The Gold Dollar Girls

Kayla shrugged and turned to go to the dressing room. She heard Clover and LeAnn murmuring behind her back and had to resist the urge to flip them off. Fuck those bitches, she thought, maybe their men will come in some night when they aren't around.

***

Rhonda startled, and realized that she had fallen asleep. She looked at her phone. It was almost two. The doctor had told her that they would let her know when her mother regained consciousness. She was starting to wonder if she should have told them to call her and gone home.

She took out her phone and called Bryant. When he did not answer, she left a message.

"Hi, babe, it's me. I've kind of got a family situation, and if you're still up, I could use a little TLC when I get home. If you are already asleep, don't worry. We'll talk in the morning."

She stood and stretched. There was a coffee maker on the counter. She poured a cup, and took a sip. It was awful. She added more sugar and it was still awful. She was looking for a place to dump it out when the doctor she had spoken to earlier came into the waiting room.

"How is she?" Rhonda asked.

"Well, she's awake..."

"But she's still wasted."

The doctor shrugged. "You've been through this before."

"A couple of times."

"Do you know what she took previously?"

"Pretty much any kind of pills she could get her hands on."

He shook his head. "Well, I'm afraid she's gotten worse. She tests positive for fentanyl."

"Shit."

"She's pretty banged up. She's claiming that she fell down the stairs, but it might be domestic abuse. Someone called 911 and reported the overdose, but she was alone when the EMT's arrived."

"Well, her social life is about as stable as you would expect, so who knows."

"She should go into rehab."

"She won't."

He nodded and sighed.

"So, I ought to go in and see her," Rhonda said. She thanked the doctor as he gave her directions to her mother's room.

The first thing Rhonda noticed was that there was a clump of hair missing on the left side of her mother's head. She walked around to the foot of the bed and looked down at her. There was a large bruise on her right cheek and her bottom lip was swollen. Rhonda looked her over and saw more bruises on both of her forearms, and wondered how many more were hidden under her hospital gown. It was hard to imagine all that had come from a fall on the stairs.

"Hey, Mom," she said in a quiet voice, "How you feeling?"

Her mother gazed up at her with bleary eyes.

"Ronnie, my baby, you came for me?" Her voice was slurred, but coherent.

"Of course I did, Mom." She sat down on the edge of the bed. "So, what happened?"

"I just got a little bit of a buzz on and fell down the stairs, that's all." She closed her head and was silent for a moment. Rhonda thought she might have lost consciousness, but her eyes opened again.

"Ronnie, tell them I am ready to go home."

"No, Mom, you've got to stay for a while yet. At least until..."

"Until what?"

"You know what, Mom."

"You know, you aren't one to judge me."

"I'm not judging you."

"Yes, you are. You look down your nose at me. You and your faggot father both." She struggled into a more upright position. "You have never been there when I needed you. My own little girl..."

Rhonda took a dip breath, struggling not to lose her temper. "That's not true, Mom. I let you come live with me, and that didn't work out."

"You thought I stole from you."

"I'm not going to have that argument again, Mom."

"Then let me come stay with you again. You've got that nice apartment and I live in a shithole."

"We both know that won't work, Mom."

"You never help me."

Rhonda felt a hot flush of anger. "I've loaned you thousands of dollars and never gotten any of it back. I paid the security deposit on your place. I bought you a car..."

"A piece of junk."

Rhonda sighed and shook her head. "I knew this was going to happen. Look, I came to see if you were alright. If you're well enough to start a fight, I guess you're okay."

"So, you are going to abandon me again?"

Rhonda stood up. She turned to leave, but hesitated when she realized her mother was crying.

"Mom, I..."

"Just go. You think you're ashamed of me? How do you think I feel?" The volume of her voice rose. "My only daughter. I tried to raise you right, and you grew up to be whore."

A nurse stuck her head into the room. "Is everything alright here?" she asked.

"No," Rhonda's mother shouted, "There is a whore in my room, make her leave."

Rhonda rushed from the room, fighting to hold back tears, She could still hear her mother shouting "Whore!" when she closed the elevator doors. She could still hear it ringing in her head when she was in her car driving away.

She looked at the dashboard clock. It was just after two thirty. She wasn't tired anymore. He felt agitated, wired. She doubted she would be able to sleep at all.

She turned from her route home and drove by the Finest Kind. She slowed when she saw Clover's car in the parking lot. Actual coffee would be good, she thought, maybe a piece of pie or something.

