AllFreeNovel
Share Us
While Olivia tried to process the words, Deacon headed for the balcony doors. His “Holy shit” had her hurrying after him. When she got outside, she saw what had caused his disbelief. Babette dangled from the roof by a rope of daisy-chained thong underwear. It looked like she had tried to fashion a noose, but instead of putting the lime-green thong around her neck, she’d put it around her waist. Which was par for the course with the dramatic woman.
“My life is over,” she wailed. “I don’t deserve to live. Not when no man will ever wear my creations.”
Deacon looked at Olivia. “You want me to get her or let her swing for a while?”
After all the trouble Babette had put her through, Olivia really wanted to let her swing. But the sound of ripping stitches changed her mind.
“Go get her, please.”
While Deacon headed for the stairs that led to the roof, Olivia leaned over the railing. “Hang on, Babette. Help is on the way.”
“I don’t want help. I don’t want to live.” A loud tearing sound finally got Babette’s attention. “What was that?” She looked up. “Zee material is tearing? Help! Help me! Please, someone help me!” Deacon appeared, and within seconds Babette was in his arms, sobbing a mixture of French and English.
“So is your houseguest trippin’, Britney?”
Olivia glanced at the house next door and saw Mr. Huckabee standing on the balcony wearing nothing but gardening gloves. Mrs. Huckabee stood next to him, sporting a wide-brimmed visor. She jabbed her husband with her elbow, causing her unfettered breasts to swing.
“It’s Olivia, Hammond.” She looked at Olivia. “So what’s she on, dear? LSD? Quaaludes? Magic brownies?”
Olivia tried to keep her eyes off the Huckabees’ dangling parts. “Actually she’s just a little overdramatic. But thank you so much for alerting us.” She paused. “And for the pot of beautiful geraniums by the front door.”
“I didn’t give you geraniums.” Doris looked at her husband. “Did you, Hammond?”
“No. Maybe her cousin did. He seems like a helpful fellow.” He directed his next comment at Olivia. “I hope you don’t sell your house to old farts who have a problem with loud rock and roll. It would be nice to have a couple living next door who are up for a little swinging.”
The mental picture that popped into Olivia’s head had her cringing. “I’ll try to keep that in mind,” she said. “Well, thanks again. Now I better get inside and check on Babette.” She turned for the door only to stop when she saw Jonathan Livingston standing on the back of her chair.
“Scat!” She flung out her arms, but this time the bird didn’t take flight. Instead he hopped to the table and picked up a flaxseed tortilla chip and ate it whole. And since Olivia had lost all control over her life, she let him.
