The Firework Exploded (The Holidays #3)(14)

Thankfully, I went in to see my doctor the morning after the elbow incident, and he agreed that it would be best for everyone if he switched me back to my old prescription without so many side effects. It probably helped that I made him watch the video and explain to me in scientific, medical terms, how something like that was humanly possible.

“Anyway, as I was trying to explain to you,” Alex continues, leaning against the wall next to the water fountain. “Chicks always seem to fall for the gay guys they can’t have. Have you never seen an episode of Will and Grace? If we pretend to be gay, Scheva will realize the mistake she made and want me back. All of our problems will be solved.”

“How in the hell does that solve my problem?” I ask.

“Oh, it doesn’t. When I said our, I meant me. I was just trying to be nice and include you,” he replies with a shrug.

“Okay, we’re all set. Now Bev can spend this money on an obscene, twenty-five tier wedding cake!” Aunt Bobbie announces happily, shoving the wad of cash into her purse as her and Noel walk up to us.

“Twenty-five tiers? Tell me you’re kidding,” Noel demands. “We do not need a monstrosity of a cake for fifty people!”

Aunt Bobbie gives Noel some kind of look which has her immediately closing her mouth and turning to me with a smile.

“You know what, it’s fine. Everything is fine. Whatever cake she gets will be fine, right Sam? How are you doing? Everything fine? You don’t care about a silly cake, do you?”

Noel moves to stand in front of me and rubs her hands up and down my arms, causing me to break out in a cold sweat. What woman doesn’t care about her own wedding cake? Probably a woman who is two seconds away from cancelling the wedding because her fiancé can’t get his dick to finish the job it started, that’s who.

“Of course Sam doesn’t care!” Aunt Bobbie reassures her. “And I’m sure you’ll both be happy to know my ladies from Drag Queen Bingo night are positively thrilled about being invited to the wedding!”

Oh, this I know will make Noel’s head spin. She’s been complaining about the huge guest list for weeks. There’s no way she’s going to let Aunt Bobbie invite a bunch of drag queens she’s never even met.

Noel’s smile never falters and she just nods. “I’m so happy they’re coming!”

Her voice is entirely too enthusiastic and now I’m two seconds away from shitting my pants.

“Drag queens, you say?” Alex pipes up. “Would any of them care to help me out with a little something? Maybe a chick with a dick is what I need. Sorry, Sam. You’re fired.”

Noel whips her head around to look at Alex, and going by the way his eyes widen in fear as I stare at him over Noel’s shoulder, I’m guessing she still has the crazy smile firmly in place.

“You can’t fire Sam! No one can fire Sam. He’s fine, and I’m sure he’d be much happier if you let him help out with whatever you need,” Noel tells him. “As long as it’s nice and relaxing and calm. We like calm, don’t we, Sam?”

Yep, I’m full on freaking out when she turns her crazy eyes and smile in my direction. I want to ask her what the hell is going on, tell her to stop talking in such a Stepford Wife voice, but I’m not about to do anything that will piss her off. She’s clearly losing her shit, and it’s all my stupid dick’s fault. I don’t want her to call off the wedding. Whatever Noel wants, Noel gets.

“All of this calmness is making me have to tinkle,” Aunt Bobbie suddenly announces, moving around us and stopping right in front of Alex. “Here, hold my purse. You can practice being a chick with a dick.”

She drapes the strap over his arm and moves back to look him up and down appraisingly. “Yep, it’s totally working for you. That bag perfectly matches your eyes. You’d make a very pretty woman.”

Alex’s cheeks flush in embarrassment as he hefts the giant Coach bag up higher on his shoulder, glancing around nervously before leaning in closer to Aunt Bobbie.

“Do you really think so? I mean, I’ve gotten compliments on my high cheekbones before and I do have slim hips…” he trails off.

“I’ll invite some of the girls over this week and we’ll give you a make-over. We can do pedicures and facials and try on each other’s clothes. We’ll make a whole night of it, and you’ll see I’m right,” Aunt Bobbie reassures him. “Now, move out of my way before I start peeing all over your leg.”

Alex moves out of the way and holds his arm out for her to pass. Aunt Bobbie pats him on the cheek and heads toward the ladies’ room.

A guy who had been standing outside the doors waiting for someone and listening in on this entire exchange, pushes away from the wall and holds up his hands in front of Aunt Bobbie, stopping her from going any further.

“You can’t go in there,” he informs her in a haughty, stick-up-his-ass-voice.

There’s a moment of silence between all of us while this guy drops his hands to cross them over his chest, spreading his legs into a wider stance to block Aunt Bobbie from going in the women’s bathroom. I think we’re all too shocked to say anything immediately, unable to believe that this stranger has appointed himself as the Target bathroom patrol. It only takes a minute for me to shake off the surprise and find my voice.