148 - Circus

“Okay, ladies,” Gavin called, clapping his hands for attention.  The group of bachelorette guests gathered in the penthouse living room obediently provided their attention.  Petey’s dimples didn’t falter even as she silently prayed.

Please don’t let him embarrass me too much.

“We are going to have fun, fun, fun tonight!”  He waggled an admonishing finger at each of them.  “That means we’re all going to play nice.  No bitching or backbiting on my watch.  Capisce?”

Oh, God.

Carol got points in Petey’s book for effectively quelling facial evidence of any negative reaction.  Her mother though…?

“Patience, are you going to allow – “

“Awww… Mother Teresa…”  Gavin smiled with every tooth in his head visible and clasped his hands over his heart.  “It’s so very quaint that you’re seeking refuge behind Petey’s leather skirt, but I’m the maid of honor here and this is my ballgame.”  Half of the bared teeth vanished when his smile dimmed.   “You two.” The wagging finger flipped back and forth between Dorothea and Carol.  “Mom Jovi.  Ghost of Jovi past-slash-future...Do you have any issues that need resolved before we get this show on the road?” 

Petey unobtrusively rubbed her temple, where a little man with a sharp hammer had begun to insistently tap.  Jon is never going to understand a catfight between his mom and Dorothea.  Or Tony, for that matter.

She glanced over toward the fireplace, where Dorothea was standing, to find her eyebrow pointedly arched.  At first it was directed at Gavin; then she redirected it to Carol, who was seated in Petey’s chair.  “I don’t know.  Do we, Carol?”

When Dorothea, Carol and Stephanie arrived – Desiree hadn’t been able to make it – Petey asked how their ride from New Jersey had been.  Dorothea had only rolled her eyes and said, “Quiet.”  It led Petey to believe that branch of Bongiovis was still a little twisted.

Seeing Carol draw herself up until she was ramrod-straight in the seat, Petey braced herself for the explosion, silently vowing that every drop of blood spilled would be spilled a second time – from Gavin’s veins.

“No, I don’t believe so,” the Bongiovi matriarch stated calmly.

What?

“Dorothea, have you and Tony chosen a wedding date yet?” she went on to inquire with the utmost politeness.

The room went silent enough to hear a pin drop.  Petey had no idea where this was going and exchanged a questioning look with Dorothea, who merely shrugged. 

“Not yet, but we’re thinking summer.”

“You’ll be sure and let me know if there’s anything I can do to help with the planning, won’t you?”

Gavin, who displayed no evidence of ever having heard the words subtle or awkward, pushed both of his palms toward the ceiling and bumped his hip into Dorothea’s.  “Woot, woot!  Raise the roof!  You and Bro Jo are back in the family house!”

“Oh, for God’s sake!” Petey groaned.  Her mother’s eyes were as wide as saucers while Stephanie was merely giggling at Gavin’s antics. “Gavin, get a grip on yourself.”

“Hush your-self, Dollface.”  He sashayed over to Carol and planted a fanciful fist on his saucily cocked hip.  Looking down his long, aristocratic nose he drawled, “And what about Petey?  Are we on board with the Golden Child’s choice of a new mate?  You groovy with a Goth-in-law?”

“Gavin!”  Petey was mortified.  Utterly mortified.  No, she hadn’t personally spoken to Carol since last night’s debacle, but Jon had.  He’d passed along his mother’s concern and Petey had accepted it as her peace offering.  A pound of flesh was completely uncalled for.

Carol tilted her chin upward, narrowing her eyes.  “You’re a sassy little shit, aren’t you?”

He wasted no time in giving her an up-close and personal look at his thirty-two tooth smile.  “Why, yes, I am.  Thank you for noticing.”

Shoot me now.

Gavin’s artfully stubbled jaw was set, and as hard as Carol’s brilliant blue eyes.  Each was sizing up the other, determining their opponent’s worth and fortitude. 

Petey had to put a stop to this.  “Gavin…”

But Carol held up a manicured hand in request for silence.  The stand-off continued another ten seconds before she backed down with a gruff, “Yes.  I’m groovy with a Goth-in-law.”  She visually sought both Petey and Dorothea.  “My sons are smart men, and they’re both very happy.  What more could a mother ask for?”

“Well, alright then.”  He reached out to flip the ends of Carol’s nearly platinum hair.  “Come by my shop and let me give you a more flattering shade of beautiful.  You know, since we’re practically family now.”

“Yes.  Well.  Thank you for the offer.  I’ll see about that.”  If Carol set foot in Gavin’s salon, Petey would be surprised, but the woman was being nice.  It seemed as though she had truly turned a mental corner, and was trying her best to be accepting.  In the end, that’s all that was important.

“Okay!”  He rubbed his palms together gleefully, grinning from ear to ear.  “That’s one circus out of the way.  One down, one to go!”

Petey had no idea what he meant and, honestly, that made her a little nervous.  Why had she given him her credit card with no questions asked?

Because you were desperate to feel normal.

And how well that had worked out.  The painfully awkward soap opera-esque exchanges that had just taken place were a standard page in everyone’s memory book.  Right?

Even if that were true, she somehow knew this next page was her memory book alone. The Barbie-pink Jeep Cherokee limousine parked at the curb was her.  All her.  Petey could make out just a bare hint of the vehicle’s interior, but it must be something else to hear the others’ reactions.

“Wowww…” Stephanie breathed once her backside had hit the pink, black and white patterned leather bench seat running the length of the elongated SUV. 

Her mother was saying, “Don’t get any ideas.  We are not doing this for prom.”

“This is... certainly pink,” was Teresa’s observation.

Carol’s dry voice piped in with, “Does John Travolta come with this disco floor?”  Where the hell had that come from?  Jon’s mom could be funny?  It made for a pleasant surprise, but also made Petey that much more curious about the multi-hued glow shining out the door.

