Bonnie jerked a thumb to herself. “I’m Bonnie.”
“Violet,” Vi whispered, her tone uncertain.
Bonnie looked to Cal. “Shiz preddie, Joe.”
Cal wondered what Violet would do but he didn’t have to wonder long.
Though if he’d have guessed he wouldn’t in a million years have guessed she would do what she did.
She walked to his side and shoved into it with her shoulder pushing back his arm then she plastered her front to his side, sliding her hands along his body, one at his stomach, one across his back and she wrapped him tight. He didn’t know what she was saying with her action, whether it was a claiming, telling Bonnie her thoughts on the state of play with Cal, a show of support for Cal or both. At that moment either way worked for him but both was better.
Other than pushing her away, he had no choice but to drape his arm around her shoulders which was what he did.
Bonnie’s upper body swayed back as she took them in.
Then her eyes drifted up to Cal’s and her face was disbelieving when she asked, “She yours?”
Bonnie’s tone was now not only drunken but surprised, her face twisted with hurt and uncertainty. Even after all these years, this was a blow to her. Cal saw to his pissed off amazement that somewhere in that fucked up head of hers, she still laid claim to him, even after what she’d done.
She’d never been to Cal’s when he’d had a woman there. But even Bonnie couldn’t be so far gone as to see all that was Vi in his tee pressed possessively against his side and not make the comparison, not see that this time it wasn’t just going to be a no because she had wasted her life away, and her body, but mostly because of their fucked up history but because she’d obviously been replaced by a far superior model. Even wasted, she couldn’t twist that messed up head of hers into thinking she could talk him into a trip down memory lane, if he paid for it of course. She had to know he’d never want her mouth on him, his dick in her, when he had Violet.
Cal didn’t answer, he was too angry and he wanted this done. Instead, he looked back down to the phonebook to find the number on the ad and he curled Vi closer.
His head came up when Bonnie suddenly declared, “Thiz iz mah house!”
Her eyes were narrowed on Vi and she’d swayed forward.
He knew this drill too, when she got pissed. He’d been living with that a long time, even before what she let what happened happen. He was reminded of the vicious, out-of-control way Bonnie could get pissed every time he looked in the mirror.
Cal gave Violet a squeeze and murmured, “Go back to bed, buddy.”
Before Vi could move, Bonnie lurched forward, shouting, “Mah house!”
Then she lost her footing and dropped gracelessly down to her hands and knees on the kitchen floor.
Violet’s body jolted at his side and she stepped back, swinging Cal’s torso with her in what seemed to be an effort to move him to safety but only his torso went because his feet stayed planted. He’d seen this all before.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his eyes on Bonnie.
“Joe –” Violet whispered and he knew she was watching Bonnie too.
“Mah house!” Bonnie screeched, her head snapping back, her lank hair drifting. “Mah man!”
Cal hit the buttons on the phone to call the taxi.
Bonnie crawled toward them and lifted a hand when she got close. Cal moved Violet behind him, dropping his arm and stepped into Bonnie as she took a clumsy swipe at their legs and missed.
He put the phone to his ear.
“Shouldn’t we get her up?” Violet whispered, her hands on his lower back, fingers curling into the waistband of his jeans. She was so close he could feel her tits in his tee brushing against his skin.
“Yeah, I need a taxi, one one eight Elm. Pre-paid, it’s goin’ to Indy,” Cal said into the phone after the dispatcher answered.
“Joe –” Violet whispered, pressing closer.
Bonnie lifted up to her knees, still swaying, her eyes slits and they were on Vi. “You thin’ your shid doan stink.”
“Soon’s you can get here,” Cal said into the phone.
“We should help her,” Violet said at his back.
“Id stinks jus’ like mine!” Bonnie declared.
“Give me a second,” Cal told the dispatcher and turned to Violet. “Go get my wallet on the nightstand. I need my credit card.”
She looked up at him and opened her mouth to speak.
“Do it, buddy,” he ordered gently.
She closed her mouth, nodded, glanced down at Bonnie and then rushed out of the room.
“Id stinks!” Bonnie shouted after her, reeling to the side and down on a hand.
“Christ, Bonnie, shut it,” Cal clipped.
Bonnie turned to glare at him and came back up to her knees, throwing out a hand to grab onto the counter and pull herself up.
While she did this, she asked, “Whas she doin’ in mah house?”
Cal didn’t reply.
With a fair amount of effort, Bonnie got to her feet and repeated louder, “Whas she doin’ in mah house?”
Violet rushed back, she had his wallet in her hand and he took it from her then he used his arm to sweep her behind him again. She moved back into position, close to his back, fingers curled into his jeans.
Bonnie glared over his shoulder at Violet as Cal read out his credit card number, confirmed the address then hit the button to turn off the phone.
The second he threw it on the counter, Bonnie snapped at him, “Ahy come home, shiz in mah house.”
Cal was losing it, even if Vi went to the bedroom she could still hear, the walls were thin and she’d already seen the worst of it just catching sight of his ex-wife much less Bonnie crashing drunkenly to the floor. He was done with her shit, totally over it. He had been for nearly two decades.
Therefore, he didn’t guard his response from Violet when he reminded Bonnie, “Woman, this hasn’t been your house for seventeen years.”
“Mah house!” Bonnie declared, her eyes shifting drunkenly to Violet and focusing. “Joe’s mah man.”
“Maybe we should get her some coffee,” Violet whispered her suggestion in his ear.
“Doan whan coffee. Whan you out!” Bonnie yelled.
“You don’t get to say who stays and who goes in this house,” Cal told Bonnie and her torso pitched as she focused on him. She blinked, confusion hitting her face then her torso pitched again and she got down to the matter at hand, the reason she was there, the only reason she ever came.
“You gonna gimme money or wha’?”
“Do I ever give you money?” Cal asked and the answer was no, he never did, not once, not even in the beginning. No, especially not in the beginning.
“Need money,” Bonnie answered.
“Yeah, I know, know why you need it too. Don’t work hard so I can piss my money away on that shit.”
“Need money,” she mumbled.
“Find it somewhere else, woman, this is the last time I open the door for you. Next time you show, I’m callin’ the cops and they can deal with you.”
Her torso swung back and her hand came up, her head shaking.
“Joe, cops, no.”
“I’m not jokin’.”
She leaned in and had to put her hand flat on the counter to hold herself up. “Wanna come home.”
“Don’t know where that is but I know it isn’t here.”
She blinked slowly and her head drifted to the side, her face going slack then filling with something else Cal was familiar with and he knew they were moving to the next part of the scene, the part he hated the most.
She whispered to the counter, “Was only ‘appy ‘ere wid you.”
Cal was again surprised when that pain didn’t come like it always did every time she got to this.
He’d never in the past responded. This time, he did.
“Then you shouldn’t have fucked it up.”