More Than a Kiss (23 page)

Welcome to Las Vegas

Jordan
was jumping up and down on the hotel room bed and chanting, “She loves me!  She
loves me!”  The very expensive pillow top mattress of the MGM Grand had quite
the bounce factor.  And the louder Jordan yelled, the higher she soared.

Irma
had spirited Jordan away from Portland and Amy.  Jordan went willingly.  What
better place to get over a broken heart than the land of showgirls, glittery
lights, and cheap buffets?  Irma also brought Petronella.  It was their
honeymoon.  They had, after all, been together for one whole week.

Irma
and Petronella heard the commotion and ran into Jordan’s room from their
adjoining room.  They got there just in time to see Jordan wave a letter at
them and bounce so high that the top of her head came in contact with the
spinning blades of the ceiling fan and…

This
part has been censored due to its graphic and bloody nature.

Five
minutes later:

“Did
you learn nothing from the story of Victor Morrow and the helicopter during the
filming of
Twilight Zone: The Movie
?” Petronella said.  She was sitting
on the bed, holding Jordan in her lap while Irma pressed an expensive hotel
bath sheet to Jordan’s head in an effort to staunch the bleeding.

“Victor
who?” Jordan asked.

“It
was a cautionary tale of the eighties,” Petronella said.

“Is
my head still attached?” Jordan asked.

“Mostly,”
Petronalla said.

“Will
I live?  Be truthful.”

“Probably,”
Petronella said.  “Do you mind telling us why you were jumping up and down on
your bed?”

“I
got a letter from Edison.  She sent it FedEx,” Jordan said, pointing to a
bloody, crumpled piece of paper lying on the floor.  Irma retrieved the paper
and examined it.

“Edison
says Amy loves me.  And the whole Chad thing was a mistake.  He’s stalking
her.  She says there is definitive proof of both things.”  Jordan sat up, but
the movement made her so dizzy that she plopped back down.  “We need to go
back.  I need to go back to Amy,” Jordan said in a tangled rush of words.  Then
she fainted.

Irma
pushed Petronella aside.  She grabbed Jordan by the neck of her shirt, pulled
her into an upright position then slapped her on both cheeks.

Jordan’s
eyes fluttered open.  “Ouch.  Why’d you slap me?”

“Do
not sleep,” Irma said.  “Or Irma will slap you again.”

Jordan
rubbed first one cheek, then the other.  “Did you have to hit me so hard?”

“Yes,
Irma did it for your own good,” Irma said.  She turned to Petronella, saying,
“Call the room service.  Ask them to bring up something that is good for
stopping the flow of blood.  We must wrap her head and get her to hospital.”

“My
head hurts,” Jordan said.  She was seeing two of everything and her speech was
slurred.  “Did I drink?  Am I drunk?  Do I have a hangover?”

Petronella
picked up the phone and dialed one.

Irma
said, “Jordan, you sit here.  Irma has to make arrangements.  Irma will be
right back.”  She ran into her room.

Unseen
by Petronella, Jordan slipped off the bed and to the floor.  She crawled over
to the mini-fridge.  She opened the door and took out all the bottles of
booze.  “Such bittle lottles,” she said.  “I need a little dair of the hog,”
she slurred to herself.  She opened one bottle and downed its contents.  When
she realized she still had a headache, she downed another.  And another.

Meanwhile,
Petronella spoke into the phone, “Room service?  This is room 629.  We need
something to staunch blood flow.”  There was a long pause.  “Um… do you have a
box of sanitary napkins?  You do?!   That would be great.  Um… Do you have the
nighttime ones?  Okay, make sure they have wings.  And hurry, okay?  Goodbye.” 
She hung up and turned around.

Jordan
was sitting before the fridge with a dozen empty little liquor bottles in her
lap.

“What
are you doing?” Petronella screamed.

Jordan
looked at her, tried to focus her eyes and grinned.  “My hangover is going
away.”  She squinted at Petronella.  “Cheers to the both of you!”  She held the
last bottle before her eyes and said, “Upsy daisy.”  She downed it.

“Irma!”
Petronella yelled.  “We have problem in here!”

The Garbage Man

Amy
yelped into her cell phone, “You did?!  She did?  You did?  She did?”  She was
so excited she hopped up and down.  “Oh, Edison, I love you!  I mean, you know,
not that way.  But I do love you, I do, I do, I do!”

Amy
hung up.  She was elated that Edison had found Jordan.  She didn’t care if she
was in a hotel in Las Vegas.  All that mattered was that Jordan said she was
coming home to be with her.  She was on her way back.

By
the time Amy got to her office, she found Veronica, Valerie, Jeremy and a big,
muscled-up man standing around Chad’s limp body.  Amy studied the muscle man. 
He had a flat nose that looked like it had been flattened by a snow shovel.  He
had big ears, shiny black hair and was missing some important teeth.  “Who are
you?” she asked.