After the rest of the women were ensconced in the Jeep’s passenger area, Gavin held out a long, slender hand to assist Petey in joining them.  “Your pink pumpkin chariot, m’lady.”

Gripping his hand, Petey paused and tipped her face to look up at the man who was almost a foot taller than she.  “Gavin, this limo is ridiculously extravagant.  Where are we going?”

He scoffed.  “Get over yourself, Dollface.  What good is having money if you can’t spend a little now and then?  Gonna be a short trip.  Just a few blocks over.”

Stop worrying.  Enjoy yourself.

That would be so much easier with a really big glass of wine.

Stephanie’s laughter tittered out to the sidewalk.  “Even the champagne is pink!”

Champagne works.

Petey’s sigh was as much as a mental and physical cleansing as anything else.  She was in Gavin’s hands tonight.  She had signed on for this, and she had to trust him.  He could make anything an event, and with an event?  It was sure to be spectacular.  “Okay, okay.”  Catapulting herself up on tip-toe she brushed a kiss to his cheek.  “Thanks for doing this.”

“Oh, honey, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.  The look on Mom Jovi’s face when she sees… “

Her poor mind couldn’t take the worry.  “Stop.  Just let me be surprised along with everyone else.”

Winking one kohl-lined eye at her, he intoned, “Your wish is my command Tinkerella.  Let’s go to the Ovarian Ball.”

Insane.  The man is certifiably nuts.

A deep breath and one big step had Petey inside the Jeep, and she was able to get her first real look at the interior.  Everyone’s comments made perfect sense now. 

The light-up disco floor and ceiling took the ambiance through a glowing rainbow of color, from pink to blue and back again.  The glowing colors extended to the lighted columns adorning the full bar occupying the opposite side of the vehicle.  In the base of the bar was a stereo system that Stephanie was diligently scanning for music.  The flat panel televisions protruding from the top of the bar were dark, reflecting only the ceiling’s glow in their black screens. 

By the time the driver closed the door behind them, Gavin was popping the champagne’s cork and Beyonce’s voice resounded from the walls and seats, chirping about all the single ladies. 

“Drink fast, girlies,” Gavin ordered, passing the first partially-filled flute down the row and pulling another one free from its secured holder on the wall.  “We’ve only got a few blocks to get our bubble on.”  Quickly splashing the effervescent liquid into four more glasses.  When Stephanie extended her hand expectantly, he slanted a questioning brow at Dorothea before saying, “Sorry, Jovi Girl, no nose tickle for you without Ghost Mama’s say-so.”

“A sip,” Dorothea conceded with a small nod to her daughter.  “But that’s it.”  Dark hair swayed when her head swiveled to Gavin. Her eyes were even darker when she dryly informed him, “You call me that again and you’ll find yourself dropping completely off the gay-dar.”

“Mom’s a black belt in Karate,” Stephanie supplemented helpfully.

“Well, me-owwwww!” Gavin drawled with a sassy shake of his shoulders.  “Don’t get your Slippery When Wet panties in a twist, Snarkapottamus, or I won’t be your maid of honor when the time comes.” 

Petey couldn’t be sure, but she thought Dorothea mumbled, “Tragedy,” under her breath. 

Thankful for the other woman’s class in not allowing it to devolve into a ‘snap-fest’, Petey turned her attention in time to hear Gavin’s next words.  “Don’t worry,” he said conspiratorially, leaning into Stephanie as he passed her a glass holding barely a drop of alcohol.  “Wait ‘til you see what kind of sinful drink awaits you at our destination.  You’ll be drunk on the fun of it all, trust me.”

Seeing that Carol was contentedly sipping her champagne and smirking at the Jeep’s décor, Petey’s worry was directed to her mother, who had been suspiciously quiet. 

“Mom?  How’s your champagne?”

“Lovely, dear.”  Her smile was stiff and her apparent discomfort gave Petey even more cause for concern.  Her mother usually had no trouble getting along with a wide gamut of people in any given situation.  For her to act this way was odd.  Very odd indeed.  “Gavin, where is it that we’re going?”

“Our destination tonight, ladies…”  He allowed the champagne bottle to reseat itself in the ice bucket with a ‘thunk’  before collapsing against the boldly pattered leather and lithely crossing one long leg over the other.  “Is the Angel Orensanz Foundation.”

“Really?”  Dorothea tipped her champagne flute up with a thoughtful wrinkle to her brow.  “That seems more like someplace for a wedding than a bachelorette party.”

Petey drained the last of her beverage and returned the flute to its holder.  “I’m not familiar with it, but you’re not springing a sneak wedding on me are you, Gavin?”  That sounded like it would be just about his style, and she would have to hurt him.  Seriously.

“Pish posh.  Why would I take your two nights to shine and make them only one, Dollface?  We’re playing Tinkerella again tomorrow.  As far as the Foundation goes…” 

He drizzled the last of the champagne among Carol, Teresa and himself before launching into a scripted explanation.  “The Angel Orensanz Foundation is home to a magnitude of diverse performances and private events for, non-profit organization, fundraisers, concerts, fashion shows and a variety of other activities within the visual and performing arts community.”  He did add, “But Karate Kitty is right.  There are a lot of to-DIE-for weddings on the books.”

A spiky blonde head nodded out the window and he efficiently collected empty glasses.  “And there it is.  We have arrived ladies!  It’s time to party like a train full of circus freaks!”

That sums up my entire life lately.  Wonder how it would look as a tattoo?

That would necessitate a whole lot more pink bubbly flowing in her veins, but the notion made her smile as the driver opened the door.  It would, no doubt, be a night to remember.

 Next chapter is not written - life is hectic.
Anticipated post date: Sunday, August 12. ♥