been. Even I couldn't deny the striking physical change. And I'd tried.
"I'm too fat to run. I can't do it." I tried to bury my face into my paperback. I was supposed to be reading the latest selection from my book group. It didn't matter how hard I tried, I could not seem to get into these books with all the hype, the ones that were supposed to give your life a deeper meaning. They bored me and half the time I found myself turning pages without actually reading anything. But the books did give me something to do during all of Addison's treatments and while I sat by her when she napped. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't leave her alone too long. What if she didn't wake up?
"Put that shit book down. This is serious." Addison made a swatting gesture towards the paperback, but the effort would have been too great for her to reach it. I put it on my lap.
"I told you. I don't run." Does this look like a runner's body?" I waved my hands over my torso. "I'm too fat. You're the runner."
"That's crap. Pass me that water, please?"
When we had come home from Panama, Addy had moved in with me. It made sense. My place was bigger, and she would need someone to help with her intense treatment schedule. Dr. Dixon was indeed trying to 'do a better job' with her and he'd planned a vigorous regime of chemo and radiation. He would never say so, but I think having lost her mother, he would consider it a personal failure if he couldn't save Addison.
Addy was an only child, which meant that when we were kids, her house was always a quiet refugee from the chaos of my life with three brothers. But it also meant that when her mom died, Addy's house got even quieter. Her dad never really recovered after losing her mom and he threw himself into work instead of focusing on his daughter. In high school, she spent so much time at our house, my mom would automatically set another place at the dinner table for her.
I'm not sure she even told her dad about her cancer. She didn't want to talk about it, and all she said about it was that she didn't want him to worry about her and she wouldn't put him through it again. I didn't mind helping her. I wouldn't have had it any other way. Besides, I would gladly put my life on hold if it meant Addy would have one.
"Are you warm enough?" I asked her as I reached for her water glass. I pinched the straw between my fingers so it was easy for her to grasp.
"You're not fat," she said between sips. "You're beautiful. You have curves, and they're stunning. I envy your curves. Always have." She pushed the water away and sank back into the cushions.
"So says the size two supermodel. You don't get it. Addy...when I run, there's jiggling where there shouldn't be. And this thing called chafing. Not so good when you're my size."
"You need the right clothes." She tried to laugh but it sounded hollow and raspy. The effort made her cough. "Haven't I always said, it's about the gear? Besides, I'm not a size two." She lifted back the blanket on her lap, revealing her new, skinnier figure. Her legs, once muscular and strong weren't much more than skin and bones sticking out from her shorts. The t-shirt she wore, that had once been tight and fitted, hung loosely on her frame. It was noticeably flat on the right side.
"I'm sorry," I said. I wanted to look away, but her eyes held me. I knew how she felt about those who avoided her now. Our friends who suddenly were 'too busy' or 'working late' and couldn't come to visit. And those friends that did come but wouldn't look at her. Staring instead at the wall just past her head. I knew it hurt her. She never said so, she didn't have to.
Besides, I knew her body. I'd seen her. I'd helped her bathe. Helped her into her clothes. I'd helped her onto the toilet. I knew what the chemo had done to her.
"Don't be sorry, Rori," she said so quietly I had to lean in to hear her. "Just run. Please."
I didn't run. I never ran. It was an old joke, but the only way I was going to run was if someone was chasing me. Addy had tried for years to make me into an athlete like her. But I wasn't built that way. Whenever I let her talk me into going to a class with her or meeting her at the gym, I would ache for days. And running, no way.
"For me, Rori. Run for me," she said. "Run for my mom."
I got up and readjusted her blanket, tucking it tightly around her legs. If she got too cold it would take an effort to warm her up again. And I couldn't risk her getting sick. "It means that much to you?" I asked.
Her smile made her come alive. "You know it does. I've done the breast cancer run every year since my mom died."
"I know." I was there every year. Cheering her on at the finish line.
"You'll do it, won't you, Rori?"
I nodded. Of course I'd do it.
###
"I - call - bullshit." I gasped as I came to a stop in front of Addison's chair. I almost crashed into her, my feet could barely function properly.
"What are you talking about? What's bullshit?" Addy handed me a water bottle. "Here, drink something. You're pretty red."
I tried to gulp down some water, between efforts to suck air into my burning lungs. The result was a sputtering, hacking cough.
"Take slow, deep breaths."
Was she serious? I'd settle for any breaths at all. I collapsed to the grass in front of Addison and dumped the water on my face.
