Roller Coaster Ride Ch. 10

She grows dour and acknowledges, "If they even have one! I can't believe how stupid she can be!"

"Oh, there will be a ZZ Top tour, and maybe the band will still be chosen. For the sake of the girls who have been working so hard, and the band as a whole, I hope they do.

"But to be honest, as far as I care, Johnny, Tommy, Rocky, the two punks, and my ex-wife can all go to hell!.

"Before all this shit happened, I had some ideas I was going to throw out about their costumes. Things I think would jazz the show up even more. Now, I don't know if I care enough to share."

She cocks an eye "You do? What do you know about dancers' wardrobes?"

"Absolutely nothing" I reply. "But I know ZZ Top songs are fantasies, and the girls provide fantasies for the audience, so sell fantasy."

Joyce looks intrigued: "Tell me more!"

"Play to typical fantasies that men and women enjoy. For instance, they look young, so dress them like fantasy 18 year-old private school girls: short pleated skirt, white see-through blouse with a lacy white bra under it; white panties and white knee socks, wearing penny loafers or something like that.

"There are lots of songs that work with those costumes, including the whole set of 50s and 60s songs; they can do a whole set dressed like that."

Joyce looks at me with surprise, says "That's great!" and asks, "What else?"

"Well, their uniforms looks like a combination of the Cowboys Cheerleaders and the Texan Cheerleaders, so add pom-poms and high kicks, and come out the first time to one of the rock songs they perform at all sporting event, like 'Roar', 'Eye of the Tiger', or 'Thunderstruck'. Or maybe do them all, if there is time."

Joyce leans back in her chair "I can picture exactly what you want: sexy fantasies that appeal to both genders, but especially men! What else you got?"

I look at her "You're a very sexy lady -- what do you think? What's your fantasy costume?"

She tosses out a few far-fetched ideas, but eliminates them because they require elaborate costume changes. She turns back to me "So, give me another idea."

"Well, it is ZZ Top; how about a set where they wear mini dresses with white thigh highs and high heels? Not to rip those guys and their videos off, but to link the fantasy to the fantasy Top represents with 'Legs', 'LaGrange', 'Gimmie All Your Lovin', etc."

"I love it, and it's all easy! The dresses are easy on and off, they can fluff their hair, add some makeup, and change in 5 minutes! Great ideas: you are a genius!"

With a straight face, I reply, "Not really, but I do have a lot of fantasies, so..." She pokes me on the arm and laughs.

We're approaching the first ER on the route, and Saturday afternoon on January 1 there aren't other doctors available, so we decide to wake Katy up and again tell her she needs to see a doctor. I pull off on the street leading to the hospital and stop in ER Parking.

Joyce gets out, shakes Katy awake and tells her we're at the ER and she needs to see a doctor. Katy adamantly refuses, and cusses Joyce for waking her up: "I just need sleep -- leave me alone! I'm not going to any fucking doctor!!"

Who the hell is the crazy-assed woman in the back seat? A better question: where in the hell did the woman from last night, who is now the obstinate one on the backseat, come from?

Joyce tries again, and gets cussed and swung at for her troubles.

She argues with Katy, again to no avail, and I give it a try. I get cussed worse than Joyce! When I threatened to tie her up and carry her inside, she sits up and assures us in a serious way that she's fine, but she's tired and confused.

"Please just let me sleep!" she begs. "If you let me sleep on the way home and tonight, I'll go to the doctor tomorrow, I promise!"

Other than trussing her up and carrying her in, what can we do?

"Katy, that's not acceptable! If we don't stop here to get you examined, you have to promise to go to the doctor and get tested for sexually transmitted diseases tomorrow! Brittney is certain Malcom and his friends have STDs!"

She moans "nooo" but promises she will, so we start home. She's out and snoring lightly within a minute.

Is Katy injured, or just in pain? Are there internal wounds that need treatment? Are these the aftereffects of the alcohol and the drugs she was given? I have no idea, but she says she's fine and she refuses to see a doctor, so I guess she's fine until that changes.

My anger has continued to simmer, though; I think of options and make a decision.

"Joyce, I've about had enough of her bullshit! If she keeps this up, knowing what I know, something bad is going to happen. Are you going to be around for the next few days?"

She nods, "Yes, do you need me to help?"

