Page 25 of The Wilder Widows

“You ladies have a nice night. I’ll meet you at nine for breakfast, and we’ll figure out how to get me up on that stage after I’ve aced this routine.”

“I’m going to play the penny slots.” Doris stood, taking her bucket with her.

“I’m going back to the table I can’t seem to lose at. Good night, Alice.” Sylvie started off.

Marge’s eyes drifted across the room and landed on the cocktail waitress still eyeing her up. “Well, go on, Marge. Go get yourself another drink and talk to the woman.”

“Are you sure? I’m not good at this like you are, Alice.”

I pressed a hand on her shoulder. “What do you have to lose, Marge? If it doesn’t work out, you’ll never see her again. And if it does, well, you can finally find out if you’re really a lesbian.”

“I’m scared, Alice.”

“You dodged bullets in Vietnam. You said you wanted excitement and adventure. That over there,” I pointed to the colorful waitress still eyeballing her, “is excitement and adventure. Get in there, soldier.”

Pursing her lips together, I watched her muster up her gumption. “Okay. I’m going in.”

“Good luck.” With one last pat on her back, I sent her off to the grinning girl waiting for her in the corner before I headed up to my room to make sure I could nail every step of that dance routine.

****

“Over here! Alice! Here!” Doris waved frantically from the corner table at the casino restaurant. I waved back and limped my way past the breakfast buffet to their table.

“Good morning, ladies.”

“Are you hurt?” Doris asked, gesturing to the awkward way I moved to get into my seat.

“It’s nothing. Just a little sore from the extra practice last night.” Sore was an understatement. Every muscle screamed at me that I was well past my dancing prime. I still trained every day, but for only an hour. It had been decades since I’d danced for six hours straight.

“Alice, you look terribly uncomfortable.” Sylvie pursed her lips.

“It’s nothing. When you’re a professional dancer, this is how you feel all the time.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but I didn’t want to let on that I’d overdone it last night while trying to perfect the routine I’d danced until four in the morning. I finished my slow sit down and waved at the waitress passing by. She acknowledged me with a nod and disappeared around the corner. I noticed the fourth seat at our table was empty. “Where’s Marge?”

Sylvie shrugged. “We haven’t seen her yet. We thought maybe she’d be down with you.”

“Oh really?” I smirked. “Did she land that waitress last night?”

“We never saw her after you went up. I have no idea,” Sylvie said.

“Oh stop!” Doris waved a hand at us. “She’s just all talk. She’s not really a...” Doris leaned in to whisper, but my scolding stare sent her back in her seat, and she finished in her normal tone. “Lesbian.”

“We don’t know if she is or isn’t, and neither does she. I’m hoping she got some answers last night.”

“Me, too,” Sylvie agreed. “She sure did look cute all flustered.”

“I’ve known Marge for three years, and I’ve never seen her blush. She was like a schoolgirl with a crush last night.” The waitress came up behind me and interrupted my chuckle.

“The buffet is help yourself, but can I get you something to drink?”

“We’ll take four screwdrivers.”

“Alice! It’s nine in the morning,” Doris scolded.

“Fine. Make them mimosas.”

The waitress gave me an appreciative smile and walked away before the ladies could argue.

“If Marge doesn’t get here soon, I’ll drink hers for her. God knows I’ll need it to help ease the muscle pain.”