"Oh, now you're just being dramatic," she said.
When I recovered enough to see straight, I pulled myself up to a sitting position and pretended to stretch. My new white sneakers glared in the sunlight.
"What's bullshit?" Addy asked again.
I looked at her. "This runner's high I keep hearing about. It's some bullshit story, made up by the running shoe people."
She laughed and her eyes sparkled. They didn't do that much anymore. "It's not bullshit."
"It is." I grabbed another water bottle and gulped hard. "This is the stupidest sport ever."
"Rori, you're doing great. Don't get frustrated."
"Addy, this sucks. It sucks so bad, I can't even tell you how bad it sucks." As soon as the words came out of my mouth I wanted them back. I looked up at her again sitting in her lawn chair at the edge of the track. She came every day, wrapped in a blanket to fight the chill, and encouraged me as I huffed and puffed around in circles. I knew how much energy it took her. I knew how badly she wished she could be the one running. I also knew she wouldn't say anything.
"I'm sorry, Addy. I didn't mean it."
"Yes, you did," she said. "It's okay, it does suck when you're learning to run."
"That's not what I meant."
"I know what you meant." Her eyes were intense. The subject was closed.
I looked away, back to my new runners. Two days after I agreed to doing the run, I went out and bought my first pair of running shoes. At least, the first pair I'd ever actually run in. At Addison's urging I also shelled out for a slick looking shirt made from some space age fabric, and even slicker looking shorts. She insisted, as did the store employees who made a hefty commission from me, that running was easier and more fun when you looked good.
After training four days a week for three weeks, I could barely run two kilometers without passing out, and I wasn't yet convinced that looking good had anything to do with it. Although, I would admit that my shorts were starting to feel looser. It was the only reason I stuck with the crazy training regime Addy had drawn up for me. I looked up as a cough racked her ravaged body. Well, not the only reason.
"It's true, you know," she said after a moment.
"What?"
"The runner's high," Addy said. "It really does exist. You'll see."
I stood up and stretched out my back. "Well, even if I don't experience this elusive runner's high, I will definitely experience the high brought on by ibuprofen every night." I winked at her.
"Okay, enough rest. Get back out there."
"You can't be serious?"
"Dead serious." She said and I shot her a look. "Okay, I'm very serious."
"Slave driver." I tossed the empty water bottle to the ground and headed back onto the track. I started my slow, barely more than a shuffle, run.
"It gets easier," Addy tried to yell. "I promise."
###
Addy was right, Addy was always right. Running did get easier. I even started to enjoy it a little bit. But not because it felt good or it gave me any sense of accomplishment, but because it was something we could do together. Something that didn't involve doctor appointments, medicine or treatment schedules.
Four times a week, I'd come home from work, pick up Addison and we'd go to the track. It didn't matter how sick she looked or how weak she felt, she came with me every time. And despite what she was going through, Addy never complained. Not ever. Which made it kind of hard for me to whine about sucking wind, my sore big toe that constantly throbbed in my shoe, and my general unhappiness with the whole sport.
By the time the breast cancer run came near, I was ready. Sort of. I wasn't going to set any records but that was okay, because as Addison pointed out, it was my first 10km ever, so no matter what time I got, it would be a personal best.
"I'm going to puke," I said the night before the run.
"Uh huh." Addy didn't look up.
She sat at the kitchen table flipping through old magazines. She looked better than she had in months, her last chemo treatment was just over a month behind her and it was amazing how much healthier she looked once they stopped pumping poison through her veins. Her skin wasn't quite so sallow, the dark smudges under her eyes were almost gone and even her energy was coming back. I dared to hope the chemo had worked. She'd been for tests two days ago. They needed to come back clear.
"Addy, I'm serious. I'm so nervous."
I sat across from her, trying to take my mind off the long ten kilometers I would be running in less than twelve hours. My knees bounced against the table, my fingers tapped the surface. Addy finally looked up and smiled.
"You about done?"
I shoved back my chair and resumed pacing. "I should sleep," I said. "I know I should try and get some sleep. But how can I sleep when I'm going to die tomorrow?"
Addy laughed, "If anyone is going to die, it's me."
I froze and shot her a look. She just laughed harder.
"Wait here." She pushed back from the table and left the room only to reappear moments later holding a gift bag. "I got you something."
"Why?" I took the bag from her.
