Ringside Seats Ch. 03

"Neither do I," replied Tiffany. At that point, both girls were feeling a bit awkward. "Well, good night," she said.

At the same moment, both women went to give each other a hug and wound up smashing their foreheads together.

"Ouch!" the said in unison. They shared a laugh.

"C'mere," Tiffany said. She gave Lilly a quick kiss on the forehead. "There. All better."

Lilly just stared for a moment. Then she kissed Tiffany on the lips. "All better."

Tiffany licked her lips, but then she sighed. "I don't think I'm ready for . . . anything else . . . yet. If we're going to do this, let's do it right."

Lilly hugged her date. "I don't think I expected anything else." After another quick kiss, but this time on the cheek, Lilly went inside her dorm room for a fast masturbation session and a cold shower while Tiffany headed back to her parent's place to pick up her daughter.

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The next Saturday night . . .

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'What the fuck is that bitch doing?' Tiffany thought as she stood on the ring-apron, grasping the ring-rope and watch Gabby and Marcia in the ring. Gabby was distracted, making her even more incompetent than usual. Her hateful stare kept falling on Tiffany, even when she wasn't in the ring, as well as on Vicky and Jeanna, who were her tag-team partners in a six-woman tag match. It was "Good Girl" Gabby and the Warrior Maidens versus Demonica, Freaky Francine and Vixen. Gabby had taken it badly when Jeanna and Vicky had outed themselves to the company at the Friday practice after they had returned from a sort of honeymoon. But John, in an incredibly dumb move, decided to put a raging homophobe and total bitch in the ring with three people she hated and two people who sympathized with them (one of whom Gabby had almost crippled). It was a single match in a pool of gasoline, and things were about to get explosive.

Gabby threw Marcia into the turnbuckle and waited for the tag to Demonica. Tiffany jumped over the top rope and charged. Gabby wasn't selling a single move and her punches and chops were landing a lot harder than they were supposed to. Tiffany began to get a gut feeling that something was up. Finally, Gabby actually got to her spot and Tiffany clothes-lined her over the top rope. Gabby landed on her feet, even though she wasn't supposed to. When Tiffany slid under the bottom rope to continue the fight on the floor, Gabby did something that was unpardonable in professional wrestling. She made it personal. As Demonica was sliding out, Gabby reached under the ring apron and grabbed what appeared to be an actual lead pipe. Not a cardboard tube wrapped in aluminum foil or a well-disguised plastic pipe . . . actual lead. And she swung it at Tiffany's head.

Tiffany was caught off guard, but she was still able to raise her arm, taking most of the blow on her elbow. Her arm exploded in pain. Through the haze that suddenly covered her eyes, she bum-rushed her enemy as Gabby took another swing, once again catching Tiffany in the elbow. Gabby was sent sprawling to the floor as Tiffany grabbed her elbow and took several steps backward. The pain was so intense that she was afraid she would pass out.

The referee, Ron Brown, was stunned. He had to call for the bell and a disqualification, because anything else would look ridiculous to the crowd. But he had not expected this. No one had. Jeanna and Vicky had both dropped character and along with Francine and Marcia dog-piled onto Gabby before she could get up. The crowd either booed or looked confused, and the trainers and medical personnel came rushing out.

And through it all, Gabby just kept screaming, "You're not so tough, are you?!? You sick bitch! And you two are next!" she yelled at Vicky and Jeanna. Marcia and Francine had Gabby suitably restrained, so Jeanna had to keep Vicky from beating the crap out the prone psychopath.

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After the commotion died down . . .

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Deborah had just gone to check on Tiffany before she had gotten loaded into the ambulance. All the girls had been sent to separate locker rooms, so she went to the main office, looking for her husband. She found him sitting in his chair, his head in his hands.

"Have you called the cops yet?" she asked irritably. She couldn't believe the audacity Gabby had just displayed.

"Cops? Why would I do that?" he said, looking pale and puzzled at the same time.

Deborah stopped in her tracks. "Why? Because that bitch just assaulted Tiffany! That wasn't a mistake! That wasn't part of the script! That was a criminal act, you fucking moron!"

"Now let's not be too hasty. We'll give everyone a chance to cool off, and then I'll get Gabby to give her side and . . ."

