Easter's Lilly Read online

I opened my eyes to unfamiliar surroundings. The air had a stench of old cigarettes and stale beer. My eyes caught notice of my skirt draped over my purse on a chair, by the door. This startled me as I reached down to feel what I was wearing. I had on a pair of sweatpants, which fit me rather well and I was grateful I was still wearing the same shirt from last night. I pulled myself up a bit; just to notice the three half smoked cigarettes in the ashtray beside me on the nightstand and a bong in desperate need of cleaning next to it. There were four beer cans by the ashtray, empty and crushed in the middle. I had discovered the source of the smell. Just then I heard the door crack open and a head popped into the doorway. I was startled and jumped a little as he said, “Good, you’re awake.” He had long stringy brown hair and some facial hair on his chin that I was sure he thought was a goatee. His mustache was pencil thin and looked as though it had been painted on his face. He was wearing a hat that was worn back in the old days in gangster movies. He looked about my age, twenty-something, and was very thin. I guessed that it was his sweatpants I was wearing after I got a good look at him. “How do you feel?”

  “I’m fine,” I said. “I have a bit of a headache, though. Who are you?”

  He approached me at that point and I jerked back. He had on red sneakers and clothing that matched only to the blind. I assumed Good Will was his department store of choice. “I’m Johnny Malone,” he answered. “I already know you’re Lilly O’Hara. We met at the party last night.”

  My heart leapt into my mouth, which I was sure was filled with cotton. I was shocked and speechless. Finally after an awkward pause I managed to squeak out, “Did we…?”

  “No, no…” he answered quickly. “I’m nothing if not a gentleman.” I breathed out a sigh of relief.

  “Darla, my roommate Patrick’s girlfriend, helped you change your clothes last night.”

  But I’m in your bed, aren’t I?” I asked.

  “I slept on the couch.” He gave me a crooked smile when I said that. It was kind of charming.

  “Thank you for that.” I was so embarrassed. “Was I drugged? What am I doing here?”

  “I got a tip last night that the cops were on their way to the party. I ran out there to tell Rudy so he could flush the drugs and get everyone out of the house.” He paused. “Rudy, being Rudy, refused and is now spending a little time jail.”

  I had to think for a minute. I remembered meeting Rudy last night at the club down the hill from my house. He invited me to a party at his house. Then I remembered him inviting me into a back room. I could feel my face flush. It felt like rushing hot water. There was a mountain of white powder on the mirror in the back room. I looked at Johnny and said, “Oh my gosh, I do remember.”

  “You were the only person at the party I didn’t know, so I tried to get you out of there. You came home with me pretty easily. You were very friendly.” He smiled. “I drove your car here and you passed out in the front seat. Pat and Darla drove the other car home.” I was stunned. This was very out of character for me. I don’t do drugs, get drunk or go home with unidentified men. “We poured you into bed and let you sleep it off. You’re Mick’s daughter, right?”

  “How do you know my dad?”

  “Chief of police, right?”

  “Don’t tell me how you know. I don’t think I want to know.” I laid my head back down on the pillow.

  “It’s not like that,” he snickered. “Trust me, Mick would have been furious if he found you there.”

  “I guess I owe you an apology and a thank you,” I answered. “You’re right, my dad would’ve freaked.”

  “How about some breakfast,” he offered. “I work at the Grey Willow here in town. I’m an excellent cook.”

  “If you don’t say so yourself,” I answered. I began to find his eccentricities a little alluring.

  “Really,” he said. “I’m the assistant chef at the restaurant.”

  “Breakfast sounds great,” I answered. “I’m sold.”

  I stumbled out of bed as he left me to go cook breakfast. I found his presence oddly comforting. I made the bed, opened the door to the bedroom and looked around for the kitchen. I could smell the garlic and onions mixed with the aroma of the coffee. It drew me like a child to danger. He presented me with a cheese omelet with potatoes incomparable to anything I had ever tasted before. When it was time to go, I carried my heels and skirt and walked barefooted on his pebbled driveway to my car. All I could think about was how I was going to sneak into the house unnoticed. Fortunately my room had a back entrance and when I got home, I slipped into bed and closed my eyes. I noticed my mother’s red head look in and out of the door. I glance at the clock and it was already nine thirty in the morning.

  “I told you she was here,” I heard my mother whisper to my dad. “She must have gotten home late.”

  “She wasn’t here,” he answered.

  “How would you know?” she asked in an agitated voice. “You worked all night.”

  “That’s how I know.” I didn’t hear any more words after that.

  I was never more grateful to a stranger. I slept for another hour or so and took a shower. I couldn’t stop thinking about Johnny. From where did he get a tip about the police going to the party? Is there a leak in the police department that I needed to tell my dad about? If I did tell him, he would know where I was last night and that couldn’t happen.

  I tossed Johnny’s sweatpants in the washing machine with some of my other clothes, looking for a reason to see him again. I finished with the laundry and headed into the living room where my father was sitting. “Lilly?” he asked.

  “Yes, dad, it’s me,” I answered in dismay. I poured myself a cup of my father’s coffee and headed into the living room.

  “Let’s go outside onto the patio and enjoy the view.” I followed him outside and we sat on the very uncomfortable wicker furniture admiring the mountains. “Lilly, I worry about you.”