"Rori, I'm proud of you. This is huge, what you're doing."
I blinked hard.
"Don't cry." She warned. "Open it."
Removing the tissue paper, I pulled out a hot pink t-shirt; it was slippery beneath my fingers.
"I keep telling you, Rori, it's all about the gear and how you look." Addy smiled.
I held out the shirt, grasping it by both shoulders. Emblazoned across the chest was: Veronica's Run
I looked up and forced myself to look at Addy. At the way her t-shirt hugged the gentle swell of her left breast, and hung loose, lonely on the right. She didn't like to wear the special bra with the prosthesis in it. I tried to encourage it, but she said it felt strange so I didn't push. Everything we'd been through, the chemo, the long nights when I sat with her holding her hair while she threw up. And then, when her hair was gone, and I rubbed her back. The tears, the long talks about death, it was over. I knew it was. The tests would come back and everything would be fine.
"I don't know what to say." Tears leaked out the corners of my eyes.
Addison waved her hand, "Turn it around." She ordered.
I did as I was told and broke out in a grin. It read: Bosom Buddies.
"Isn't it great?" Addy said.
"It's perfect." I laughed through my tears.
###
The next morning the sun shone as I lined up with more than a thousand other runners at the start line. The horn blared and we were off. I wasn't in it for speed, I just needed to do it. For Addison, for her mother and for Veronica.
To my surprise I felt good. I passed the kilometer five sign. Half way there. I had a good pace going, and I wasn't struggling. Things were looking good. When I hit the dreaded kilometer eight, the distance I always struggled with, I was pleasantly shocked when my body didn't immediately shut down and demand to stop. But by the time I passed the sandwich board declaring kilometer number nine, I wasn't sure if I could continue to put one foot in front of the other. Not for one more second, let alone a whole kilometer.
"You can do it, Rori."
"Excuse me?" A fellow runner, dressed in spandex shorts and a pale blue t-shirt broke her stride slightly as she passed me.
"Oh...sorry...talking...to...my...self..." I managed to puff out.
The runner smiled knowingly, "You can do it, Rori." She said before resuming her pace.
Of course you can do it. I thought. This is way easier than what Addy went through. I focused on my breathing as I watched the other runner move further ahead of me. If she could do it, why couldn't I? It was just one foot in front of the other. Simple.
I can do this. I can do this.
I repeated my simple, silent mantra over and over until it became part of my rhythm, matching my stride. Before I realized it, the heavy feeling in my feet faded, my legs seemed lighter, the color of the sky bluer, the grass looked crisper, I felt like I was being pulled along by a string. The phantom runner's high? Could it be?
Soon I could hear the cheers of the waiting crowd. The finish line was in sight. I quickened my pace, and pulled strength from places I didn't know I had.
I can do this I can do this I can do this.
Miraculously I picked Addison out of the crowd. Dressed in her matching hot pink shirt, she was jumping up and down cheering me on.
I reached deeper, willing my legs to move faster.
Before I knew it, my feet were moving across the finish line, a volunteer was putting a medal around my neck and people were yelling and cheering. I couldn't focus on anything but somehow my legs kept moving as I looked around searching the crowd for Addison. And then she was there, her arms around me, squeezing me.
"I'm so proud of you! You did it. And, you did it with style. That was an awesome finish."
I couldn't speak, I could barely breathe, but I gratefully accepted a bottle of water.
I let Addy lead me away from the finish line to the shade of a poplar tree where I collapsed on the grass.
"How do you feel?" she asked.
"Shitty," I said. "And freaking amazing!"
She laughed. "You should feel freaking amazing, that was an awesome run. You did Veronica proud. And me."
We sat together on the grass until my breathing returned to normal and the color faded from my face.
"Thank you," Addy said.
"For running?" I said. "You'll never believe this, but I actually kind of like it."
"I don't mean for the run," she said. There was something in her tone. I turned to look at her. Tears shone in her eyes. "I mean for everything. You didn't have to do what you did, taking care of me like that."
"Yes I did."
"No, Rori. You didn't. Thank you."
I nodded.
"I want you to know that I'll never put you through that again. I remember what it's like. And I won't make you go through that again. I promise."
"I'd do it a thousand times," I said, and I meant it.
You could end the story here. A story of hope. I like it.
"That's the thing. You'll never have to. It isn't fair to you."
