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“Why’s your go to answer, ‘no’? You saynobeforeyesto everything.”
“I don’t,” Gia looked ahead at the stage. Same black sheets acting as curtains. Same purple downlighting. “Vogue” played on the sound system and a disco ball glittered overhead.
“You do.”
“So?”
“So, you need to live a little,chica.Next weekend, we’re going to L.A. I’ll drive. Put your schedule request in tonight.”
“You don’t have a car.”
Gia had her. Roxi didn’t have a car. She rode an old yellow Schwinn to and from the bus barn every morning and afternoon and drove a school bus all day. Palm Springs made this routine possible, with its eternal dry weather, and Gia had noted more than once, it delivered in the form of smoking hot calves—Roxi came by her legs honestly.
Gia’s shoulder advisors weighed in, the devil encouraging a getaway, “what could it hurt?” and the angel offering nothing but caution, “road trips lead to intimacy.” Gia batted them both back. A change of scenery would be nice. It had been all desert and sagebrush for nearly four months. A little ocean air would do her good. And what was more intimate than living with someone? They’d seen each other in their most authentic lights plenty. Certainly, a couple nights on Roxi’s cousin’s couch wouldn’t create a romantic mood. But Los Angeles was full of all the things she was set on avoiding. Easy access to excess.
“I can drive yours.”
“Don’t think it’ll make it. I need a new water pump and the engine’s leaking oil. I’ve been saving to fix it.”
“I’ll borrow Savannah’s truck.” Roxi pressed, as Roxi was wont to do.
“You’re talking?” Gia looked to her right and found the espresso-colored eyes that made her heart beat faster and told herself she didn’t care what the answer was.
“Sí.”
“Since when?” Gia blurted. So, she cared—a little. “I mean, is that what you want?”
“A few days ago. And I guess. She called me to apologize—said she feels horrible. I still have stuff there, so—”
Why was Gia rooting against them talking? People had exes. It was possible to maintain relationships with those you’d been more-than-friends with. Not that she had firsthand experience in this art, but it was possible. “That’s the least she could—”
Before Gia finished her thought, drag King Dusty was strutting around the stage with the confidence of a runway model, his raspy voice booming through the sound system.
“Good evening, fellow Palmeranians! So good to see you here tonight! And what a night it’s going to be! I’m pleased to introduce our guest King, Chip Block, but before I do, let me remind you the rules of our little show.”
Dusty walked through the crowd as he reminded them that cash was king of the Kings, dollars were appreciated but fives were adored, no touching the talent—but feel free to go home and touch yourselves and your partners. “And, most important, remember to have fun. We’re serious about performing but not serious. This is entertainment, people! It’s okay to hoot and holler and enjoy yourselves. The more noise, the better we are! And without further ado, heeerrreee’s Chip!”
“Well, hello, Palm Springs!” Chip roared onto stage in a three-piece tuxedo to “Sledgehammer,” silver cufflinks shimmering in the intensity of a single spotlight. “I’m so glad to be here and share this Tuesday evening with you. There was a time in my life I dreaded Tuesdays. Tuesdays have a bad rap, don’t they? We agree to hate Monday, rejoice in Wednesday, and worship Friday. But Tuesday—it’s got nothin’. So, that’s why I love performing on Tuesdays—to give it a littlesomethin’!If you’ll let me, I’d like to be your sledgehammer tonight.”
“Is this a drag show or a Chippendale’s performance?” Gia whispered into Roxi’s ear and caught a whiff of raspberry. They were standing so close that their bodies touched, bare shoulder against bare shoulder. It would be so easy to kiss her right there, to give in to the sweetness. In the past, a kiss in a bar was nothing. It meant she’d had a little, let her inhibitions down, and followed the lead of her animal instincts.
“Maybe both?” Roxi shrugged, shoulder rubbing against Gia’s.
Chip answered the question without being asked—he danced around the small stage as if he were Magic Mike to “Feels like the First Time,” and ripped his suit jacket off, revealing a white undershirt and black suspenders. The crowd hooted and hollered as instructed, and Chip was in the aisles raking in the fives faster than his clothes came off.
“So ya know,” Chip said as he bounced back onto the stage. “My middle name is ‘Offthe.’ It was my dad’s idea, ‘cause of course, he thinks I’m a spittin’ image of ‘im. I don’t know, though. I mean—” Chip flexed baseball-sized biceps, “I don’t think I am. It takes more than just a gene pool to get this body, right? But far be it from me to say whatyouthink. Whaddaya say? Should we bring my daddy out here?”
“What the hell?” Gia gasped, hand finding mouth in an instant while Roxi smiled knowingly amid the darkness.
“Dad, come on out!” Chip raised his hands above his head, encouraging applause. “Don’t be shy, pop. They want to see if I’m really yours, or if we need to order that paternity test.”
“Okay, this is getting—oh my God!” Gia said, along with more than half the room. “They look exactly alike!”
On stage stood an older King dressed in black slacks, a white undershirt, and black suspenders. Was he old enough to be Chip’s parent? Inconclusive. But they looked the part. Same coifed sienna-colored hair, same thin lips, same right-cheek dimple.
“Hey, son, I thought we talked about this—you’re not supposed to be working late on school nights,” the elder Block led them into a banter that involved sharing their family secrets, how they didn’t know who Chip’s mother was, and that they needed to hurry home to feed their sixteen cats. Why sixteen? Because the house felt lonely with only fifteen.
They understood their crowd and were milking it. For a while, Gia forgot about her mama drama, Roxi’s road trip request, the climbing team—everything. She was in the moment, a moment where it was okay to laugh and cajole and pretend to live in a world where a father/son were drag King strippers that poked fun at their family dynamic.