"Shut the fuck up!" Deborah snarled. "There is NOTHING to discuss! She attacked my friend! Not only should she be charged with assault, she should be charged with a hate crime! Don't EVEN try and tell me you don't think this was about Tiffany being gay! You heard her . . . "

"I heard someone who was very upset at the time and . . ."

"UPSET? That wasn't upset! I'M upset! Tiff's seven-year-old daughter is going to be upset! Good God! If you don't call the police right this minute, then I will!"

John's face was red with either anger or shame. Deb couldn't tell which. "Hey, I'm the president of this company, and I'LL be the one who decides how to handle this!"

Deborah sat back on a desk. She looked her husband over with a cool and calculating stare. "I don't care how many times you've fucked her or how good she is in bed. She's a fucking criminal and she WILL be going to jail."

John went from flushed red to pale as a sheet again. "I don't know what . . ."

"Don't fuck with me. I know you've been 'fucking' with her! Just like you want to do with Marcia, and just like you did with at least five other girls! Just like you did with that ring-girl, as well as your secretary at the real-estate office. I know all about your damn affairs," she snarled, "but I let them slide. But you're so worried about your fuck-buddy getting sent away that you're willing to risk the lives and health of your employees to keep her. It's not going to happen, John. It's never going to happen again!" Deborah picked up the phone and called the police while her husband just sat there in his chair. He was helpless. He had vastly underestimated his wife's will and resolve, and he had just become a spectator in his own life.

Deborah hung up the phone with a trembling hand. "The police are on their way. I'm going to go make sure that Gabby stays put until they arrive." She picked up the phone and handed it to John. "You might want to call your lawyer," she said in an icy voice. "Because I want a fucking divorce." Deborah turned on her heel and left her husband sitting there, an empty husk watching things fall apart around him.

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The next evening . . .

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"Damnit!" Tiffany muttered, then looked around and hoped that Sally hadn't heard. Tiffany was struggling to get her pain medication out of the "child proof" bottle while only using one hand. Finally she had to use both, despite the pain in her wrapped and slung elbow. The elbow was broken, meaning she would be out of action for at least six months, and she was supposed to take it easy on the arm for at least three of those months. Luckily, the doctor's didn't see the point of keeping her at the hospital, since she could convalesce just as well at home. Her career . . . her life . . . had been put on hold.

Sally was apparently still in her room and hadn't heard her mother cuss. Tiffany sat down on the couch, grimacing all the way. She couldn't wrestle. She was going to have to call into her bartender job to see if they'd let her work. Her income had just been cut, and she didn't have any health insurance. To top things off, the monthly bills were sitting on her coffee table, almost as if to mock her. She leaned back and wiped tears from her eyes with her one good hand. She glanced over at her answering machine, which was blinking red. There were a number of messages there, but she hadn't felt like talking to anyone all day.

"Mom?"

Tiffany sniffed and quickly wiped her eyes again. "Hey honey. Your homework done?"

Sally nodded her pretty blonde head. She was carrying a piece of paper with her as she sat down next to her mother. She handed a crayon picture with stick-figure depictions of her and Tiffany at the water park. There were also figures that Tiffany guessed where Deb, Lilly, Jeanna, Vicky, and all of her relatives. "I'm sorry Mom," Sally said, putting her head in Tiffany's lap.

"It's okay sweetie. Mommy will be just fine," Tiffany said through gritted teeth. She hated lying to Sally. She knew she wasn't "fine" at all.

"Do you need to cry? I cry sometimes. But you make it better," Sally whispered. She was only seven, but she could sense her mother's distress.

Tiffany was developing a headache just trying to prevent herself from crying. Then she heard a knock at the door. Sally got up. There was a stool next to the door, and she used it to clamber up and look through the peephole. "It's Lilly and Deb," she said. She got down and pushed the stool out of the way, opening the door before her mother could concoct a reason to send them away.

"Hey," Deb said.

"Hey," Tiffany said, putting her tough face back on. "What are you gals doing here?"

Both of the women stood there and stared at her blankly. "Uh," started Lilly, "to see how you're doing?"

"Okay I guess," Tiffany said. She forced a smile. "I won't be winning any push-up contests any time soon."

"I . . . I need to talk to you," Deborah said, then looked at Sally.

"Grown-up talk?" Sally asked.

