out of her trance and turned off the water.
“Keep your shirt on, Chrissie. I’ll be out in a minute,” Dolly said as she quickly toweled off, blew her hair dry, pulled on a thong and a bra, and opened the closet.
Tonight it’s black and white, she quickly decided. After she finished her makeup, she pulled on a pair of black, straightleg jeans, a long-sleeved white silk blouse with pearl buttons, a pair of wine-colored Western boots with a white filigree inlay, and a black ladies’ Stetson. Her blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders and flowed gracefully down the shimmering, delicately trimmed blouse. Dolly smiled as she checked herself in the mirror. “Yup,” she said to herself. “That works!”
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Chrissie smirked, scrolling down the webpage on Dolly’s old PC.
“Get off of there! None of your beeswax, that’s what,” Dolly said as she dove for the mouse..
“Gee, Dolly, do you have a beautiful twin you never told me about?” Chrissie, said with a laugh as she blocked the screen from Dolly’s assault. “She sure looks like you!”
“QUIT THAT!” Dolly yelled.
“I’m 5'6" with long blonde hair, ice-blue eyes....”
“You’re gonna be sorry!” Dolly shrieked as Chrissie read Dolly’s ad on the singles’ site..
Chrissie held her right arm up fending off Dolly’s attacks, while she read the personal description aloud. “I am a sweet, cheerful, and sensitive woman. I crave affection. I love kissing, hugging, and holding hands. I love walking on the beach or in the woods. I want a man who really knows the meaning of love and romance, one who can treat me with respect and kindness. A best friend and soulmate; the man of my dreams.”
“Whoo-ee!” Chrissie yelled to her fighting-mad friend. “If you find him, see if he’s got a brother for me!” With a disgusted look, Dolly gave up the chase. Chrissie leaned to the screen with her face in her palms, giggling wickedly as she continued reading aloud.
“My hobbies are reading, horses, and hockey. I love nature. Spending time with my daughter is precious to me. I love country music. I am 36, but I feel more like 21. I am in touch with my inner child. I love to do spur-of-the-moment things. I have a lot of energy when I am excited about something new. I believe in being best friends before lovers. I would love to hear from you.”
“So I made a dating profile, so what?” Dolly asked as she retreated to the bedroom to put her earrings on.
“Nothin’, Sugar. It’s a real pretty ad. I hope Prince Charming answers it. But let’s hit the road. You may find him that way – and I hope you do – but I’m putting my bet on the good ole boys at White Lightnin’.”
“Bye, Honey,” Dolly yelled through April’s door, but she got no answer. Over the last two years, Dolly had become accustomed to her daughter’s dark moods. She sighed, then turned and left with her friend.
Behind the bedroom door, April retrieved the mirror, poured a small amount of crystal methamphetamine powder onto it, and divided it into two narrow rows with a single-edged razor blade. Using a short straw, she quickly inhaled one line into her left nostril, then the other into the right. The rush of energy and pleasure started within moments, and her heavy, day-long depression lifted. Two minutes later, she heard the horn, grabbed her black leather jacket, slipped out her bedroom window, and ran out to her boyfriend’s car.
4. White Lightnin’
Myrtle Beach
The dusty parking lot was almost full as Dolly slipped her Honda into a sp ot on the side of the building, twenty yards away from the main entrance to White Lightnin’, Myrtle Beach’s favorite country-western club. She was on a manhunt and didn’t want her rusty car to spoil the manicured image her carefully chosen outfit projected. Dolly surveyed the lot like an auctioneer scanning the crowd for potential bidders. It was full of cars and pickup trucks – mostly pickups – of every description, but a Jaguar sedan, a BMW 535i, a Porsche Carrera T-top, a Lexus, and a Mercedes 450 SL convertible caught her eye. Not bad for a Friday night, Dolly thought.
Chrissie’s tastes were more domestic than import. “Hey Dolly. Check out the Silverado!” Chrissie yelled, pointing to a meticulously waxed pickup truck. “Brand new. Platinum metallic. Moon roof. Performance package. Full leather. Rosewood trim. Six-speaker Bose premium sound system. That cowboy can put his boots under my bed anytime.”
“He’s all yours, Cutie,” Dolly said. “I’ll go for Mr. Mercedes anytime.” The doorman at White Lightnin’ touched the brim of his hat in greeting. “Evenin’, Miss Dolly, Miss Chrissie. Nice to see you again.”
“Thank you, Sam,” Dolly replied. "How’s Nancy and the kids?”
“Just fine, thanks.”
She gave him a friendly once-over, from his hat to his black, Tony Lama Longhorn boots. “If the boys inside look half as good as you do, Honey, we’re gonna have a fine time tonight!”
“Don’t break too many hearts, girls,” he said, waving them in. The women walked past the blue bug zapper lights that flanked the door. A pleasant, familiar little chill ran through Dolly as she walked into to her favorite hangout. Although it was a large club, she knew most of the people there, by face, anyway. White Lightnin’ was part of a happy extended family she didn’t have outside its four walls. Here, people kept an eye out for her and made sure nothing bad happened. She belonged here. She liked the place. She could have three beers, dance three hours, and go home alone without feeling lonely. Or, if she decided to let a handsome cowboy get lucky....
“Where do we start tonight?” Chrissie asked. “The bar, the pool room, or the dance hall?”
Ahead, the bar was full of smiling faces, cowboy hats, dress jeans, and narrow-toed boots. It was already lined two deep with animated bodies who were ordering, talking, smiling, flirting, or dodging unwanted passes.
To the right in the dance hall, a hundred well-dressed urban cowboys and cowgirls – and a couple dozen rednecks from the sticks, in T-shirts and baseball caps – danced in perfect formation to a lively line dance.
To the left, a green sea of pool tables buzzed with the whispers of flirting singles and the click of pool balls on their way to their destinations. A brawl inside, which broke out when one player spent too long admiring the cleavage of another’s girlfriend, was just the normal spice in the soup of the place. The brawl was over in less than a minute, and no one paid any serious attention to the temporary distraction.
“Let’s get a beer and then check out the dance hall,” Dolly said as they walked in.
The back bar featured a large, green-and-white neon sign with a thunderbolt roaring through the bar’s name, “White Lightnin’. A brass plaque under the epoxy-covered surface of the heart pine bar marked the place of each barstool. One read, “Drink Till He’s Cute.” The next said, “I’m the guy your mother warned you about,” and another read, “I’m not as think as you drunk I am.”
“Evenin’ ladies. What’ll it be?” asked the tall, muscled bartender. On one arm, he sported a red-and-blue flag tattoo. Below the flag appeared the Marine Corps motto, “Semper Fidelis” – “always faithful.” On the other arm was a heart-shaped tattoo enclosing the name, “Susan.” From his smile and the way
