Page 98 of Space Balls: Houston, We Have Liftoff
I have never, not once, in all my life desired to dress up like Santa. But seeing Rose dressed as a sexy Mrs. Claus, looking like a Christmas morning wet dream, makes me want to rethink all my life-long fantasies.
“I appreciate it, Rosie, but I haven’t dated, in well”—my mother, dressed in white leggings and matching sports bra and doused in what looks like a gallon of silver glitter, shrugs and laughs—"ever, really.”
“Go on, girl!” Myra, in a hunter green track suit and elf ears, eggs on my mom. “Get yourself some.”
“Yeah,” Angela butts in, eyes down as she arranges her brown triangle bikini top more securely over her breasts. “Holiday nookie is the best.” She sighs and reaches up to straighten her antler headband. “Or so I’ve heard. It’s been so long I’d make a better Virgin Mary than reindeer.”
“Sooooo.” Rose cajoles my mother with her elbow. “You’ll let me give John your number?” More elbows. “Eh? Eh?”
Mom flushes. Or I think she does. It could be the red spotlight. “I don’t think so. I’m too old for all that nonsense.”
“What?” Rose steps back, looking my mother up and down. “You’re not old—you’re hot.”
My mother laughs again, appearing youthful. Enchanted. Almost like she really, really wants to say yes.
But Mom doesn’t date. She never has. I always thought it was because she never stopped grieving Dad.
Mom opens her mouth to respond, and I’m suddenly very nervous about what she’s going to say.
“Rose.” I cut my mother off, my voice projecting over Bing’s and sounding hoarse in comparison.
Rose’s eyes snap to me, her smile vanishing. “What are you doing here?”
Four sets of eyes focus on me, their weight enough to tip the scales of judgment out of my favor.
“Is anyone else getting a sense of déjà vu?” Myra glances around. “At my age you have to be careful. One minute it’s déjà vu, the next it’s dementia.”
“I didn’t think you were here,” I tell Rose. “I didn’t see your car.”
“Anyone?” Myra asks, ignoring me.
Angela pats Myra’s shoulder. “You’re fine, Myra. I feel it too.”
“Oh, good.” With that, Myra adjusts her fold-out chair to face me and sits down, looking ready to be entertained.
Rose’s head tilts to one side. “If you didn’t think I was here, then I take it you’re not here to see me?”
One of the lights shoots across my face so I can’t make out her expression. “No. Iamhere to see you.” Holding up my hand to block the light, I walk closer to the stage. “I was going to apologize after class was over, but I got worried you weren’t here.”
“Well, I’m here.” She chews on her red bottom lip a moment. “Now what?”
My mother’s eyes have been moving back and forth between us. With each glance, her frown gets deeper and deeper. “Did you do something wrong? Is that why Brit said Rose isn’t coming to Christmas dinner?” One of her white platform fur boots taps an impatient, angry rhythm, causing silver glitter to fall around her like a snowstorm. “Do we need to have another talk?”
“God, no more talks.” I hold up my hands, warding her off. “It has nothing to do with the clitoris, Mom.”
She crosses her arms over her sports bra that doesn’t cover near enough of what I would like it to. “But you did dosomething.”
“Yes, I did.” Looking at Rose, I let her watery eyes dig the pit in my chest deeper. “I am sosorry, Rose. Honestly.”
Myra, looking like she wants a bag of popcorn, scoots forward on her chair.
Mom switches to Rose. “What happened?”
Rose lays a hand on my mom’s shoulder. “I didn’t tell you sooner because I didn’t want our last class before the holidays to be awkward.” She flicks her eyes to me, then back to my mother. “The truth is, Vance and I aren’t seeing each other anymore.”
“What did youdo?” Mom didn’t look this mad when I drove the car through the garage door when I was fifteen without a license.
“I—”