"Grown-up talk," Deb replied with a slight smile. 'That's going to be one smart kid,' she thought.

"Wanna show me your room?" Lilly asked, trying to contribute something. She had already heard what Deb was going to talk about. She had just wanted to see Tiffany.

Sally's face lit up. She loved talking about her stuff, and it was time for a tea party with her dolls. She grabbed a nervous Lilly's hand and let her back to Sally's room.

Deb sat down next to her friend and spoke quietly. "With no bullshit or posturing, how are you doing? What's the damage?"

Tiffany's mouth opened. She wanted to hand out a denial or at least a platitude, but both died on her lips. "It's broken," she whispered. "I'm out for at least six months, assuming things go well. Which they don't for me, at least not anymore. I'm broke, I've got no insurance, I can't work . . . so how the fuck do you think I'm doing?" She couldn't hold it back anymore. Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes. "I hate that fucking bitch," she said. "If I ever get my hands on her, I'll break her neck!"

Deborah was more than a little afraid of Tiffany, because she honestly believed that her friend would do what she promised to Gabby in the frame of mind she was in. "It might be a while before you get a chance. She's in jail right now. She won't be able to make bail for a bit. God . . . Tiffany . . . I'm SO sorry. I should've done something sooner . . ."

"Don't start! This isn't about you! And it doesn't matter whose fault it is, because I'm fucked!" Tiffany hurled the bottle of painkillers across the room. "What's the point of even suing that . . ." Tiffany realized that she had been steadily raising her voice, so she stopped and took a labored breath. She didn't want to get mad. She didn't want to yell at one of the only friends she had in the world. But she was losing control, and she knew it.

Deborah sat quietly next to her friend for a few moments. "I know how much you hate this . . . being in a position where you might have to ask for help . . . but you need help. From what Lilly told me, your parents would do anything for you. And you know I'll help you. As a matter of fact, I might be looking for a roommate soon, and I could help with babysitting for Sally and . . ."

"Wait," Tiffany said through her drug-induced haze. "Why would you need a roommate?"

Deb sighed. "I'm divorcing John. He . . . he wasn't going to do anything about Gabby, even after what she did. He was so afraid of his 'cover' being blown that he was going to let her get away with it. When I was the only one getting hurt, that was one thing, but I'm NOT going to let him hurt you."

"Deb, don't . . . not for me. I'm not worth it. There's the whole company to think about!"

"NEVER say that you're not worth it! And I am thinking of the company! John is willing to let people get hurt to cover up his affairs. He doesn't care about you guys! And if I do NOTHING else, I'm going to take the company away from him. He cheated on me so many times I lost count, he let you get hurt, and he's cheapened everything the wrestlers have worked for. I'm not letting him do it anymore. And damn it, I deserve better! And do you know who made me realize that? You!" Deb stopped for a breath. "I want to help you. Your parents want to, and I KNOW Lilly wants to. And I'm going to need your help. I don't know how to be single anymore, and believe it or not, it scares me. I'll get a place and cover your portion of the rent until things improve. I'm going to need your support, because I don't know how long this divorce is going to take. Don't be stubborn and prideful just for the sake of it."

Tiffany rested her head on the back of the sofa. She had already admitted that she couldn't do it on her own . . . at least for a while. "Sally?!?" she called to the back. Sally came rushing out, holding on to Lilly's finger. Lilly was wearing the "guest hat," which Sally had all her tea-party guests wear, and she was looking a trifle embarrassed about it. "C'mere sweetie." She waited for Sally to have a seat, the little girl gripping her mother's good hand. "Debbie was going to look for a new place to live, and she was wondering if we would like to go and live with her. How do you feel about that?"

Lilly was impressed. Tiffany was giving her daughter a chance to participate in her life choices, and Lilly got the feeling that the girl would probably become more accustomed to making the right choices as time went on.

Sally's eyes lit up like Christmas tree lights. "Can I pick out my own room?"

"Deborah would get first pick, but then yes . . . you could pick your own room."

"Could Lilly live with us too?" Sally asked. "I like her."

Lilly blushed.

"Lilly has her own place, but she can come over whenever she wants," Tiffany said, looking at the young woman who in turn simply nodded.

Sally scrunched up her face, making as if she were pondering the greatest mysteries of the universe. "Okay," she said at last. "As long as we can take my stuff."

