The following is another excerpt from my work in progress, The Throuple Private Eye—Business is Booming, a Jen McDowell Series. This is the second draft. I’m at 40k words now. If you want to catch up, order the novella The Throuple Private Eye—Hate Crimes, on Amazon ($2.99). The link is https://www.amazon.com/dp/B084LTTHGN. Enjoy
On Friday, Jen and Molly worked all day inside their office, doing research on their computers.
Finally, late in the afternoon, Molly stood up and said, “Let’s go out. We need to unwind.”
Jen looked up. “Okay, I’ll see if the boys want to come.”
“No,” Molly said. “Girls night out. Just you and me.”
“And do what?” Jen asked.
“Well, it’s Friday. My VFW post has an all you can eat fish fry every Friday and also a country band. For an extra $2 you can add shrimp.”
“I don’t know,” Jen replied. “Do you want tom hang out with a bunch of old folks?”
“Wait a minute,” Molly cautioned. “I hang out there. On Fridays, the older vets come for the fish. The young vets come for the band and to dance. Besides, most of the fish is take out.”
“How do they have a dance during the pandemic?” Jen asked.
“Well, they can only allow a certain number of guests inside, something like 25 or 50 percent,” Molly answered. “Then in a large room they placed marks six feet apart in rows. They only allow line dancing, and everyone stays follows social distancing and wears masks.”
“I haven’t tried dancing in my prothesis yet,” Jen said. “I don’t know if I can.”
“We don’t have to dance,” Molly suggested. “We can listen to the music and drink beer. Besides, we can watch some of those young guys dance. Some of them are hot.”
Jen finally relented and volunteered to drive. Jen decided that Molly was right; some of the guys were hot, the band was good, and the beer was cold. The fish was white fish, bit there was plenty of it. After an hour, a guy walked over to Molly. “Hello, my name is Marty Hennessey. Would you like to dance?” he asked through his facemask.
Molly shook her and pulled up her pant legs to reveal her two protheses. Marty pulled up his to reveal a major protheses on his left leg, extending down from just below his hip.
“Okay,” Molly conceded. “You got me beat, but I haven’t danced since I got these.”
“No problem,” Marty answered. “I’ll show you how.”
“No, no, no,” protested Molly. “I don’t think so.”
Marty bend down and leaned on the table. “What was your rank when you got discharged from the military?”
Molly was taken back by the question. “I was a staff sergeant.”
Marty straightened up. “Well, I was a captain and I’m giving you a direct order to get your ass out on the dance floor, sergeant.” Reluctantly, Molly stood up. Marty half led and half pulled Molly to the dance floor. All the dances were line dances, and Molly struggled to keep up. She did stubble a couple of times, but Marty caught her. Jen was certain the last fall was fake. Marty stood behind Molly and held her waist to steady her. Molly moved his arms tighter around her. After a few minutes, Molly mastered the steps without falling. No one objected to them not social distancing since several other couples did the same.
As the next line dance started, Molly and Marty walked and pulled a protesting Jen onto the dance floor. Molly stood on one side holding Jen’s hand while Marty held her other hand. It was awkward at first, but soon Jen was keeping up without falling. Once she got the hang of it, she resumed social distancing. After a few dances, Jen headed back to her table, turning down a couple of offers to dance on the way.
When the band took a break, Molly walked over to Jen. “Don’t worry about driving me home. Marty said he’d give me a ride.” She winked at Jen. “I might go over to his place for a nightcap.”
Jen sternly asked, “Molly do your panties fall off every time you meet a good-looking guy?”
Molly smiled. “What panties?”
Jen laughed. “Sorry, for a minute I forgot who I was talking to. Okay, but send me a text or call so I’ll know where to go to claim the body.”
Marty walked over with another young man. “Ladies, this Navada Lucas, my best friend. He still has both legs, but he’s okay.” Marty made introductions all around. Jen took an instant liking to Navada. She could tell he had a sense of humor. He had drawn a set of lips on his facemask, but they were a woman’s lips—bright red. The four of them danced a few more times.
Finally, Jen said, “Folks, I’m not use to this, and my legs are killing me, so I need to sit down.”