Maybe Baby Lite (23 page)

“
Check this out Ty! I see
another one of those ‘mirror twin’ features.”

I looked at the picture
again, closer this time. By God she was right: each of them had a
hard-on under those tight jeans; one’s curved to the right, the
other’s curved to the left.
I brought my
hand up to my mouth in horror. Oh My God. This was so not
good!

Gina’s laughter was
contagious. The twins were looking sheepish and Gina and I were
ready to pee our pants.

She pulled herself
together enough to place her bet for the last race of the evening.
It was going to start in less than 10 minutes. I sat down trying my
best to compose myself as the people around us were starting to get
irritated. I needed to chill out and sober up a bit.

Just as Gina returned from
placing her bet, my cell phone rang. I glanced down at the caller
I.D. It was Trey.

Oh Shit!

“
Hello,” I answered trying
my best not to sound inebriated.

“
What are you doing?” he
asked; his voice full of anger.

“
Watching the races,” I
replied innocently.

“
What was with the picture
you just sent?”

“
I didn’t send it, Gina
did, by accident,” I replied loudly.

“
Who are those two idiots
with you?” he demanded, totally incensed.

“
Twins,” I replied,
giggling, followed by a hiccup. “Did you see my
bellybutton?”

“
I saw quite a lot of you
in that picture, Tylar. This is how you behave
yourself?”

Gina and the twins were
staring at me now. They'd figured out that I was in some sort of a
pickle with someone. Gina knew exactly who it was. They were
waiting to see how it would play out. I didn’t appreciate getting a
lecture from Trey every time I went out and had some
fun.

“
I'm sending someone to
get you Tylar,” he snapped.

“
I’m not ready to leave
yet,” I slurred into the phone. I hiccupped again.

“
Tylar, I mean
it—”

I powered off the phone
before I heard whatever it was Trey planned on yelling over the
phone.

“
I need another wine,” I
announced, dropping my phone into my purse cockily.

I was leaning over the
toilet in Trey’s bathroom, heaving. Still dressed in my jean skirt
and top I'd no idea how long I'd been at this. To the best of my
recollection, Gina was in her bathroom playing the same song in her
toilet. I tried to gather my thoughts as to how we'd even gotten
back to the manor. Everything was so fuzzy…and painful. I promised
myself that I'd never, ever drink again. I couldn’t imagine what I
was throwing up other than the wine; I hadn’t eaten anything since
breakfast. My head was throbbing already. Another spasm hit and I
leaned over the toilet once again.

I finally managed to crawl
up from my crouched position. I flushed the toilet, staggering over
to the double sink vanity. I looked like something a cat puked up.
My mascara was smeared halfway down my check on each side. My eyes
were bloodshot and my hair was matted. I ran my fingers through it
and realized it was vomit.

Eeww!

I debated whether I could
stand long enough to take a shower. There's no way I was going to
bed with puke in my hair. I made my way to my room, using the walls
on each side of the hall to bounce off of until I reached it. I
grabbed clean undies and Trey’s navy blue bathrobe and headed back
to Trey’s bathroom.

Once there, I stepped out
of my clothes and turned the shower on, getting the temperature
adjusted. I stepped in and began scrubbing myself. I shampooed my
hair, twice. Gingerly stepping out of the shower, I wrapped my hair
up in a towel and wrapped Trey’s robe around me.

What to sleep in? I turned
the light on in Trey’s closet and stepped in it was nearly the size
of a small bedroom. He had rows of neatly pressed shirts, dress
pants, casual pants, and shirts. I saw one of his french cuffed
white business shirts hanging on a hook, as if he'd changed quickly
and hadn’t had time to throw it in the laundry chute in the
bathroom. I lifted one of the sleeves up to my face, catching his
scent. I quickly shed the robe and put the shirt on, rolling up the
sleeves as their length went clear over my hands. I buttoned it up
to just above my breasts and rubbed it against my skin.

I returned to Trey’s
bathroom and brushed my teeth and gargled. My head was still
pounding. I dug through the medicine chest and found some Advil,
popping a couple. I didn’t bother to take the towel off of my head;
I went back into the bedroom, pulled down the covers of Trey’s bed
and climbed in, pulling the blankets up under my chin. I looked
over at the clock on Trey’s bedside table. It was almost 3 a.m. How
did we even get back here? I must've blacked out. So not
good.

It seemed as if no time
had passed since my head hit the pillow that there was a faint
knocking on my door.

“
Come in,” I called out,
the echo of my voice reverberating in my head, amplified a hundred
times. Gina bounced in, wearing her short silk robe, holding a cup
of coffee and her unlit cigarette. She hopped up on the bed,
putting her coffee on the nightstand, while she climbed under the
covers.

“
You going to sleep all
day, girlfriend?” she asked in her usual bubbly manner. She grabbed
the remote off the nightstand and turned on the flat-screen. She
channel surfed as well as any man I knew, and just before I was
about to snap at her to stop, she landed a channel that caught her
attention.

“
Oh Ty,” she said, “TCM's
running Hitchcock movies all weekend!”

“
Oh God, turn it down a
notch,” I said, wrapping the goose-down pillow around my still
throbbing head.

“
This is one of my
favorites, ‘Marnie,’” she continued, all bubbly and normal. She
glanced over, sensing my less-than-enthusiastic mood. “You look
like shit; we can fix that.”

She bounced off of the bed
and padded over to the intercom on the wall, hitting the button to
alert someone on the staff. In a few moments, Thatcher’s voice came
over the intercom.

“
Yes, miss?”

“
Thatch, this is Gina
here.”

Oh God, she’s calling him
'Thatch'.

“
Tylar's a bit under the
weather this afternoon. Could you please send up a tray with the
following?”