"I'll never have to because you're cancer free, you mean?" I punched her playfully on the arm. I didn't want to talk about it any more. "Its kind of a non-issue, don't you think? When you get your test results back, it's party time."
She nodded. "You're right," she said. "You know what? I think we should go to Panama early this year. I don't want to wait."
"Sure." The idea of sitting on a beach sounded fabulous. "As soon as we get your results, we'll start planning."
"Forget waiting,"' she said. "I feel great. I know what the results are going to say. Let's go now. Right away."
She was smiling. Radiant. "Why not," I heard myself say. "Let's go."
###
The sand squished beneath my toes and my feet slid out at awkward angles with every foot stroke. "This is way harder than running on pavement," I gasped.
"But way more beautiful." Addy increased her stride and I had to work twice as hard to keep up to her long legs. It was unreal how much energy she had. "Besides, you can't complain about running in paradise. It's not allowed."
"Not complaining, just saying." I pushed myself harder, and overtook her by a foot length.
Addison laughed. "Come on, let's race."
Without waiting for an answer, she poured it on and took off down the beach. I dug deep and charged after her. I knew I could beat her. Even with her gazelle like legs, she wasn't strong enough to run very long, very fast. I let her go ahead and soon we were back at our blankets.
I collapsed next to her on the hot sand.
"You let me win."
"Did not," I said, but when I looked at her, I knew she knew. I shrugged. "You wouldn't have it any other way."
She tossed me a bottle of water from the cooler.
We'd been in Panama six days already. Each day had been great. It was like old times again. We didn't do anything, declining all the packaged tours that the hotel offered, opting instead to lounge on the beach. I was happy enough to spend my days hanging out. Lord knows we needed it after the last ten months.
I looked over at Addison. She'd pulled her ball cap off to expose the black stubble sprouting on her head. Soon it would be long enough to call a pixie cut, but she looked great despite the awkward hair. She was still skinny, way too skinny. Her bathing suit hung on her hip bones, and I could see all her ribs. But she was happy. And her smile made up for the ravages of her body. My eyes traveled to the empty spot in her bikini top where Veronica should have been.
"Does it feel weird?" I asked suddenly.
She traced my gaze and saw where I was looking. "Not anymore," she said. "Not usually. Although, sometimes I think it's still there, and then I look down."
"Are you going to...you know, get a new one?"
She looked at me with a funny look and then burst into laughter.
"A reconstruction, you mean?" she said when she was pulled herself together.
We'd never talked about it. In all the months during her treatment, it was just day to day survival. We never looked past the next treatment. But now, we could.
"Yes," I said. "That's exactly what I mean."
"I don't know," she said and put her hand flat against her chest. "I don't think you can ever replace Veronica. I mean, she was a one and only." She looked at me over the top of her sunglasses. "Don't you think?"
I met her gaze. "There will never be another Veronica," I said.
She didn't look away like I thought she would and I was the one to break the stare. I dug my toes in the sand at the end of my towel and laid back to soak up the sun.
"I guess we're more like Betty and Veronica than I thought," Addy said.
"Except there's one big difference."
"What's that?"
"I still have my Veronica."
She smiled, but it wasn't her usual full-face grin. "Betty always seems to do okay without Veronica," she said. "But it's never the other way around."
"Are we talking about your boobs or the comic?"
"Neither."
Addy looked at me with such intensity it made my stomach flip. After a few moments, I said, "Is there something you want to talk about?"
She shook her head and in an instant her face cleared. "Nope," she said. "Hey, I'm going for a swim. You coming?"
She jumped up without waiting for an answer and flung her sunglasses on the towel.
"No, I need a nap."
"Suit yourself."
I watched as she ran towards the water. Right before she jumped into the waves, she turned and yelled, I love you, Betty." She blew me a kiss, turned and dove into the surf.
###
Addison's funeral was on a Thursday. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and it was hot for May. It was the kind of day she liked to call 'summer psych' because it was just as likely to snow the next day.
The church was packed and the service was beautiful. I sat next to Addy's dad and held his hand although I barely knew him. It was odd, I'd cared for his daughter in her toughest time but the man who sat next to me was a stranger. I listened while the minister spoke about how God must have a plan for a young woman who was strong enough to fight cancer only to take her away from us just as her life was beginning again. I nodded at the appropriate times and when Addy's dad started to cry, soft silent tears, I squeezed his hand a little tighter and handed him a tissue.
I didn't cry. I couldn't. When he spoke of heavenly love and how we should be happy for Addy because she was with her mother, I smiled.