Somberly I reply, "I need a little time away from this, and I think she needs some 'alone' time. Her actions last night -- oh, hell, for the past few weeks -- are so out of character for the person I married that I wonder if she's had a breakdown.

"I can't take anymore! I'm going to get the boys and take them with me down to my hometown. I'll go hunting for a few days, be around my family, let my anger resolve some, and let her get herself under control.

"Someone, however, needs to keep an eye on her. She says she is fine, but it appears to me she has physical issues as well as emotional, and maybe mental.

"If you are willing to be her nursemaid, stay here with her. If she doesn't recover emotionally by tomorrow, or she admits to physical pain but won't go to the doctor, call 911 and let them deal with her! Also, based on what Brittney disclosed, when she does see a doctor, she has to get a STD test. If she balks, tell her I'm not letting her near me or the boys until I know she's not contaminated with something contagious she can pass to the boys through touch or saliva."

"Tim," Joyce says, "you do need to go away, for her mental health as well as your own. I will be glad to stay with her today and tomorrow. I'll give you an update each day, and if anything happens I'll let you know immediately.

"I know she is probably horrified by what she pulled and needs time to come to grips with it, and having you here will only make it worse. We can't get her parents involved because, well, you know, so I'm her best bet. The shop is closed until the 3^rd anyway, so I'll just hang out here. Maybe I can interest her is helping me with an order, so he can change her focus for a while.

"You're a good man, but you have a hot temper. I can tell how hurt and disappointed you are in her, so I know she can tell. You go see you family and friends, calm down, I'll keep you informed, and we can plan her recovery together -- if she will let us.

"Please, Tim, if you are going to leave her, as I strongly suspect you are, don't tell her now. Let things calm down for a few days, let her get stronger and better, and then you can have the conversations you need to have with her. In the meantime, take good care of your boys and come to grips yourself. This has been traumatic for all of us, but especially for you!"

We pull up to the house. I carry Katy inside while getting cussed for waking her up, and lay her on our bed in her sweats. Joyce covers her with a blanket, and we leave the darkened room. "Do you think she's had a breakdown of some kind?" Joyce asks.

"Or is she hungover, drug addled, sore, and mean?" I ask in return. "I have no idea which it is, but I've had a belly full of her BS!"

I gather my hunting clothes, boots, and several pair of jeans, and pack plenty of clothes for the boys. My rifle, shotgun, and ammo are loaded, and I put my laptop in its carrying case. Joyce is waiting when I return to the door. I take her in my arms and give her the kiss I promised for helping, and for being our friend in this time of trail.

She responds willingly, looks up and tells me "I'll never deny you again. Anytime, anywhere, anyway, I'm yours. You're the best man I know" and hugs me tightly. I give her another kiss, rub her bottom, tell her this isn't the time or place, but I'd like to right now. We separate, she goes back toward Katy's room, and I go back to the loaded Suburban.

When I pick the boys up from their grandparents, I tell them their daughter caught something that may be contagious. I explain that she doesn't want me, the boys, or them around her so no one else will catch it, but Joyce already had the flu and she volunteered to look after her. Therefore, the boys and I are going to stay with my parents for a few days and go hunting before the season ends. I inform them that she is asleep now and needs her rest, but I'm sure she will call them when she feels better.

They react about as I expect, but acquiesce and wish us a good trip. The boys are excited about going to see their cousins and get spoiled by their grandparents some more.

We head south. I call my parents and tell them we're making a quick trip down to go hunting, and I hope there isn't any conflict; if so, we'll stay at the ranch house. They respond excitedly that we will stay with them; the boys will never be an inconvenience! I shake my head and laugh; I'm marginalized again, this time by my parents!

En route I stop by an immediate care clinic in San Antonio and get a test for STDs; surely not, but the possibilities are there.

Two hours later, I'm driving through my old home town. My brother and sister and their families are at home too, excitedly waiting. We enjoy a big greeting, and then they ask where Katy is. I reply that she caught something she thinks may be contagious, like the flu, but told us to go on so I could hunt. Everyone buys that, but they excitedly ask how the performance went. I tell them it was fabulous and I have a copy on a USB that I'll play later.

After everything is put away, beers are opened and drunk, and the easy conversation lulls me into a sense of wellbeing I haven't had in a while. The kids are all playing out, so mom volunteers for a sleepover if I'll get the disc ready so we can watch it after they are asleep.