I couldn’t listen any more
when she started rattling off various food items. I wrapped the
pillow tightly over my head. She climbed back into bed after
advising the staff what was required as if she owned the place.
Gina had balls.

“
You’ll be fixed up
shortly, girlfriend. No worries. I’m not going to let you ruin one
of our perfectly good days off.”

I eyed her
warily.

“
Hey, I cleaned up pretty
well at the track last night. I’m $250 richer today,” she
bragged.

“
Is that after you paid
our bar tab?” I asked.

“
There, she’s coming
around folks, getting back to her normal smart-ass
self.”

“
How can you possibly be
so chipper?”

“
Simple, Ty, I left a note
on the kitchen counter before I went upstairs to my own puke-fest
last night requesting what I needed on my breakfast tray, and what
time I needed it brought to my room.”

She smiled, pleased with
herself. She leaned back against the pillows she'd stuffed behind
her back, turning the volume up just a bit on the television. “I
love this part where he takes her on a cruise for their honeymoon
and she won’t sleep with him. Who wouldn’t want to sleep with Sean
Connery? Frigid bitch. It’s all her mom’s fault, the bible-thumping
old prostitute.”

I was uncomfortable with
the movie critique Gina was providing.

“
Can we watch something
else, please?” I asked.

“
Sure,” Gina said, picking
up the remote to resume surfing.

She finally landed on an
“I Love Lucy” marathon.

“
So,” I rolled over onto
my side, bending my arm to support my throbbing head. “How'd we
make it back here last night?”

“
You don’t
remember?”

“
Obviously not, Gina, if
I’m asking you.”

She gave out a loud hoot
of laughter. Not good for the head. “Thatch picked us
up.”

“
You called him to come
get us? Gina, you're running the staff ragged here. We can’t take
advantage of Trey’s generosity and hospitality like that!” I was
genuinely pissed. I didn’t want Trey or his staff thinking that I
was some kind of a gold-digging bitch.

“
Hold up there,
girlfriend,” she replied. “I did not call Thatcher to pick us up.
Trey did.”

“
Trey? How'd Trey know
where we were?”

“
I’m thinking that picture
of you and the twins might've tipped him off. You know the one I
accidently saved and sent, instead of just saved?”

Oh, yes. It was all coming
back to me now.

“
After you hung up on him
he evidently called Thatcher and instructed him to come and collect
us at the track. He wanted to make sure that we got home okay. He
probably could tell you were drunk on the phone.”

“
Thank you
very
much,
Gina!”

I was
so
in trouble and I knew it. I
looked over at her, trying to muster a glare. She was leaning back,
sipping her coffee as if she hadn’t a care in the world. She wasn’t
the one in trouble, I was!

“
Hey Tylar,” she said,
“Watch this.”

She took a long drag off
of her unlit cigarette and pressed her lips into a tight circle,
puckering in and out several times with her head tilted upward. She
looked over at my questioning stare.

“
Smoke rings for
Chrissake,” she said, exasperated that I'd missed something so
obvious. Just then, there was a light tap at the door.

“
Come in,” Gina
called.

Thatcher proceeded in with
a tray that he set carefully down on the nightstand on my side of
the bed.

“
Hope this will help you
feel better Ms. Preston. Please let me know if there's anything
else I can get for you.”

He is calling me Ms.
Preston again. I'm in deep, deep shit.

He looked over at Gina.
“May I get you anything, Mrs. Hatton?” he inquired. Gina gave him
her signature smile.

“
I’m good for now, Thatch.
Thanks again for all of your help last night and today.”

“
Very well, then. I’ll
come back later to pick up the tray.”

Gina got up and circled
around the bed to my side. She reached down and picked up a glass
of tomato juice that had a stalk of celery sticking out of it.
“Here,” she instructed, handing me the glass, “drink this down,
fast.”

“
What’s in it besides
tomato juice?” I asked.

“
Don’t ask,” she replied.
“Just do it.”

I did as instructed,
chugging it as quickly as I could. It didn’t taste that bad at
first, but then the after-burner kicked in. I felt the heat in the
pit of my stomach, rising up through my chest, then to my throat. I
let out the most disgusting belch that seemed to drag on for a full
10 seconds. Then it was over. My stomach felt fine, the burning had
subsided.

“
Now,” she continued,
handing me a tall glass of ice water, “take these and drink the
full glass.” She handed me a couple of ibuprofen tablets that had
been placed on the tray. I did as instructed. “Those will get rid
of the headache and the water will hydrate you.” She removed the
stainless steel domed cover revealing dry toast and assorted melon
pieces. “Eat as much as you can,” she advised.

I obliged by taking a
slice of toast, biting off a corner and chewing it. Not bad. I
forked some melon slices into my mouth, suddenly feeling better. I
guess Nurse Gina knew what she was doing after all.

“
I'll have to give
Thatcher special thanks for picking us up last night and getting us
back here safely,” I commented, chewing another chunk of honeydew
melon. Gina nodded her head.

“
Yeah,” she said, “he’s a
pretty mellow dude. He didn’t even bat any eye when you tossed all
over the backseat of his car.”

“
I did?” I wailed. Was
there no end to my agony?

“
Uh huh. It was actually
kind of humorous. You thought the window was down, so you went to
stick your head out of it to puke. You banged your head against the
closed car window, fell back onto the seat where you puked and then
laid your head in it and fell asleep.”

“
How'd I get up here?” I
asked.

“
Well, I guess Trey called
Ray too to ask him to find us at the track so that Thatch could
bring us home. So Ray ended up having to leave when he saw how
wasted we were and he followed Thatch here, helping to get us in
the house.”

“
I remember being with you
in your bathroom when you were being sick, though. Did I dream
that?”