“The
less you know, the better,” he said in a voice reminiscent of Marlon Brando.

Amy
looked alarmed.

“He’s
the garbage man,” Valerie said.

Veronica
laughed.  “He’s here to pick up the garbage.”

With
that, the muscle man bent, picked up Chad and flipped him over his shoulder
like he was nothing more than a bag of flour.  He walked off down the hallway
whistling the tune to
The Godfather.

“I
thought you were just sending Chad in for a psych evaluation,” Amy said.

Veronica
and Valerie shrugged simultaneously.

Veronica
said, “All I do is fill out the forms.  They go out the door…”

“And
never come back,” Valerie said.

Going Home

“I
think you need several stitches,” Petronella said, pulling the sanitary napkin
away from Jordan’s head.  Blood leaked out.  She quickly replaced the old
napkin with a fresh one.  “Yes, definitely stitches.”

“I
have to see Amy.  She can fix me up,” Jordan slurred.

Irma
said, “I have a plane waiting for us.  It will take us back to Portland.  From
there I have a limo waiting.  It will get us to the hospital where Amy works.”

“Yippee!”
Jordan yelled, jumping to her feet.  The sudden movement made her woozy.  “Oh
my,” she said.  Her eyes rolled back in her head and she flopped onto the bed,
unconscious.

Irma
grabbed Jordan and threw her over her shoulder.  She turned to Petronella. 
“You will be okay?  You will follow us in car?”

Petronella
nodded.  “I will be back in your arms in no time.”

Irma
grinned slyly.  “Irma loves Petronella.”

“And
Petronella loves Irma,” Petronella said.  She grabbed Irma and kissed her
passionately.

Jordan’s
eyes opened.  From over Irma’s shoulder she said, “Do you two mind?  I’m
bleeding up here.”

Edison and Isabel

“Oh
my God,” Isabel moaned.  She was sprawled under the covers of Edison’s bed with
the Corndog in her hands and between her thighs.  It had taken them
approximately twenty-three hours to go from meeting each other to rolling
around in bed.  This was not a lesbian record.

“Right
there?” Edison asked.

“A
little to the left.”

Edison
was sitting on the edge of the bed with her back to Isabel.  She was wearing
her camera sunglasses.  She held a remote control in her hands.  She moved the
thumb toggle to the left.

“Oh
my God!” Isabel shrieked in ecstasy.

“How’s
that?  Good?” Edison asked.

“Better
than good,” Isabel panted.  “Better than…Oh my God. You’re a genius.”

Edison
beamed.

Leaving On a Jet Plane

Ten
minutes later, Irma and Jordan were sitting in a private jet, flying over the
skies of Nevada.  Jordan was slumped in her seat with her chin on her chest. 
Irma slapped her.

“Ow!”

“No
sleeping.”

“You
Russians are mean,” Jordan said.

“It
is our way,” Irma said.  “We protect our soft hearts with armor.”

“Whatever,”
Jordan said.  “How much longer until I get to see Amy?”

“Not
long.”

“How
did you get this jet on such short notice?  Who’s is it?”

Irma
smiled and shook her head.  “The less you know, the better.”

Jordan
felt the top of her head.  It was sticky and oozy.  “I think I need to change
my sanitary napkin.”

Just
as Irma predicted, not much later the jet was landing at a private airport on
the outskirts of Portland.

Jordan
sat up straight in her seat.  “How do I look?”

Irma’s
eyes roamed over Jordan.  From the bloody sanitary napkin on her head to the
blood spattered shorts she wore.  “You look like you need medical attention.”

Jordan
was delighted.  “Perfect, Amy will know that I need her.  So, I really look
injured then?”

“Yes,
you have that sufficiently covered. Now, let’s go.”

Victor,
the big bearded pilot, opened the plane door as soon as the ground crew wheeled
the stairs over.  “Thank you so much,” Jordan said, trying to shake his hand. 
She missed it several times.  It seemed her eye-hand coordination was still off
kilter.

He
grasped her in a bear hug.  “May your love save you.  Go in peace,” he gave her
a hearty pat on the back and Jordan weaved from side to side.

“Victor,
can you get her down the stairs?” Irma asked as she poked her head out the door
and ascertained the difficulty for someone with impaired motor skills.

“This
little twig of a girl?  Ha!”  He lifted her up and over his shoulder and before
Jordan had time to process what had happened she was in the back of another
limo.  Victor held the door open for Irma.

Irma
smiled at him.  “Victor, you shouldn’t have.”  She kissed him on both cheeks.

“Victor
is here should you ever change sides,” he said, kissing her hand.

Irma
was all business when she got in the limo.  “Take us to University Hospital
quickly before she leaks all her fluids out,” she told the driver.

He
was a thin, reedy looking man.  In a deep voice he said, “Yes, comrade.”

Jordan
watched as the lights of Portland danced across the glass of the limo.  She was
glad to be home.  If she could’ve hugged the whole city she would have.  “My
homeland,” she whispered, leaning her head against the window.  She closed her
eyes.  She was so happy.

