No Return

sort of thirty-three-year-old mamma’s boy, or maybe think it was too soon for him to say something to his mom, or, worst of all, realize that he was more serious about her than she was ever going to be about him?

Finally, he couldn’t help himself and took a quick peek at her.

She was still staring at him, but not in the get-me-out-of-this-car kind of way he’d almost been expecting. She was smiling.

“What?” he asked.

She swiveled around so she was facing front again, then she put her arm on the back of his seat and began softly stroking his neck.

“I told my mom, too.”

13

They all ended up at Delta Sierra’s again that evening. This time, to the surprise of everyone, Monroe joined them.

“I’m still trying to figure out how the hell you ever lived here,” Danny said, already working on his third beer. “I’ve never seen so much dirt in my life.”

“I’m not quite sure how they did it in your family, Danny, but in mine, where I lived was, strangely, determined by my parents.” Wes smirked.

“I thought you were from San Diego,” Tony said.

“He moved to San Diego when he was a junior in high school,” Alison informed everyone.

“Why?” Danny asked. “Your dad get transferred?”

“Divorce,” Wes said before Alison could show off more of her knowledge of his life.

There were nods around the table, several in the knowing fashion of those who’d lived through the same thing.

“Any family still here?” Tony asked.

Wes shook his head but didn’t elaborate. His dad had stayed in Ridgecrest, but had died a year and a half after Wes had left town. The funeral had been held in Whittier, east of Los Angeles, where Wes’s dad had grown up and his uncle still lived.

More pitchers of beer arrived, and the focus moved from Wes to Dione to Danny, and, inevitably, to Monroe.

“I know I’m not supposed to talk about it, but,” Monroe said, the glaze of alcohol in her eyes, “my agent thinks I have the inside shot at a pilot for ABC.”

“Really? That’s great,” Dione said. “What’s it about?”

Monroe looked around the table. “You’ve got to keep this to yourself.”

“Of course,” Dione spoke for the group.

“It’s an update of Mork and Mindy.”

Danny nearly spit his beer across the table. “Mork and Mindy? Are you serious?”

“Why? What’s wrong with that?”

“Who’s going to play Mork?” Danny asked.

“See, that’s the twist. In the remake … Mork’s a woman!”

Everyone stared at her.

“So are you saying you’re going to play Mork?” Anna asked slowly.

“Well, the character’s name is different, of course. I’m not allowed to tell anyone that. But, yeah. That’s the part I’m up for.”

The silence that followed had almost reached the awkward point when Dione said, “Couldn’t be happier for you, Monroe.” Even halfway to drunk, she was able to fake it for the show’s host.

Monroe beamed.

“We should celebrate,” Dione suggested.

A devilish looked entered Monroe’s eyes. “Tequila shots! A hundred bucks to whoever drinks the most.”

There were groans and averted gazes around the table. All, that is, except for Dione. Her eyes narrowed as she announced, “You’re on, Morkette. Tony, get the waitress.”

Six shots arrived a few minutes later and the two women matched each other glass for glass.

As they were waiting for another round, Wes stood up and headed to the men’s room. The bar had filled up a bit more, so he had to navigate around several groups before he entered the hallway that led to the restrooms.

“How do you think you get up there?”

Wes looked back. He hadn’t realized Danny had followed him. “Up where?”

“On the wall. The pictures of the planes and the crews. Think you have to be regulars here?” Danny opened the bathroom door and let Wes pass through. “You know, like the shamrocks at Tom Bergin’s back home on Fairfax. Or do you have to do something special?”

“I have no idea.”

Danny finished first, washed his hands, then headed for the door. “You coming?”

“Go ahead,” Wes said. “I’ll be right there.”

Wes stared into the mirror as he finished washing up. The photos. What if the pilot he’d seen at the crash was in one of them? If he was, Wes could show the picture to Lars as proof that he hadn’t been seeing things.

He exited the bathroom with purpose, intent on closely examining the walls, but was immediately derailed when he found Anna standing in the hallway outside the women’s bathroom. She started shaking her head the moment she saw him.

“Where’s the paparazzi when you need them?” she asked.

“What’s going on?”

She motioned toward the bathroom door. “Monroe is doing a little unintentional weight reduction.”

“Oh, God.”

There was a muffled retch from beyond the door, followed by, “Don’t worry. You’re not going to fall in.”

“Dione?” Wes asked.

Anna nodded. “Best-friend duty. Though she’s not that much better off herself. Help me take them back to the hotel?”

“Sure.”

A few minutes later the door opened and Monroe and Dione staggered into the hallway, but not before bumping into the door frame and breaking out in laughter.

“Hey, Wes,” Dione said.

“Wes!” Monroe echoed, none the worse for her time hovering above the toilet.

“Hey, I have an idea,” Wes said. “We’re going to head back to the motel. You want to come with us?”

Monroe shook her head. “Too early. I want to-” She stumbled against the wall, then closed her eyes and put her hand on her forehead. “Uh, yeah. Okay. Maybe that would be a good idea.”

It turned out that everyone except Danny was ready to head back.

Wes took control of Monroe, while Anna and Alison acted as Dione’s guides. By the time they reached Monroe’s room, she was telling Wes what a great guy he was, how cute he was in that older, mid-thirties kind of way, and outright offering him a spot in her bed that night.

Wes politely declined, then waited outside as Anna and Alison dealt with getting Close to Home’s star under the covers. Dione had waited with him for a few minutes, trying not to sway, then wandered off to her own room before the other two women came back out.

“Well, that was fun, wasn’t it?” Alison said, then yawned.

“Don’t do that,” Anna said. She tried unsuccessfully to keep from yawning herself. “Fine. I’m officially tired.”