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Feel like hitting Tiffany?
Teeny laughed. I thought youd never ask.
Id like to keep going if you dont mind.
You wa
Be
Didnt mean to pry, LaShelle said, pursing her lips. Its just that were a long way from Rhode Island.
We are, Be
So, you got family in California?
Just someone I know. Its business, really.
LaShelle wiggled her head around on her neck, disdain in her eyes.
Something aint right about you, Be
He let go with a little laugh of surprise, but in his gut he felt apprehension. We all have our imperfections, he said.
LaShelle nodded. Uh-huh, well, lets start with your clothes.
Be
She rolled her eyes. Number one, they aint you. You look like youre dressed up for Halloween or some shit. You dont belong in those clothes.
Nothing about the picture fits together.
Oh, really. He was becoming quite amused by the exchange.
Come on now, Be
LaShelle looked him up and down. Youre in good shape for an old man, and its not the rough hands and hard work kinda shape, either. I bet you work out with a personal trainer.
Interesting theory, he said.
And /that/ kind of man dont appear in public in a monster truck T-shirt, drivin a trifling Buick with a Mexican flag hangin off the rearview.
Be
Ha! LaShelle crossed her arms over her chest. That wasnt no compliment.
What Im saying is, Im on to you, Be
Im just trying to get where I need to go.
Uh-huh. LaShelle sighed. Anyway, I dont want to get all up in your business. All I know is you wouldnt hurt a fly, Be
Be
LaShelle laughed.
They sat in silence for about five miles, when out of the quiet came the voice of an angel.?Hes a man on a mission/Sent to make things right/Drivin as far as he has to/ If it takes the rest of his life. The words were followed by her humming a bittersweet melody.
Whats the name of that songand dont tell me its?Big Shit Poppin.
She giggled. I dont know what the name is. I just made it up.
Be
Can you sing more? Maybe even finish what you just started?
LaShelle reached between her feet into her backpack and pulled out a ragged spiral notebook, covered in doodles and lettering that looked like street graffiti. I got about seventy songs in here that I wrote.
You pick a topic and I probably wrote a song about it.
Good God, he thought. He just might be sitting in the car with the worlds next Diana Ross! Upon closer examination of the notebook cover, he learned he was sitting next to LaShelle Davis, 112 College Avenue, Apt. 10, Indianapolis, Indiana.
Be
LaShelle cocked her head away from him in surprise. Damn if you didnt pick the one subject I know nothing about.
They drove all night. LaShelle sang a selection of music ranging from gospel hymns to country and western ballads, many of which shed written herself. Be
After they stopped for a quick bite to eat and a fill-up, LaShelle turned on the passenger-side light and finished writing the song shed started hours earlier. She sang it in its entirety, then said, Its called?The Ballad of Big Bad Be
He laughed, and she joined him. Be
They reached Reno at about two A.M. LaShelle had slept for a few hours and woke up refreshed. They had breakfast, filled up again, and were heading back to the car.
Toss me the keys, Be
Be
Once back on the highway, he was asleep in minutes.
CHAPTER 18
There wasnt much spring in anyones step that morning. They sat listless under a palm tree at Dolores Park, watching the dogs play. Roxa
Ill do it by myself if youd prefer, Bea told them, noting their lack of enthusiasm. I can handle it alone.
Roxa
I can be as subtle as the next person, Bea said.
You have many wonderful qualities, Ginger said, but youre about as subtle as a two-by-four upside the head.
Bea sniffed. Fine. Then well do it together. But you have to be ready to roll when I tell you were on. Can you do that?
Ginger nodded faintly.
Roxa
Ginger patted Roxie on the shoulder. Listen, if it makes you feel any better, I heard a rumor that theyre going to cut half the editorial staff in the weekend and features departments, so I may be next.
I heard that, too, Bea said. But I didnt want to upset you.
Ginger laughed. How could it upset me? I dont have any more?upset left in my tank! My husband left me for a girl I swear still wears a training bra. My sons are headed to death row. And Im starting to get jowls.
Bea groaned. Please spare us.
I am! Look! Ginger raised her chin and patted the underside of her jaw with the top of her hand. Im starting to look like Hillary Clinton in the last days of her primary campaign!
The air filled with cracking sounds when Roxa
Sorry. Just getting rid of some tension, she said apologetically.
All right, then. We need a strategy, Bea said.
In a weary voice, Roxa
Do you have any suggestions?
Roxie looked up, sighing. Yeah, Bea. My suggestion is we drop this whole thing before we alienate Josie forever. This is her life were fucking with. She has a right to privacy. She has a right to choose the man she wants to have a relationship with. I just cant wrap my brain around how this is okay to do to my best friend.
Bea nodded gravely. I have an answer for that.
You have an answer for everything, Ginger offered.
Rick Rousseau is not a Spike or a Randy or a Billy or a Lloyd, Bea said.
Those guys were losers and jerks, but compared to Rick Rousseau, theyre Eagle Scouts. She stopped and wrapped her arms snug around her knees, lowering her voice. Rousseau is bad news. Hes a drug addict. His girlfriends have a tendency to end up in comas. But I really think the combination of his money and his looks has Josie blinded.