Clover was sitting alone in their usual booth, sipping on a cup of coffee. She looked up when Roxanne dropped on to the opposite bench.

"Where the fuck you been?" Clover asked.

"Family thing."

"Family thing that made your mascara run all down your face? You look like a fucking panda."

Roxanne looked at her reflection in the dark window, and wiped her face with a napkin. Clover was looking at her with one eyebrow cocked when she turned back to face her.

"Well, you gonna tell me, or not?"

Roxanne stared at her for a minute. She didn't talk to anyone about her mother. She intended to tell Clover to mind her own business when Mildred approached the table.

"Coffee, dearie?" she asked.

Roxanne nodded and Mildred filled her cup. "Get you anything else?"

"Do you have apple pie?" Roxanne asked.

"Sure do."

"Can you melt some cheddar cheese on it?"

"Can do." Mildred scribbled on her pad and walked away.

"Are you stoned?" Clover asked.

"No, I'm not stoned."

"But you want melted cheese on your apple pie?"

"It's good."

Clover grimaced. "So, bitch, since I had to carry an extra load tonight so you could run off, you fucking owe me an explanation."

"You made good money, being one girl short, though, didn't you?"

"That's beside the point. Talk."

Roxanne opened her mouth, hesitated, then spoke in an uninterrupted rush, not even pausing when Mildred set her pie down on the table.

"My Mom is an addict. Anything. Pills, booze, coke, now she's apparently into fentanyl. This has been going on as long as I can remember. And I have done everything I fucking can for her, and nothing makes any difference. The more I try to help, the more she resents me. Now, she is in the hospital because she got fucked up and supposedly fell down the stairs, but that is bullshit, somebody beat the fuck out of her, but she won't say. And who is she mad at? Me."

Roxanne sniffled back a tear.

"I'm sorry, babe," Clover said.

"She called me a whore. She was actually yelling it at me in the hospital for everyone to hear."

"Shit, if I knew you were so sensitive about being a whore, I wouldn't bring it up so often."

Roxanne snorted. "You have to make a joke about everything, don't you?"

"It's my, what do you call it...coping mechanism. But, seriously, I'm sorry you have to deal with that."

"Thank you. I'm sorry I left you hanging."

"It's okay. It was no big deal. Slow for a Friday. Oh, and check this out. That fucking Kayla..."

Roxanne rolled her eyes. "Oh Jesus, what now?"

"Closing time, me and LeAnn were at the bar, just shooting the shit on my way out. We thought she was already gone, when she comes out of the privates with some guy. Says goodnight to him at the door, gives him a big hug and shit. Turns around, and the slut has got cum on her fucking chin."

Roxanne laughed. "Are you sure?"

"Bitch, I've seen come a few times. Yeah, I'm sure."

"Sherry wasn't around?"

"She was already gone. That chick is going to get herself shitcanned one of these days."

"I warned her."

"I did too. I mean, we all pull an extra now and then, you know, special occasions, but for fuck sake, that bimbo's got no common sense."

Roxanne nodded and took a bite of her pie.

"That actually don't look bad," Clover said.

"Want a bite?"

"Why not?'

Roxanne lifted a piece of pie on her fork and held it in front of Clover's mouth. Clover ate it and looked at her in surprise.

"That's good as hell," she said, laughing.

"Share?"

"Okay."

They sat, not talking, and took turns eating the rest of the pie.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Charlene was halfway to the Gold Dollar when her phone buzzed on the seat next to her. She picked it up and saw it was Bridget calling. She had been waiting impatiently for days to hear the decision of Child Protective Services. She yanked the wheel and veered into the Jiffy Lube parking lot and answered it before coming to a full stop.

"You got news?" she blurted, without any greeting.

There was a short silence, then Bridget replied, "Yes, Charlene, I've got news..."

"Fuck," Charlene barked, "Bad news, I can tell."

"I'm sorry, honey."

"What did they say?"

"That they do not believe you can provide a stable environment for a child, due to your work situation."

"Because I'm a sex worker."

"Because of the odd hours, mostly."

"That's what they said, but we both know what they meant."

Bridget was quiet for a few seconds. "Yeah."

Charlene fought back tears. "Now what?"

"My suggestion is that you call their bluff. Switch to day shift and apply again next year."

"They'll have another excuse."

"I'm sorry dear. I don't know what else to say."

