“Hey, darlin,”Betty drawls, sauntering over to greet me at her restaurant like the redneck royalty she is. “I’m so glad you decided to come and pay me a visit. I’ve been missing you.” And the craziest part of this new relationship with my self-appointed fairy godmother… I believe she means every word.
“What brings you down here? I thought you were enjoying the mountain life.”
“I don’t know.” My voice cracks under the strain of my overwhelm. “Everyone was really nice. And I loved being able to spend so much time with my best friend. But my ordinary life was easy. And now I feel a bit like a fish out of water.”
Betty wraps her arm around me, steering me toward a quiet tablein the back. Pulling a chair out, she motions for me to sit down. She has her hair down today. Her long tresses are wild and over-processed. The almost-platinum locks bring a stark contrast to her pale skin, cherry red lips, and black cat eye makeup. She resembles an actress from a John Waters movie.
All of a sudden, she raises her hand in the air and snaps her fingers. “Gerald! Bring Mama a Jack and Coke. And get this little lady a margarita with a salty rim!”
Leaning in, I give her a pointed look. “Okay. I need to know your secret.”
She mimics my pose, whispering back, “What secret?”
“How the hell do you snap your fingers and bark out orders and get men to do your bidding?”
“Because I deserve it.” She grins proudly. “And one day you’ll figure out that you do too.” She leans back in her chair, her eyes never leaving mine. “Stick with me, doll. I’ll teach you everything you need to know.” She nods as Gerald rushes to her side with her drink before running back to the bar like a man on a mission.
“You’re truly impressive.”
“That I am.” She takes a sip of her cocktail. “But I wasn’t always.”
My brow lifts. I can’t even imagine this.
“I was a pathetic old cow.” She places her drink down in front of her, the expression on her face one of sheer disgust. “When I was young and stupid, I fell for this really handsome boy. He promised me the moon. And I believed him. We got hitched, and it didn’t take long before we had a baby on the way.” She stares off in the distance briefly before continuing.
“He told me he wanted to take care of us, so he took a job on an oil rig. Was gone a lot. Working hard while I struggled to raise our son alone. My parents didn’t approve of our relationship. They wanted me to marry a nice boy from back home. One who went to college and church on Sundays. Not the high school dropout I was over the moon for. So, I was on my own.”
Gerald rushes back over with my cocktail, his eyes flashing longingly at Betty before striding back over to his station behind the bar.
I take a sip of my drink as Betty continues. “Year after year, it was the same. I’d raise our son. He’d work on the rig. Harlan would be away for weeks to months at a time. Most of his time off was spent hanging out with his friends at the bike club or at the bar. He made it real clear he wasn’t interested in family life.”
She takes another sip, her expression more forlorn this time. “It wasn’t long before it took its toll on us. Once we split, I made the decision to be the best mother to Charlie I could. I took a job as a waitress once he was in school. My life was completely dedicated to him. I baked cookies for his class, chaperoned field trips, attended parent-teacher association meetings. I was the model woman.”
With my chin in my hand, I sit transfixed, listening to her story.
“And lonely as fuck.” Betty takes another sip of her drink. “But I told myself, once he graduated and was living his own life, I could start mine.And I did.I dyed my mousy brown hair red, traded my cardigans for corsets, and started carrying myself like one of my favorite television characters.”
I sit up in my seat. “Who’s that?”
“Miss Kitty. FromGunsmoke.”
My head tilts to one side. “Who?”
“Haha. Before your time, doll. It was a Western series on TV back in the fifties. The restaurant I worked at was a saloon that kept reruns playing over the bar. Miss Kitty was this voluptuous redhead who owned the Long Branch Saloon. It was implied she was also a madam of the brothel there. She was hella sexy.” Betty’s eyes take on a dreamy expression as she describes the actress.
“Her character was a proud, resilient woman in a male-dominated world. I loved everything about her. So, I decided to be a modern-day Kathleen Russell. I was going to love ’em and leave ’em. Never giving my heart away to another useless man. Instead, I was taking what I wanted and leaving them crawling back for more.” She dips her chin as if to punctuate her statement before lifting her glass to her lips.
“Wow,” I breathe, utterly impressed with her story of transformation.
“I was leaving my timid past behind and embracing all life had to offer. I knew I’d never trust a man enough to marry again. Hell, I’d given eighteen years to being a momanda dad. It wasmy timeto do whatever, or whomever, the hell I wanted. So, I did it all. Got tattoos. Learned how to play pool. And slept with women and men, young and old.”
Betty leans in as if she’s about to impart the secret of life. “And if I’ve learned anything, there’s nothing more alluring to a man than a woman who isn’t interested in more.” She straightens. “Not sure if it’s her confidence they find attractive or simply wanting what they can’t have. But they keep crawling back, hoping for more.”
My mind drifts to that first night with Dave. Had wanting more merely been a challenge for him too? A frown tugs at the corner of my mouth. The thought is depressing. And honestly doesn’t align with the man I’ve come to know.
“What’s the matter? You look sad all of a sudden.”
I shake my head. “Just considering whether I might’ve unknowingly been a similar conquest.”