After the service I stood at the back of the church and shook hands with her family, friends, co-workers and people I didn't know. They all knew me. I was Rori. "Addison told me so much about you," they said.
After their introductions, they all said the same things.
"Addison was such a strong swimmer, I don't understand."
"Was there a current? A rip tide?"
"Thank goodness you didn't swim with her that day, Rori."
"How could this happen?"
Indeed, how could this happen?
I knew.
###
I had woken from my nap to the sound of a woman screaming for help. She was standing at the water's edge, yelling and pointing. In slow motion, I looked at the empty blanket beside me. I stood and went to the shoreline.
There were sirens. Lifeguards. Police and then, the ambulance. No lights, no sirens, taking Addison away from the beach. Quiet.
Alone in my hotel room I sat on the edge of the bed, numb. It didn't make sense. Nothing made sense. I had to pack her clothes. I moved in a daze as I collected everything from her side of the closet before going to the dresser. When I opened the drawer, I froze.
On top of her t-shirts was an Archie comic book. I picked it up and took it to the bed where I opened it and took out a folded piece of paper.
Dear Betty,
I'm sorry.
Love always, Veronica
A sob escaped me from somewhere deep. I opened the paper.
Test results.
The cancer had spread. Stage four. It was in her lymph nodes and her bones.
I waited until the last mourner was gone, I went to the front of the church to the open casket I'd avoided earlier.
She was beautiful. Too young and too beautiful. I laid the Archie comic on her chest.
"I love you too, Veronica."
Available Now
Please enjoy this excerpt from my full length novel - Nothing Stays In Vegas Available NOW
Chapter One
April 2004
The music was too loud. Maybe it was me. Was twenty-seven too old to sip an overpriced cocktail, wearing a too-short skirt and a too-tight top? Judging by what some of the other ladies were wearing, no.
I tugged at my skirt in a vain attempt to pull it closer to my knees. Preferably over them. Nicole was late, as usual; it would take at least twenty minutes to go back to the room and change. There was no time. One thing was for sure, I'd never again buy anything an eighteen-year-old sales girl declared, "Totally perfect for Vegas."
The fluorescent blue liquid swirled around my glass as I fiddled with my straw. A "Knock Out," the bartender had called it. It was going to knock me out. Every time I took a sip, the sweetness sent bites of pain through my teeth. Yet I couldn't seem to stop drinking it.
"Excuse me," a voice from behind said.
I swiveled in my seat to see a very blond, very clean cut, very preppy guy. Good looking if you liked the college boy look.
I didn't.
He was standing over me, not even trying to conceal the fact that he was staring at my cleavage, which there was way too much of.
"Yes?"
"Can I get you another?" College Boy gestured to my drink which I was surprised to see almost empty.
That would explain the dizzy feeling every time I moved my head. Knock Out, indeed.
"I'm married," I said and turned back to face the bar. Where was Nicole?
"I'm Clark," College Boy said as he took the seat next to me, "and nobody in Vegas is married."
I twisted to look at him again. His smile dazzled. Clearly the result of thousands of dollars of orthodontic work. "Seriously," I tried again. "I'm not interested."
He leaned in and the smell of stale beer assaulted me. Over his shoulder I could see the table of his frat buddies, poking each other in the ribs and pointing in our direction.
Perfect. I was a bet.
"Listen, Kid." I couldn't have been much older then him, but maybe an insult would help. "I'm not interested in being part of your game tonight."
"Come on, Baby." His breath was hot and moist in my ear. I leaned back as far as I could without falling out of my seat but his arm snaked around me and yanked me toward him. "I just wanna have a little fun."
"Maybe I can suggest a playground nearby."
"Ouch," College Boy said and pulled back in mock injury. "That hurt."
"You think that hurt?"
"Come on," he leaned in again. "Don't be a bitch."
Really?
Changing my approach, I slid my hand up the side of his face, being sure to give his cheek a little caress as I went.
"Yeah," he murmured and closed his eyes. "That's what I'm talking about."
Without wasting anymore time I grabbed his soft, fleshy earlobe and twisted, hard.
"Ow!" His eyes snapped open and he jumped back but I still had a grip on his lobe. "Shit! Let go."
"Have I made my point?"
When he didn't answer immediately, I applied a little more pressure.
"Shit! Yes, you've made your point."
