Daddy Dearest

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Melody

Lottie insisted that we spend all day at a beauty spa all Saturday morning and afternoon before the Homecoming dance that evening, so we went to a hot springs day spa in Corona with Violet, Nancy, Janice, and Noriko. I told Nancy she had to treat Noriko to all the spa treatments too, so she could blend in and not look like a narc.

When we got there, there was no one but mommies, daughters, sisters, and grandmothers, so it was obvious we could relax because no one was going to kidnap me. Nancy convinced Noriko to take the day off and hang out with her and Janice, while Lottie, Violet, and I went off on our own.

After sitting for thirty minutes in the hot spring and deciding that we’d tolerated enough of the rotten egg smell (it’s the sulfur in the hot spring), we went to the warm volcanic ash mud bath which is exactly what it sounds like: a waist-deep pool of mud made from volcanic ash. I guess it’s supposed to be good at drawing out the impurities of your skin as it dries or something.

Chambers would choose death over stepping into one of these things. He’s a neat freak.

Violet, Lottie, and I play swamp people until a bunch of old ladies tell us to hush up. We hushed up because we’re conditioned to obey the elderly at our school. We imagined Sister Mary Clarence in a mud bath and shrieked with laughter.

“So, have you and Chambers finally done the deed?” Violet wanted to know.

I threw mud at her face even though there was a sign that clearly stated no mud-throwing. “Dude, seriously, have you never heard of the Bechdel test? We don’t have to talk about men just because we’re two women hanging out.”

“We don’t?” Violet raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to talk about the mysterious disappearance of the Africanized honey bees or the increasing spread of top soil erosion that just gets worse every year?”

“Or the active suppression of voting rights in historically black and Hispanic, low-income strongholds,” Lottie suggested with a straight face.

“Oh, wait till you guys hear my argument on why Congress should get rid of the filibuster,” I exclaimed, rubbing my hands.

“Relax, Plum, no one cares. Save it for your friend Tessie. We just want to know if Chambers has a big schlong and if it hurt to do it.”

Violet said that a little too loudly, so a foursome of middle-aged ladies standing near us heard us and laughed.

“Oh girls, enjoy it,” one of them said. “You’re only young once. Just don’t be like this mujer over here and get pregnant at 17.” She pointed at her friend. “She’s a grandmother at forty-two.”

The gentle ribbing was followed by a burst of outraged Spanish, then laughter by all of the women.

“Eww, can you imagine if my dad was a grandpa at forty-three?” Lottie said. “Then Melody would have a crush on a grandpa.”

I could have killed her just then. I didn’t want anyone to know about my crush on Ben and even she, my best friend, didn’t know the extent of it.

She must have seen the murderous look on my face because she mouthed, “Sorry!”

“You know what? I hope your dad does become a grandpa in his early forties because you’ll get pregnant after you and Steve Mason do it tonight!” Sometimes when I’m pissed off, the awful things I think about come out of my mouth.

According to Nancy, this was a bad habit of Harry.

“Whoa, guys, cool it.” Violet stuck a time-out sign between us. “So what if Melody has a crush on your dad? So do I. Oh man, that image of your dad coming out of the pool at the Memorial Day BBQ last year at Melody’s? Uh, yeah, firmly in my spank bank.”