I plug the USB into my laptop and create a file to burn to DVD. While that is burning I download the video files from iCloud to my laptop, check to make sure they are complete, take the DVD, and go into the living room. The kids are all asleep in their bedroom with the bunk beds and animals the love, but I kiss them goodnight anyway. I hear the intro and the opening song, hear the crowd as the dancers enter, return to the living room, and take a seat in a recliner.

Twenty songs and an hour later it ends, and everyone looks at me. My sister-in-law says "My god! That was amazing. Your wife is amazing! They all are, but she's just marvelous! She looks like a professional dancer and model out there."

My brother-in-law exclaims, "When she sang Strawberry Wine..." My sister interjects "She not only sang it, she made it into a hit video, all by herself! What a sweet, beautiful voice, and what an actress she is!"

"Dub recommended she sing that. She did good, didn't she?" I ask.

My BIL looks at my brother and nonchalantly says "Dub's here in town right now; dropped by this afternoon for a visit on his way from somewhere to somewhere." I notice a slight undertone, but choose to ignore it for now.

Brother Art says, "Okay, who is the other girl who sings? She sounds better than the ones I hear on the radio, and is way better looking."

"Her name is Brittney Adams. Keep that in mind; I predict you will hear that name someday on the radio and TV" I answer.

Dad said he doesn't really like the music, but he admires the pretty girls and their dancing, and grins at Mom, who elbows him. "Be careful; one of those is your daughter-in-law and they are all young enough to be your children!"

We all laugh, and I tell them it was even better in person, in my opinion, because the crowd was so into it all...and the girls are much sexier up close and live! They laugh, and then someone yawns and says it's time for bed. We break up for the night with the promise of dove hunting tomorrow at the tank by the grain fields, and deer hunting later in the afternoon at the ranch.

Before I go to bed, I pause by the computer and consider looking at the files, but realize I need sleep and that isn't the way to get it, so I shower and get in bed. I see a message on my phone from Joyce; everything is fine, Katy is sleeping, and she stayed there to make sure she's all right. I sigh in relief, and send her a string of appreciative emoji.

I sleep; it isn't all high quality sleep, but not bad under the circumstances.

Saturday, January 2

The kids are up early, full of life and joyful, so I join in. When the others arrive for Sunday brunch, I'm on the floor wrestling with the kids, who are winning. Other Dads help me, but ultimately we're all pinned to the floor by giggling, screeching kids. Mom rescues us by calling us all to pancakes and sausage.

Mom and Dad are happily keeping the kids while the rest of us go hunting. I think of Dub and give him a call as we head out; he answers breathlessly but jovially, and asks what's up. I tell him we're going bird hunting and we have an extra shotgun, so come join us. He agrees to do that, and tells me he wants a play-by-play of the NYE performance. I tell him I have my computer and the file, so he can watch it when the birds aren't flying. After a pause, he says he will be there in 30; can he bring a guest?

"Of course, see you in a few!" I reply. Art and Dee look at each other again, but say nothing.

For a guy who hasn't fired a shotgun in a year, I'm totally on target, hitting my first eight shots. My sister grabs four and puts them in her empty bag "Here, give me a few. You're going to limit out in a few minutes if you keep this up!"

Its early afternoon in January and the doves are intermittent. I'd like to try around sundown when they are flying back to water, but I'd rather be hunting deer in a tree stand in the back pasture at the ranch at that time.

Dub pulls up a few minutes later, and gets out. His guest gets out too, looking as sheepish as Dub; it's Susan. Well, I guess that explains why he was breathless when I called.

He gives me a big hug, says I'm bigger and stronger than ever, but he's still better looking. With a haunted grin he affirms, "I think you know this young lady. I thought maybe you'd like to see her, y'all being old friends and all."

She's walks over by us and I hug her rather stiffly. "Hello, Susan. Good to see you." She looks hurt and conflicted, but returns my greeting. My family members look at one another, and then at Dub.

"So, where is my shotgun? Let me show you kids how to shoot" he brags. Susan takes a seat on the tailgate, and we scatter across the field around the tank and along the brush line. Dub does well, with six birds on a dozen shots, but I still haven't missed at 15 birds and counting.