  “Dad, I’m fine. What are you worried about?” I answered, knowing that somehow he knew that I had spent the night at Johnny’s.

  I heard you were at the club last night. Meet anyone?”

  I paused and wondered what would be an acceptable answer. “I don’t know; a few people.”

  “Lilly, stay away from there,” he answered.

  “Why?” I asked. His face was beginning to acquire worry lines as we talked.

  “I already know you spent the night out there with Rudy and Johnny.” He got up and started to walk around the patio.

  “I’m not sure what the problem is,” I answered. I knew what the problem was but wasn’t sure what to say.

  “Did you sleep with him, Lilly?”

  “Who?” I answered back. I was having trouble swallowing at this point, terrified of being discovered.

  “Okay, let’s stop playing games.” He continued to walk around nervously. “John… did you sleep with John?”

  “No dad, I just met him.”

  “You spent the whole damn night at his house. How can you explain that?”

  “Dad, I don’t need to.” I stood up and became very defensive. “What’s wrong with you? I’m 23 years old and he’s just a guy.”

  “That’s just it, Lilly, he’s not just a guy.”

  “What are you talking about? He’s a cook at the Grey Willow.”

  “Just stay away, Lilly. Promise me…”

  “Fine. I’ll stay away.” I said it but had no intention of standing behind my words.

  “Good.” He smiled. “Have you given any thought to getting a job?” That came out of left field but I shouldn’t have been surprised. I quit college and was drifting along senselessly for quite a while. “Maybe you could try to find a new place to sing.” I spent a lot of time singing locally before we moved to Sedona, Arizona. “How about finding a job?”

  “Fine, I’ll find a job somewhere.” I got up and went back into the kitchen. I was desperate to see Johnny again and threw the sweatpants into the dryer. It was about a half-hour before they w
ere done and I folded them up and drove as fast as I could to Johnny’s house.

  When I pulled into the driveway, my heart was racing. I could feel my knees weakening, as I got closer to the door. I rang the doorbell in unexplainable anticipation. A woman with frizzy blond hair answered the door. She was wearing a bathrobe that obviously did not belong to her and she had a cigarette hanging out of her mouth. She had that “just woke up" look about her. “Yeah?” she asked. It took me a few minutes to remember how to speak. I could see Darla on the couch, so I knew this woman was not there with Pat.

  “Is Johnny home?” I asked. I was so hoping for a, “Nope, not here,” answer.

  “John!” she screamed. I began to feel like I was in the middle of a bad movie. He came to the door with a towel wrapped around his waist. I was breathless and afraid that my look of shock was not disguised very well. “Here,” I said, pushing the sweats into his stomach as I tried to make a quick, discreet getaway.

  “Wait!” he yelled to me.

  I turned and looked at him. “Thanks for your help the other night. I’m so sorry I interrupted.” I could barely feel my legs anymore as I briskly walked to my car. I could hear his low voice calling my name as I stumbled into the car and flew out of the driveway. It took me a few minutes to maintain a steady heartbeat after I got a safe distance from the house. It was at this defining moment that I realized I would have to find a life for myself that was independent of any man, and that included Johnny and my father.

  Since finding a job singing was unlikely in this tiny town, I decided to go back to my old standby: Waitressing. I drove down to the main highway and noticed a French bistro off the beaten path cradled in the red rocks. I drove down the small windy road and parked in the strangely inconvenient parking lot. As I approached the restaurant, I noticed a tall, well-built man in a tuxedo at the front door. “One for lunch?” he asked.

  “No sir,” I answered. “I was wondering if you were looking to hire a waitress.”

  He looked at me curiously. “Go ahead and ask the bartender for an application.” He was still sizing me up a bit. He was flamboyantly homosexual. “I don’t like to hire girls. Men are more professional.” He said it with a hint of superiority. I tried not to comment and headed towards the bartender. I knew at this point that my good looks were not going to get me this job. The bartender looked at me very much the same way the guy at the door did.

  What do you want?” He had a thick French accent.

  “An application please,” I answered.

  “Any experience waiting tables?” I looked behind me only to find a man in a chef’s uniform standing there. He was a very handsome man with an enticing French accent. “I said, any experience, beautiful lady?”

  “Yes,” I answered. I looked at him trying to figure out if he too, was more interested in men than women.

  He took my hand and kissed it. “Pierre.” He smiled, thinking himself to be very seductive.

  “Lilly,” I responded. “About five years.”

  “I would have guessed Marilyn.” He looked up at my face and I could see his brown eyes well with delight.

  “Marilyn?” I asked curiously. “Who’s she?”

  “You look just like Marilyn Monroe,” he answered, rather pleased with himself.

  “Sure I do.” I started to think that maybe my good looks would land me this job.

  “It appears that I have embarrassed you,” he replied. “You’re hired.” He laughed a bit. “I’m sorry, but I have to have a woman in here somewhere before I go crazy.”

  “No girls?” I looked around suspiciously.

  “No girls,” he answered with disappointment in his tone. “I have a breakfast and lunch shift open. Be here at 5:30 in the morning.”

  “Seriously?” I asked.

  “Is this going to be a problem?” He smiled a serious smile at me that was almost irresistible.

  “No, no problem.” I was very unhappy with the hours but knew at this point that I had no choice. It was important for me to establish an independent life and this was going to be the beginning.

  “5:30 then, Marilyn. Don’t be late.”