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Blue Moon 8.5

by Donna Lamb

"Where to, Boss Lady?" Richard asked when they were finally alone together in the Mustang.

"I w-want to go home, to M-melody's house and find out what this agent is about."

"Sounds good. Did you watch how your mom avoided meeting old man-mountain? That was a bit odd."

"Yeah," said Jo. "M-mom wasn't exactly acting like herself in other w-ways, either."

Richard considered this while wheeling out of the park and back onto Glenoaks. "Maybe, well, she's probably treating you a bit different because you're her daughter now. Parents tend to be more protective of daughters."

"Trust m-me, that's not it," said Jo.

Richard laughed though he couldn't have said why, just something in the way Jo had said that.

Startled, Jo smiled. She decided she liked to hear Richard laugh. "And I still want a shower, I wonder if I'm going to need lessons...." Jo trailed off, realizing she was being ogled by two boys in a junky old TransAm pacing the Mustang.

Richard's mind was occupied with wondering what sort of lessons Jo might need in the shower when his cellphone went off. "Uh, hello?" he answered using the handsfree.

"Richard?" said a breathy voice.

"Uh, Zoe?"

"Uh, huh. I called and they said at Paramount that you were off tonight, so is our date on?" The breathiness turned into an interrogatory whimper at the end of that.

"Uh, they got it wrong, Z. I'm working a private driving job tonight, all weekend really."

"Bastard," said the voice without heat. Jo stared at the speaker, Richard glanced over at her and shrugged. The voice continued. "Listen Dickipoo, I'm so hot needing you that I'm using my vibrator at noon."

Which explains the buzzing in the background, thought Jo. Something about the noise set up an uncomfortable internal itch for Jo, too. She squirmed in the seat a bit. The forgotten boys in the TransAm noticed.

"Uh, not now, Zoe. Boss in the car, bye." Richard closed the connection and flipped the switch to turn the phone link off. "Sorry about that, Jo. Just an ex-girlfriend who -- who can't seem to get the idea that it's over." As of now, Richard added mentally.

They pulled to a stop at a light and someone honked a horn. They both looked right to see the boys in the TransAm waving their arms at Jo. The driver had the windows down and shouted, "Hey, Babe-a-tricity! What's my number?"

Jo frowned, turning to Richard. "How the heck w-would I know his number?"

Richard scowled then made a sudden abrupt and illegal left turn against the light onto Olive. How the heck do I explain that he's asking how far back he is in the line? "Morons," he said out loud. That'll do. A speeding Beemer honked at them as they cleared the intersection and Jo squeaked in surprise. God, I love it when she makes that noise.

The sudden evasive action distracted Jo from requesting more explanation. She had another problem to think about. How do I ask him to spend the night? And if I do ask him what is he gonna think? Well, I know what he's going to think but how do I handle that? No, that's not what I meant! she told her unruly imagination.

Richard looked for potholes so he could take sudden evasive action again. Damn Burbank Streets and Structures Department, why couldn't this be West Hollywood where they have potholes with submarines in the bottom? I wonder if I can invite myself to stay the night?

The cellphone rang again. Richard answered without thinking about it. "Hello?" he said then stared at the switch he knew he'd flicked to off just moments ago.

"Oh, Dickenstein, are you hard for me? I'm so wet for you?" Richard hit the off switch on the phone without even hanging up. "Heh? Heh? I wonder who that was?" he said to Jo with a sickly grin.

"Sounded like B-bridget," said Jo. "You know, the little b-blonde with the p-plastic knockers and the rose tattoo on her b-b-b-ass?" Jo picked up the phone, disconnected the handsfree speaker and removed the battery.

"Good thinking," said Richard. "I don't know how it got turned on again."

"Seems like things do get turned on around you, b-by accident?" Jo smiled and threw the battery out the window.

"Hey!"

"I'll b-buy you a new one," said Jo. "I can afford it, but if you got one m-more call from a b-bimbo ex-girlfriend this w-weekend on my time, I'd have to f-f-f-f-can you." She gave him a stern look.

He laughed. "Okay, okay. But how'd you know she had a rose tattoo?"

"Like either of you w-wore any clothes at all that w-weekend? She streaked m-me in my room twice." Jo frowned. "Are all of your girlfriends so...unh? Slutty?"

Richard shrugged. "Saves time," he said. Then he winked at her and showed his dimples.

Jo blushed and giggled. How did he do that? she asked herself, realizing that she had just forgiven him for being a Dick -- again. I'm gonna have to watch that. She sighed. "Oh, Dickorama, what am I gonna do w-with you?"

"I've got some ideas."

"I b-bet."

He turned on Sunset and made the immediate quick turn onto Via Buena Vista, provoking another squeak from Jo. He grinned.

"You did that deliberately!"

"And people say blondes are slow on the uptake." He laughed.

"This is a w-wig! I'm a redhead." But she laughed too.

"Not hardly, strawberry blonde at most."

"It's more ginger!"

With another sudden turn, and another squeak from Jo, he turned into the Thierry driveway, down the lane and parked it on the apron in front of the garage. "So, are you more Ginger? Or more Mary Ann?"

She grinned at him. "I don't know, yet, Gilligan."

They sat for a moment, looking at each other, neither making a move to open a door.

"Are we..." Richard began.

"I w-w-want..." Jo started.

"You first," said Richard.

Jo took a deep breath.