I let him go and his hand flew to his ear. He shot me a look which made it clear that whatever he was feeling towards me, it was no longer romantic. I gave him an innocent smile and a little wave as he retreated to his buddies who were howling with laughter.
Yes, I was definitely too old for this.
I turned around intending to return to my drink but my eyes landed on a man standing at the other end of the bar. He was tall, but it was his black hair and matching dark eyes that caught my attention. From the grin on his face I could tell he'd witnessed what happened. I offered a little shrug but didn't look away.
He was handsome. No, more than handsome. He was gorgeous in a way that only guys who don't know how gorgeous they really are can pull off. And he was coming over.
"I'm not trying to interrupt you," he said. I looked him in the eyes. No, not black but perhaps the richest shade of brown I'd ever seen. Gold flecks caught the light making his eyes shine like onyx. I couldn't look away. "I saw what happened to the last guy," he continued.
"I didn't want to have to do that."
"No," he said with a grin. "It was great. I was going to offer my assistance, but it's clear you didn't need my help. I'm Leo." He extended his hand, which I took.
"I'm Lexi."
His skin was warm but a shiver went through me when he squeezed my hand before releasing it.
Leo turned and we both watched as College Boy threw money on the table and started toward us on his way to the door. When he got close enough he glared and said. "Good luck, man. She's married. And mean." He pushed past us and out of the lounge, his buddies tailing him.
Leo shook his head and turned back to me. "I only have a few minutes. Do you mind if I sit here?" He pointed to the stool at the bar next to me. "Or would you rather be alone?" He held up his hands in mock defense.
I laughed. "Go right ahead. I'm just waiting for someone."
"Since you're waiting anyway, can I get you a drink? I promise I won't try any bad pick up lines."
My defenses fell a little and I said, "Sure, since you promised not to try anything."
"Never," he said and smiled. His dark eyes lightened when he smiled which made them look even richer. I tried not to stare. "What are you having?"
I looked at the blue liquid at the bottom of my glass and shoved it away. "Anything but that."
Leo called the bartender over. "Mike, can I get a coke and a vodka tonic for the lady."
"Make that a vodka and soda," I interrupted.
Leo turned to me and gave me a sly smile. I shrugged. He turned back to the bartender and said, "Make that a vodka and soda. Thanks, Mike."
I watched while he made small talk with the bartender, who seemed to know him. There was something about his confidence that hypnotized me. But it might have been the effects of the Knock Out.
"So," he said turning back to me, sliding my drink over. "Is what that guy said true?"
"That I'm mean?" I took a long sip of my vodka, enjoying the sharp contrast of the soda from the tooth rotting sweetness of my first drink. I rolled the liquid around in my mouth before swallowing and added, "Absolutely."
"Well, I'll withhold judgment on that one," he said. "But what I really wanted to know is, are you married? Is that who you're waiting for?"
Was he flirting with me? "Actually, no. I'm meeting my best friend. It's her birthday. Well, not tonight, but this weekend. She's always wanted to come to Vegas, so I caved."
I could've smacked myself. Instead I grabbed my drink to prevent anymore random ramblings. If he was flirting with me, he wouldn't be for long. But what was wrong with a little flirting? It might be fun if I had any idea at all how to do it.
"And the husband?"
"I'm here with Nicole," I said hoping that I could avoid that particular line of questioning. Thankfully, he didn't push it.
"So, what are you going to do to celebrate Nicole's birthday?" he asked.
I smiled, relieved to talk about something else. "Her actual birthday is tomorrow and I told her she could choose what she wanted to do. So, I guess we'll go out dancing somewhere." I winced at the thought of braving a Las Vegas night club. "But tonight we're keeping it pretty tame. We're going to see a Cirque show. I can't remember which one. They're all the same, aren't they?"
He laughed, smooth and natural. The image of warm caramel on an ice cream sundae popped into my head.
"No, they're not all the same," he said. "Similar, I'll give you. But each one has a different focus."
"You've seen them all?"
"I have. Some more than once."
"You must spend a lot of time in Vegas."
"You could say that," he said, taking long sip of coke. "I live here."
Before I could ask him about that, Nicole's voice, preceding her by seconds, cut in. "Well, hello," she said as she sashayed over with a little more enthusiasm than normal. She looked much taller than her 5'2" in spiky heels. I wasn't sure how she could breathe let alone walk in her emerald green dress that hugged her like a second skin. She looked good; she'd been working out twice a day for months and practically starving herself in preparation for this trip. I hated to admit that it paid off. I tried not to encourage that behavior in her, but she did look amazing.