Irma
pulled her upright and slapped her.  “No sleeping.”

“Ow,”
Jordan muttered.

“We
are almost there.  How do you feel?” Irma gave her the once over.  “Never mind,
you look awful.  Irma swears on Babushka’s grave if you die Irma will haunt you
forever.”

“But
you have to die before you can haunt someone, silly,” Jordan said.

“Your
little doctor will kill Irma,” Irma said.  “Irma will be dead.”

“Don’t
worry.  Amy will just kill you a little bit.”

Irma
shook her head and swore under her breath.  Jordan didn’t know exactly what she
said, but it sounded like she said something about a mother and a moose and a
compromising position.

The
limo pulled into the emergency room entrance at University Hospital.  Jordan
grabbed Irma’s arm.  “I only want Amy.  No one else.  Please.”

“Yes,
I know.  Irma will make sure of that.”       

The Happy Ending

Amy sat beside Jordan’s bed,
holding her hand.  Jordan had several tubes in her arms and her head was
bandaged so thickly it looked like she was wearing a white turban.  After a
moment, Jordan’s eyes flickered open.  She saw Amy and smiled.

“I
must be in heaven.  There’s an angel sitting beside me,” she said.

Amy
laughed.  “Did you just now make that up?”

“Yeah,”
Jordan said.  “Did you like it or was it too corny?”

“A
little thick on the syrupy side, but I still liked it.”

There
was a long pause as they gazed at each other.  Jordan was the first to look
away.

“I’m
sorry,” they both said at the same time.

“What?”
they both said again at the same time.

They
laughed.

“You
go first,” Jordan said.

“Okay,”
Amy said.  “You have sixteen stitches in your head.  You lost quite a bit of
blood. I had to shave part of your head, so you’ll have a nice bald spot for a
while.  Other than that, you’re in good shape and Chad was a mistake and I
should have told you about him but I didn’t want to lose you and he was psycho
and we don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

Jordan
asked, “My turn?”

Amy
nodded and braced herself.  She was expecting the worst.  She knew she didn’t
deserve the love of this beautiful and talented woman.  Still… she hoped.

Jordan
took a deep breath, “I was scared.  That’s why I ran.  The whole Chad thing was
an excuse to run.  Deep down I knew you loved me and not him.”

Amy
raised her eyes to Jordan’s.  They were glistening with happy tears.

Jordan
continued, “Remember the last time I was here and you sewed me up?”

“How
could I forget?”

“I
told you something about how babies survive falling out windows.  Remember
that?”

Amy
nodded.  “You said the babies weren’t scared.  They didn’t know fear.  So they
bounced.  It was the bouncing that saved them.”

“That’s
right,” Jordan said.  “So, I figure I’m going to do the same thing.  I’m going
to fall and relax and…”

“Bounce,”
Amy finished for her.

“Yeah,”
Jordan said.  “I’m not going to be scared.  I’m going to let myself fall.”

Amy
reached over to Jordan’s nightstand and picked up a book.  She held it out to
Jordan along with a pen.  “Do you mind signing this for me?”

“This
is my book,” Jordan said.  “I mean it’s not mine, it’s yours obviously, but I
wrote it.”

“You
never finished autographing it,” Amy said.  “I was hoping you could do that
now.”

“Gladly.” 
Jordan took the pen and the book.  She opened it to the title page and wrote:
Amy,
What are you doing the rest of your life?  Jordan
.

Amy
read it and smiled.  “I think I have plans,” she said.

“You
do?”

“If
you’ll have me.”

Jordan
crooked her finger at Amy and motioned for her to draw nearer.  Once Amy was
close enough, Jordan leaned forward and kissed her.

The
sound of applause broke their kiss.  Stunned, they looked toward the door. 
Crowded in the doorway were a smiling Claire and Lillian.

Behind
them an old woman plodded down the hallway pushing her IV stand.  She
stopped and looked into the room to see what they
were applauding.

“That’s
my daughter,” Claire said proudly.  “She’s a lesbian.”

“And
she’s in love,” Lillian added.

The End

If you
enjoyed this book, we’d really appreciate it if you’d tell your friends –
including those you haven’t met – by blogging, posting an online review, or
otherwise spreading the word.  Thanks!

Layce
and Saxon

About the Authors

Layce
Gardner has been writing for over half her life.  She has written umpteen
plays, a slew of movies and a whole gob of books and short stories. 

Saxon
Bennett has written fifteen or sixteen or maybe seventeen books (she lost
count) and is the winner of a bunch of awards. 

Saxon
and Layce are happily married.  To each other.

You can
learn more about the authors by visiting their websites at
Laycegardner.com
 and
Saxonbennett.wordpress.com

You can
check out Layce’s other books at her
Amazon
author page
.

Check
out Saxon’s books at her
Amazon
author page
.