"Okay. I know you done your best. Thank you."

"Take care of yourself, Charlene."

"Bridge?"

"Yes?"

"I'm a good fucking mom."

"I don't doubt it."

Charlene hung up, sat calmly for a moment, then bounced the phone off her windshield.

"Fuckity mother fuckers. Fuckfuckfuck!" She pounded her fists on the steering wheel and screamed. She huffed loudly, then fought to control her breath and calm down.

"Jesus christ, I have to go in and dance for these assholes," she muttered when she had regained her composure. "This better be an easy night."

***

Sporty was leaning on the wall next to the door when Roxanne pulled in and parked in front of the Gold Dollar.

"You best be chill around your girl," he told her as she walked toward him.

"My girl?"

"Clover. Bitch got some serious attitude tonight. I just said hey and she told me to stuff a ham up my ass."

"Oh, christ."

"I thought she was just playin'. I said where am I getting a ham, she says, off your Mama's ass. That girl ain't right, Roxy."

Roxanne shook her head and went inside. Before her eyes could adjust to the light, Georgie took her arm and pulled her toward the bar.

"What's going on?" she asked him.

"Clover got the news today. She lost her custody case."

"Ah, fuck. Sporty told me she was..."

"Let's just say out of sorts."

"Yeah, out of sorts."

"Well, look, just help me keep an eye on her, okay?"

"Sure." Roxanne sighed as she walked back toward the dressing room. When she reached the door, she took a deep breath before opening it.

Clover was sitting at the dressing table, her back to the door. Roxanne stepped behind her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't even start with any boo hoo, I'm so sorry shit," Clover said, without looking up.

"Okay," Roxanne said, "But can I do this?" She bent down and hugged Clover around the shoulders and rested the side of her face on the top of her head.

Clover was silent for a moment, then said, "Yeah, that's alright."

They stood that way quietly for a few minutes.

"We'd better get dressed," Roxanne said.

"Yeah, I guess."

Roxanne thought to change the subject as they got into their dance outfits. "So, it's Bryant's birthday. He's going to come in later. I told him I'd give him a special dance and then I've got a room at the Riverside Inn for after."

"He's got to be happy about that," Clover said.

"I don't know, the last few weeks things have seemed different. Like something shifted. I was hoping that tonight might, you know, spark things up again. But he acted like he really didn't want to come. Men, who knows?"

Clover sat down to put on her shoes. "My husband used to come watch me dance. He really got worked up at the notion I was turning other guys on. In fact, we started coming here for amateur nights. He worked at Atlas Metal, across the street. When they closed down, I started dancing pro."

"I didn't know that."

"Yeah, I become a stripper to take care of my family, and now, because I'm a stripper, they won't let me have my son. Ain't that some shit?"

"I think this is when I say boo hoo, I'm sorry."

"No, this is when we go shake our tits."

"Alright. Let's dance."

The early business was slow, and Roxanne was able to keep an eye on Clover. She was going through the motions, but was not dancing with her usual bawdy energy. Roxanne could tell that she was off her game, and Georgie, who was hanging around the stage area more than usual, certainly could as well, but she doubted that any of the customers could see anything amiss.

By the time business began to pick up, Misty and Kayla had arrived, and everything seemed normal. Bryant was planning to come in around eleven, so Roxanne put out a little extra hustle, and managed to get in a half dozen private dances before she expected him.

She was returning to the stage when she saw him come in. She watched him approach the bar and place an order. He looked up and they made eye contact. She gave him a little wave, and he waved back sheepishly.

A large man in a tan suit approached the stage and sat at the rail in front of her. She recognized him immediately; his name was Bill, he was a regular and a big tipper. She looked back toward the bar. Bryant was sipping a glass of beer and watching her. She smiled at Bill, and then moved over to the next pole where Misty was trying to get a rise out of a couple of guys who looked too drunk to focus on watching her.

She put her mouth next to Misty's ear and said, "Hey, honey, I've got a whale on the rail, but my boyfriend just came in..."

"Really, which guy is he?"

"At the end of the bar."

Misty squinted into the lights. "Has he been in here before?"

"No, but it's his birthday, so I've got a special treat planned for him."

"Huh. He looks familiar. Yeah, so you want to switch poles, and give me the whale?"

"Yeah, this guy is a really big spender."

"Cool."

Roxanne hopped down from the stage. As she passed the whale, she leaned down. "I've got to take care of something, but Misty will treat you right, okay?"