"Who's your friend, Lex?" Nicole flipped her red hair over one shoulder and held out her hand in invitation.
Leo stood and took her hand. "I'm Leo. You must be Nicole."
"The one and only." Nicole took the stool he offered and slid in next to me.
"I was just keeping Lexi company until you arrived. But I should let the two of you get on with your evening." He spoke to Nicole, but his eyes didn't leave mine.
"You don't have to leave," I said.
"Unfortunately, I do. But maybe I'll run into you again," he said with a smile that made my stomach flip.
I struggled to keep my composure. "Maybe."
"Nicole," he said turning to her. "What are you drinking tonight?"
Her face flickered and the flash of a frown transformed into a smile so fast that if I hadn't known better, I'd doubt it had even been there. She ran a hand through her hair and said, "I'm kinda in the mood for something sweet. You know what I mean?" she purred. She couldn't help it. Whenever there was a man around, Nicole transformed. She would bat her eyelashes, throw on her sexiest smile and send out vibes of pure lust. She'd been that way ever since we were teenagers and she'd figured out that boys would do pretty much anything for her with a little flirting.
I felt a small burn of jealousy, which was ridiculous, when Leo returned her smile and ordered her a Knock Out.
"So, Lexi said you're going to a club tomorrow night for some dancing," Leo said.
"Well, when in Vegas..." she said and leaned forward exposing a little more cleavage.
I rolled my eyes and looked out onto the casino floor where the lights from the slots flashed and waitresses traipsed back and forth on their stilettos carrying drinks to gamblers who were pumping money into machines at a surprising rate. Over at the blackjack tables, there was a crowd of people forming around a man in a Hawaiian print shirt. By the excitement surrounding him, he must have had a run of luck.
"Well, what do you think, Lexi?"
I shook my head and turned back to the conversation. "About what?"
"Leo has offered us VIP passes to Studio 54 for tomorrow. He tells me it's the place to be on a Saturday night."
"It's your birthday. If that's what you want to do, it sounds good to me." I did my best to sound excited. Night clubs were akin to torture. "Thanks, Leo."
"It's my pleasure." He held my gaze again.
I cleared my throat and forced myself to look away. I swiped a piece of hair behind my ear before asking, "So, how did you happen to have these tickets?"
"I have my connections." He grinned and because he looked so cute, I found myself grinning back. "Seriously," he added. "I work at the hotel. Speaking of which, I should get back." He pushed himself away from the bar.
"It was very nice meeting you, Leo," Nicole said.
"Likewise, ladies. Have a great night." He started to move to the door.
"Wait," I called and the second he turned around my face burned with embarrassment. That sounded ridiculous. "How will we get the passes?" I asked, trying to sound natural.
"Don't worry, Lexi," he said and I could tell he was trying not to laugh. My face got even hotter if that was possible. "I'll make sure you get them." And then he turned and disappeared onto the casino floor.
I watched him go, wishing with a great deal of absurdity, that he would turn around and come back.
"That's it. No more alcohol for me," I mumbled. I hadn't reacted to a man like that since, well, since ever.
Nicole didn't hear me. "He's yummy," she said licking her lips. "Now come on, we're going to be late for the show. And what are you wearing?"
I looked down and said, "What's wrong with this? The sales girl said this was totally Vegas appropriate."
"Seriously, Lexi? For such a hottie, you choose the strangest clothes." Nicole stood and pulled me from the stool. "Don't worry, we'll go shopping tomorrow and get you sexed up."
I turned to grab my purse and caught sight of my left hand. It still made my breath catch when I saw my naked finger where a ring had been for the last three years.
"Lex, come on. What are you looking at?"
I blinked hard. "Nothing," I said and grabbed my purse. "Let's go."
Acknowledgements
As always, a huge thanks must go out to Leanne Shirtliffe and Trish Loye for being early readers, and then, late readers of this story. It's been through quite a few changes and both these great ladies have been instrumental in fine tuning it.
A great big shout out to Jacqui Jax for letting me use her photo as my cover art. This photo was taken on a beach in Panama. Perfect! Check out her beautiful photography at http://jacquijax-stock.deviantart.com/
And last but certainly not least. A huge thank you to all my best friends, past, present and future who push me to be the best I can be and accept me for the person I already am. You know who you are. I love you!