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ALEXIS, AKA THE FANCY LADY WITH HER HOTEL SEX
I should be nervoussharing a bed all night with a large man. But I choose to be cool with it. I ought to feel weirdly out of my element. But I choose to embrace the change. Mind over matter, positive thinking, glass half full, Kumbaya.
My only hiccup was figuring out what West wanted. He’s forever pushy and expects me to bend to his ego like everyone else does. But he also claims to like it when I’m my independent-gal self. So which way should I handle West when he pushes for something I don’t want?
As usual, the answer is easy. I just change what I want to what he wants. Miraculously, we’ll suddenly want the same thing!
So, now I like his endless compliments. They don’t make me feel like a kid getting a gold star for simply showing up. I’m a fan of constant praise!
After all, according to Gary, all problems can be broken down into two categories.
“Poverty is a problem you can’t fix,” he explained to me on several occasions. “Unless you’re the best damn con man going or the most desirable gold digger, you just ain’t fixing being poor. Well, I suppose you could be really smart or have a special skill. But who the hell can claim such a thing?”
Actually, our neighbor believed her five-year-old son would be the next country music sensation because he could yodel. Another neighbor thought her daughter might become the next Honey Boo Boo despite them not having enough money to do pageants. Based on those examples, most people claiming special skills are delusional.
“But you can change your mood,” Gary would claim during a commercial break. “You can pretend to be happy with whatever you have so you never feel screwed over by life. Now, many people will tell you that church will fill that hole inside you. They’re just ripping off what I’m saying. It’s all fairytales to get through life. If you pray to God at church, you feel better. If you wake up believing a mini bag of Doritos is your favorite snack, that’s a dream you can make come true. Either way, you think something big happened when it really didn’t. It’s all mind over matter, Alexis.”
And that’s what I’ll do with West’s family. They might act like they don’t like me. They’ll probably claim I’m garbage. The Toomey family has a bad reputation, and the Mercers—and assorted other homestead residents—are the cool kids. So, it’ll seem like I’m surrounded by an enemy who hates me.
Or I can pretend it’s just a game we’re playing!
That’s how West makes it seem, and he’s the one who wants his family to like me. I don’t care, either way. I’m more interested in West than his family.
After all, I don’t even really get along with my own family. Not that I show it. When they hassle me, I smile and start talking about something else. They claim the Fontaine part of my bloodline made me ditzy. In reality, Gary Toomey was the one who taught me to never let people control my feelings.
“I’m not nervous about meeting your family,” I tell West during our hotel “breakfast included” meal.
“Really?”
“I’m choosing to be excited about meeting your people.”
“But you’re actually nervous?” he asks, watching me with sleepy eyes.
“No, I’m choosing to feel a different way.”
“Just like that?”
“Sure. I was angry when you made fun of my family that first day. Then, I chose to forgive you. Now, we’re getting along fabulously. Choosing positive paths is the way forward.”
“You sound like a self-help book.”
Winking, I lean closer. “Actually, Shania owned many of them before her untimely demise.”
“Well, you shouldn’t worry about meeting my family,” he says, choosing to also think positive. “Even if they hate you, I don’t care. I know what I want, and she’s finally sitting next to me.”
Smiling at his certainty, I choose not to imagine a day when he’s bored of his dream girl and ditches baby Bette or Ace with me. Okay, so I did actually picture that scenario. But West is a good guy. He’ll make sure to set up his rejected baby mama and his precious redheaded offspring somewhere nice. It’ll be fine. No worries.
“You should worry,” Juno tells me as soon as I sit down on the upstairs steps with her and Zelda after West rides away. “Our mom heard from Uncle Hot Danny that your father, Cool Gary, got up to date on your new boyfriend. Now, he’s planning to hitchhike his ass down here to meet the future in-laws.”
“So, I have about a week to prepare for that.”
“Why so long?” Zelda mutters as she reads her school book on her fancy new, used tablet.
“Gary talks a lot,” I explain while fanning myself in the heat. “So, every time he stops somewhere, he’ll want to share his stories with new people who can’t escape. Waitresses, mainly.”
The sisters nod in unison while we watch a car slow down as it rolls by.
Juno explains, “People think Tripp sells weed on account of how he’s always sitting in front of his garage.”
