Lori Avocato - Nip, Tuck, Dead

Mother managed to open the door and say, “Thank goodness you two are here. Of course, you’ll both have to stay here to help out. Elderly can do just so much for themselves. Correct?”

Obviously Jagger was holding back a grin while managing, “Correct, Mrs. Sokol,” as he walked into the house and finished with, “and pink goes wonderfully with your outfit.”

I think I groaned since Mother gave me a chastising look, but I know I rolled my eyes. She had on a brown, yellow and white plaid housedress that pink did not go with.

Mr. Jagger had something up his mysterious sleeve. I just knew it.

After I made fried bologna and bacon sandwiches on rye bread-Daddy’s favorite-I made Jagger help clean up. He protested once in the kitchen, but I gave him a look that I thought was close enough to what Stella Sokol would give me if I had been complaining.

Then I dried my hands on the aquamarine towel that hung on the duck’s head near the sink and said, “I think they can all get along for a while. I’m going to check on Spanky and then head over to-”

“I’ll drive you.”

Damn. I had no car, and he’d figured it out just as I had. “Yeah. To the office. I’m going to talk to Adele.”

He merely nodded, and before I knew it we were in the car driving away from hell at 171 David Drive-but knowing I had to come back and make roast pork since it was Thursday and Mother always made it on every Thursday of the week.

I kinda hoped that Jagger would just drop me off and I’d have some free time with Spanky. But he shut the engine off and was at the front door before I was.

“You know, Jagger, I hate that you had to leave your R and R to bring me back here. Wait. I know. I can use my uncle’s car and you can go do…whatever it is you do around here until Sunday night. Then we can drive back to Newport together. So, I’ll see you-”

I’d come up behind him as I was talking, took out my key and had it in the lock before I finished.

Jagger walked right inside.

I hesitated and watched my darling Spanky bark and run up to-Jagger!

The little traitor!

He’d done that before and it didn’t hurt any less right now. How I wished I was back doing my job.

My job. I had to call Adele. Ignoring the two males, I walked inside, shut the door and went to the stairs. Over my shoulder I said, “I’m going to make a few phone calls. You two enjoy.” I tried to have the tone come out very nonchalant, but instead it came out schoolgirl jealous-and by the look on one of the male’s faces, he knew exactly how I felt.

Damn him.

I hurried up the steps and opened the door to my room-and froze. I hadn’t been gone that long, but my room looked different. Not that I could put my finger on what it was, but there was something…the drapes were pulled farther back than I liked them. The bedspread was pulled so taut I knew a coin would bounce to the ceiling fan. And there were no little Spanky indentations on the bed.

He hadn’t been in my room while I was gone.

Odd. Miles would never had even entered my room. That much I was certain about. Then what the heck had happened? Surely I wasn’t imagining all that? I walked to the closet, opened the door and puffed out a breath.

Pine-scented Renuzit.

Stella Sokol had invaded my space!

I just knew Mother had been there and was trying to “help” me out in some Polish matronly farfetched way. Before I could call her to yell she had no business being in there (not that I would since she was wounded), I started to yank open all my dresser drawers.

Organized to within a thread of color.

All my socks. All my nighties. All my…shit!

As if in slow motion I reached into my “essentials” drawer and touched what I knew were not mine-which was everything.

Thongs.

Black on black lacy ones. Red with pink dog ones. And some kind of blue fishnet with black lace trim.

Invader of Victoria’s Secret. Stella Sokol. Yikes.

My hands started to shake as I jabbed at the new bras Mother had purchased for her thirtysomething, single, childless daughter. Purple satin glared at me. I poked at the fabric to feel something soft inside. Gel. My mother had gotten me a gel cleavage-enhancing bra with naughty black trim, and next to it were matching panties-or what tried to be panties but ended up as some kind of V-string thingies.

I lifted them in the air and blew out a breath.

“That’d be my reaction too.”

I swung around to see Jagger standing in the doorway, grinning and staring. I threw the lingerie down into the drawer where it belonged.

Jagger had no idea that this was all my mother’s doing! What the hell did he think I was doing with the purple satin devil’s design underwear?

Stella Sokol never ceased to amaze or embarrass me-even if she wasn’t physically present.

Jagger whistled-and not even under his breath.

“These aren’t mine. They, well, yes they are in my drawer…but still that doesn’t mean. I don’t wear…nor would I be caught. Look, I know how they got here. My-” What the hell was I explaining any of this to Jagger for? Or make that trying to explain to him. I didn’t owe him any explanations for anything-even sexy lingerie.

Besides, he’d never believe that Stella Sokol sabotaged her single-make that never married-childless daughter like that.

I could hardly believe it.

With my hip, I shoved the drawer closed and walked to the door, being very careful not to even brush against any part of Jagger while I headed past him. Over my shoulder I said, “I have to go make dinner for my family.”

My legs barely got me down the stairs as my knees kept trying to buckle under the embarrassing scene I’d just lived through. But I knew if I even acknowledged it to Jagger, I’d be a goner.

He followed me downstairs, gave a quick hug to Spanky, and we were out the door in silence-thank the good Lord-and soon on the way to 171 David Drive.

And I thought the lingerie thing was a nightmare.

“I salted the pork just like you said, Mother,” I repeated as I rolled my eyes. If she told me one more thing about how to cook a meal, I might not be responsible for my actions.

She leaned over the aquamarine Formica counter. “More pepper.”

My teeth clamped down inside my lips so nothing could come out. I grabbed the pepper shaker and shook until the damn pork was speckled in so much black and gray that it was unrecognizable.

Jagger had the audacity to sit next to my mother, take a sip of his Budweiser and grin.

I shook the pepper shaker in the air above the pan and blew a bit in his direction.

Once he started sneezing, I felt much better.

Finally my mother gave me the okay to set the table while potatoes boiled, pork roasted, and corn sat at the ready to be heated. How I wanted to corner her and get the naughty lingerie truth out of her, but she made herself look so pathetic sitting on the counter stools next to Jagger, sipping her cream sherry while he helped her get comfortable with the pink cast.

Geez.

I shook my head and politely excused myself before I exploded. When I went into the living room to find my purse, I smiled at a sleeping Uncle Walt on the couch and my father reading the newspaper (for the past three hours I might add) as if the most exciting things had happened around Hope Valley that day.

“Hey, Daddy.” I reached into my bag and got out my cell phone. From the corner of my eye I could see Jagger laughing with Stella Sokol and decided I had to do something.

Daddy muttered a few unintelligible words.

Uncle Walt snored, and I hurried down the hallway, opening the bathroom door and ducking inside. There on the back of the commode was what I needed.