Art reminds us we need to shift gears if we are going deer hunting, so we walk back to the trucks with our birds and grab a beer, Sis can't help herself "Dub, you did pretty good for a singer -- 6 of 12 ain't bad. Of course, Tim was 19 of 19, including the four of his I have in my bag. Not bad for an old coach!"

Dub responds "And how did all you locals do? I heard a lot more shots than I saw birds falling." We all laugh and get ready to load into the trucks.

Susan interjects "If y'all don't want to drive out to your ranch you're welcome at my place across the road. It's close, we have too many deer, and I'll fix supper for you all." Everyone looks at me hopefully

"Thanks for the kind offer, but I haven't been out to the ranch in months, and I want to get out there; maybe another time." I turn and get into the truck.

Everyone shrugs at Susan and Sis says, "It's his hunting trip, but maybe later?"

Dub says enthusiastically "Yeah, y'all come out afterward and eat, and we can watch the video. Out to Susan's I mean."

Art fires up the truck and we take off, just the three men. A few minutes later Dee says, "You do know there are lots of trophy deer at the Cochina, right?"

I look straight ahead "Yeah, but I'd rather go to the ranch. If y'all want to go out there go ahead; I'll be fine on my own. I need peace and quiet anyway." The truck remains silent the rest of the way as I look around at the Brush Country I still love; wild, rough, thorny, dry, hot, and beautiful to my soul.

We've seen some good deer, but no one has taken a shot by dark, so we traipse back to the truck, unload our guns, and head back to town. It's still quiet on the way in. As we near town my brother asks, "You want to go eat out at Susan's, or what?"

I know he's expecting not, but I answer "Sure. She's a great cook, and Dub can watch the video he helped make happen." Dee texts the women and they are ready to go when we drive up. I grab my computer, kiss my boys, and join them in my Suburban.

The meal is excellent, the company amiable, and the conversation disarming: old friends are like that; the bonds reappear almost immediately. Dub catches us up on his travels and adventures, which are all hilarious when he tells them, but Dub and Susan keep giving me sidelong glances.

After a while, Dub says he wants to see the video, so I set it up on the big screen and watch it again. I'm impressed each time, and this is no different; in fact, I notice things I like that I hadn't seen before. Dub is leaning forward, watching intently; Susan is sitting on the couch by Sis and she's watching the video and me.

As it ends, Dub exclaims "Damn! What did Andrew say? I'll bet he is happy as hell I called him: that was amazing!" My SIL laughs "My word exactly!"

Art asks, "How did you get involved? That must be a story."

Dub says I called him for advice for the girls, who were working without proper representation, so he set them up with a guy from Austin he knows well. He talked to Katy, at my request, and told her to sing Strawberry Wine because the two of them sang it several times together the night before our wedding and he thinks it must have been written for her. He also knows Britt, and suggested Fever for her husky voice and smoky good looks. Everyone tells him those were good choices, and I thank him again, very sincerely.

They are all getting drunk and happy, which only makes me more depressed. I drove but I don't want to break up the party, so while they are all chatting in a circle I go to the restroom and then slip outside into the moonless night, under a zillion stars. I look up and silently ask the night what is to become of me, of my marriage, of my family.

I sense someone behind me, and smell Susan's perfume. "The south Texas sky is just unreal when there is no moon, don't you think?" I query.

She stands beside me and looks up for a few moments: "Sometimes. But sometimes it just make me feel small, alone, and sad."

"And tonight?" I ask. "Tonight it is beautiful and hopeful" she says and takes my arm. I maintain a distance: "What about Dub?"

"You know he's an old friend. He needed a place to stay and I needed company, so he's here. If I had any idea you were coming he wouldn't be," she replies plaintively.

I want to shout to her that I'm not a convenience to be enjoyed when I'm around, and that same enjoyment given to someone else when I'm not; I already have a wife who is like that! However, I just look at the stars as my heart aches from too many recent blows.

After a few pleasant moments, I disengage, tell her we need to go back inside, but we'll talk later. She looks disappointed, but goes with me. Everyone looks at us when we come back in, but I break away to get a beer and Susan takes a seat to listen to another Dub story. I linger in the kitchen for a moment of solace. I hear people saying good byes, so I return to the living room and grab my computer. I hand the DVD to Dub and tell him to call the girls and give them advice, or use it as he sees fit; I have the file on my computer.