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A few weeks later . . .

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"Isn't this place a little big?" Tiffany mumbled, her arm throbbing after bumping into her brother Kurt. Her brother, sister and parents had all insisted on helping her move, while her grandfather was "directing traffic." Her father was especially pleased that she was upgrading her living conditions. Her family had been furious when they heard about Gabby's attack, but they tried not to bring it up. All of them realized how bad things must have been in order for Tiffany to finally ask for help.

Deb had decided to buy a house rather than rent. Tiffany hadn't realized how savvy of a businesswoman her friend was until then. Deborah still had controlling interest in a couple of strip clubs and had money coming in of her own, outside of anything she might expect from the divorce. And since her money had been instrumental in getting the wrestling organization off the ground, her lawyer thought she had a reasonable claim to that business. Due to a smartly written prenuptial agreement, Deb wasn't exactly going to be hurting for money anytime in the foreseeable future. Tiffany also realized that Deb really didn't NEED a roommate so much as she WANTED one. So Deborah had put a down payment on a pleasant little four bedroom place in the suburbs that wasn't so far away from Sally's school that she would have to switch. All the rooms were bigger than any of the ones at Tiffany's old place. Sally had shown absolutely EVERYONE which room was hers, mentioning over and over that she had picked it out herself.

Over everyone's objections, Tiffany was helping move. She might have only had one good arm, but she was bound and determined to use it. Her boss at The Dark, the lesbian club where she worked as a bartender, had given her a week off, but Tiffany had begged him to let her start back shortly thereafter. She was moving a little slower than normal, but she had managed to survive her first week back. She was even helping out on some of the evening shifts, picking up some extra money and much better tips. Word had apparently gotten out that she had been assaulted by a homophobe, and the tips had noticeably increased. After all, there were a lot of rich, famous and influential people that enjoyed the environment that The Dark had to offer, and they didn't enjoy the intrusion of that type of hatred, even though it hadn't actually happened there.

"Well, that's the last of it," William said. "Hon, are you sure there isn't anything else we can do? We don't mind helping get stuff set up."

"Nah Dad, that's cool. As long as the bed is set up, I'm good," Tiffany said. "It's going to be a while before we figure out where everything is going." She sighed, then grumbled, "So I'll be seeing you tomorrow morning then?"

William smiled. "Yes. And stop complaining. We didn't buy you a car when you turned eighteen like proper parents, so we're doing it now. I don't want my granddaughter riding around in that heap," he said. They both knew it was an exaggeration. With Lilly's help, the car was perfectly serviceable. But her parents knew she was going to have to put a lot of miles on it, and they wanted her in something a little more reliable. Her father turned to Lilly. "I understand you'll be joining us?"

"Yeah," Lilly said. She was the closest thing to an automotive expert they had, so she was going help car shop. And she was going to make sure that Tiffany showed up in the first place, because she was driving.

"Okay, see you both tomorrow morning then," William said, then ushered the rest of the family out and leaving Tiffany to soak in her new surroundings. Things were a mess, but she felt a little optimistic for the first time since the attack. This was a better place for her to be, and a better environment for Sally.

"I feel gross," Tiffany said. The limited amount of physical exertion she had performed had left her uncharacteristically exhausted.

"Why don't you take a bath?" Deborah suggested. "I need to make a run to the grocery store. We need . . . everything. Hey, can I take Sally? I hear having a kid around helps you pick up girls."

Sally giggled, and Tiffany and Lilly joined in. "I guess that'd be okay," Tiffany said. "Just keep an eye on her. Despite what she may claim, I do NOT let her have Twinkies and chocolate milk for breakfast."

"But MOM!" Deborah said, causing Sally to giggle again. She gathered up the young girl and headed out to the car.

"Crap, I guess I'd better take a shower," Tiffany grumbled.

"Not a fan of bathing?" Lilly asked.

"It's not that. It's just taking a bath isn't an option because I can't get in and out of the tub very easily, and it's hard to reach . . . you know, everything . . . when I've got this thing on," Tiffany added, motioning towards the sling on her arm.

Lilly bit her bottom lip, then decided to go for it. "Would you like some help?" When Tiffany shot her a strange look, she explained, "You know, scrubbing your back and . . . stuff. No funny business, but I don't want you hurting yourself again."