12bis Plum Lovin' by Janet Evanovich Page A

Lula said, "you just keep singing 'Jingle Bells,' and before you know it you can collect your fifteen dollars and leave."
     
    "I could do that," Grandma said. "I can sing 'Jingle Bells,' and I could use an extra fifteen dollars."
     
    Vanessa Dickbender let out a shriek, and we all sucked in some air.
     
    "What was that?" Jeanine wanted to know "What happened?"
     
    "That might have been a orgasm," Lula said.
     
    "Yikes," Jeanine said. "It sounded painful."
     
    Lula sat back. "Yeah, it was probably fake, but I guess it was supposed to be a big one."
     
    Jeanine poured herself another glass of wine.
     
    "I think he's getting to the end," Lula said. "I can tell on account of all the veins have popped out in Big Chief's face, and he looks like he's gonna have a heart attack. How long's he been doing this anyway?"
     
    "It's been going on for about forty minutes now," I told her.
     
    "Nobody got staying power like Big Chief," Lula said. "He did it in the back of a car one time for ninety minutes. The film is a classic. And I hear they had to hook him up to one of them IV fluid bags when he was done."
     
    "This is kind of scary," Jeanine said. "Maybe I should learn CPR."
     
    "It won't be scary," I said to Jeanine. "You'll be fine. Just keep singing 'Jingle Bells.'"
     
    It was early afternoon when I dropped Grandma off at my parents' house.
     
    "Sorry you missed the viewing," I told her.
     
    "That's okay," she said. "It's not every day I get to see a real good educational film. And I'll get another crack at Elaine tonight."
     
    I watched to make sure Grandma got inside, and then I took off. I drove two blocks, and my cell phone rang.
     
    "I'm right behind you," Diesel said. "Pull over and park. I want to talk to you."
     
    I parked at the curb and got out of my car. Diesel did the same. He was driving a shiny black Corvette that was in direct contrast to all the other salt-and-grime-encrusted cars on the road.
     
    "Nice car," I said. "Clean."
     
    "How'd it go with Betty Beaner?"
     
    "Turns out Bernie snores."
     
    "And?"
     
    "Betty can't sleep. She wants her own room, so she can sleep."
     
    "That's it?"
     
    "She wants a television in the room. And she wants better sex."
     
    "Honey, we all want better sex."
     
    I raised an eyebrow.
     
    "What?" Diesel said.
     
    "Someone needs to talk to Bernie."
     
    "Not me."
     
    "I thought you were the big sex hotshot."
     
    "I do okay, but I'm not giving Bernie a birds and bees talk. Guys don't do that. It's… weird."
     
    "Yes, but you're an Unmentionable guy."
     
    Diesel had his thumbs hooked into his jeans pockets, and his face set on don't mess with me.
     
    "Fine," I said to him. "Have it your way. Don't talk to poor Bernie. Go shut him down."
     
    "I don't believe this," Diesel said. "It just gets worse and worse. Bad enough I have to play cupid to a butcher, button maker, and veterinarian… now I have to be sex therapist for a guy who gives people a rash."
     
    "It could be fun. Male bonding and all that. And while we're on the subject of sex instruction, I delivered the bag to Jeanine and watched the movie with her."
     
    This got a grin out of Diesel. "Did you like it?"
     
    "It was horrible, but we watched it twice."
     
    Diesel laughed out loud.
     
    "It's the ultimate chick flick. When Dickbender screamed at the end Jeanine turned white and had a third glass of wine. How's the Bernie hunt going?"
     
    "It's not. I can't find him," Diesel said. "I'm getting no vibes at all. Does his wife know how to get in touch with him?"
     
    "No. I left her my card, and she said she'd call if he made contact. How about Annie? Anything on her?"
     
    "Can't find her either," Diesel said. "It's like the two of them have gone to the moon."
     
    "They can't actually do that, can they?"
     
    "Honey, we're a little freaky… we're not NASA."
     
    I was hit by a gust of wind, and I hunkered down into my jacket, my breath making frost clouds in front of me. Diesel pulled me close