"Sure, no problem," he nodded, looking Misty up and down.

"Come see me again," Roxanne said, patting him on the shoulder.

Bryant smiled when she sat down on the stool next to him. He bent his head to kiss her, but she pushed him back. "No, babe, don't kiss me out here. The other customers will see, and think they can too."

"Oh, right. You want a beer?"

"No, thanks. No drinking on the clock."

"That big blonde chick was having a drink with a guy a few minutes ago."

"It's bogus. A guy offers to buy you a drink, you say sure, the bartender gives you a glass of straight soda water and charges him for a scotch and soda."

"That's fucking cold!"

"All part of the hustle, babe."

Bryant seemed nervous as he looked around the club.

"I hope you don't see anyone you'd prefer to get a birthday dance from," Roxanne said with a laugh.

"Well, they are all pretty good looking."

"Wrong answer, but I'll let it slide. Is that yours?" she asked, pointing at a nearly full pitcher for beer.

"Yeah."

"Bring it." She stood and motioned for him to follow her. She weaved her way between the tables. The two drunks had moved over to Clover's pole, and Bryant sat down at the front table. Roxanne winked at him and climbed on to the stage.

She went first to the pole, and showed him her best moves. She did a simple climb, and a few hanging turns. She locked her ankles, and did an inverted hang, then lowered herself for a handstand, then showed him a hanging split.

With her legs spread wide, she slid to the floor, then crawled to the edge of the stage, and gestured for him to move his chair to the rail.

He drained his beer glass, then looked nervously around the room, then pulled the chair forward.

She flicked the catch in the front of her bra, and shook it off, then leaned forward and squeezed her tits together only inches from his face.

"How would you like some alone time, honey," she said.

"Yeah, great," he said eagerly.

She slipped off the stage and took his hand. Once again, he looked around the room.

"Don't be nervous, babe," Roxanne laughed.

As they were about to enter the private room alcove, Clover approached Roxanne.

"Hey, chicky, I know you're busy, but could you help me with something for a minute?" She smiled at Bryant. "I won't keep her long."

"Yeah, sure," Roxanne replied. She opened the door to the first room. "Wait for me inside, babe, I'll just be a minute."

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Clover tugged on her arm and guided her into the dressing room.

"You okay?" Roxanne asked.

"So, that's your boyfriend?"

"Yes."

"Okay, don't get pissed at me..."

Roxanne chuckled. "What did you do, blow my boyfriend?"

"Not me."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Clover leaned her hand on the door, ensuring no one would walk in on them.

"That night you went to the hospital to see your mother..."

"What about it?"

"He came in."

"I don't think so."

Clover shook her head. "I thought I recognized him and I asked LeAnn, and she said, yep, that's the same guy."

"What same guy?"

"Remember I told you that Kayla came out of the private room with a guy at closing time?"

Roxanne stared at her for a minute, feeling her chest tighten. "And you said she had come on her face," she muttered.

"Roxy, I'm sorry, but it was him."

"Misty said he looked familiar, too," Roxanne said, crossing her arms and looking at the floor.

"Hey, does he drive, like an old classic car or something?"

"He's got a 1967 Mustard convertible. Why?"

"Because there was a vintage convertible in the parking lot that night. I remember wondering me and Sporty were laughing, saying who the hell drove something like that to a shithole like this."

Roxanne felt like bursting into tears, but managed to hold them back. "Okay, well, thanks for telling me."

"I said in the first place that that little bitch was nothing but trouble," Clover muttered as they left the dressing room.

Roxanne stood for a moment in front of the door to the private room. She took a deep breath and went in.

Bryant was reclined in the chair, his legs splayed apart.

"You know you really look great," he said, "I like those big platform shoes."

Roxanne leaned back on the door. "Oh you like them?" she asked, raising her right leg and resting her heel on the edge of the chair between his legs.

"Yeah, you're almost as tall as I am with them on."

"So, have you ever had a lap dance before?"she asked in a bright, chipper voice.

"No, this will be a first."

Roxanne pressed the sole of her shoe against his crotch. He gazed up at her with a puzzled expression.

"Have you ever been in a strip club before?"

He shook his head. "Nope, Never."

She pressed down harder and he looked alarmed.

"Ever get your dick sucked in a private room by some little blonde bitch?"

Bryant sat up straight. "Wait, Rhonda...what are you talking about?"