Not. Clue. One.

Glassy-eyed and trembly-kneed, I barely payed attention when Lucy removed my Guitar Hero™ t-shirt. Then pushed me over to the sink to make me gargle with a foul tasting Minty-Fresh!™mouthwash and brush my teeth. And drink a big glass of water with Alka Seltzer™ added.

Too numb from alcohol and adrenaline crash to notice as she pulled off my Nike Hightops™ and socks and then my Levis™ before shoving me into a tepid shower. I think I yelped at that cold water. Pushing my face to the tile wall, she yanked my Jockeys™ down and off and gave me a swat on my bare butt.

I turned my head to protest when I saw that the nylon nightgown she was wearing was soaked through from the shower spray. No longer hiding any details of her gender. She smirked at my 'gut' reaction, facial and phallical. Giving my butt another sharp, wet smack with her hand, she ordered me to finish up and go to bed.

Tossing my cookies and the cold shower helped me weave my way to my bed. I must have crawled in under the topsheet and passed out. I don't think I toweled off when I got out of the shower?

I'm pretty sure that I had gotten up a couple of times over the next few hours to pee. Cause the next day my sheets were damp, not stained. And the bed linens smelled like sweat, not urine, when I got around to changing my sheets.

***********

The sun was well up when Lucy again barged into my room, yelling for me to get up and come down to breakfast. My head popped up, jolted from sleep out from under my pillow.

Pain! The sunshine were like electrical shocks to my eyeballs. I rolled out of my bed to try to escape the strobing light and screeching mother-figure.

On my hands and knees I crawled around the floor to find something to wear. Pulling on the nearest pair of shorts and t-shirt, my squinting eyes saw. Before stumbling my way to the kitchen.

Lucy ordered me to sit down, handed me a glass of V8™ juice. That I downed in two gulps. Surprised me that I managed to gag the slimy, salty juice down without puking.

Then she placed a big bowl of hot Cream of Wheat™ in front of me. I dumped half a bowl of sugar into the steaming bowl of hot cereal in front of me, before I started shoveling it down.

When I was scrapping the bowl, about finished, she sat down across from me and asked "Did your father, ever tell you how the two of us met?"

If he did, I didn't remember, so I shook my head no.

***********

{Fall 1983}

"I was playing Jenny Towler in a traveling revival of "Threepenny Opera". After a dozen shows in six cities across four states. I was stressed out and physically exhausted. My voice was giving me a lot of trouble. I was missing the high notes and blowing my lines.

The Director had warned me the day before that the producers were fed up with me and bringing in a replacement. As soon as she caught up with us, I was going to get kicked loose. And I would have to give up my hotel room for her. I didn't have a car, we were traveling between gigs by a chartered bus.

To be honest, I only had a few bucks left in the bank. I had foolishly counted on getting a quick paycheck for this show. Plus, the Producers had made me verbal promises, (Yeah, verbal promises are worth the paper they're printed on!) that after this production finishes it's run, I might get the same part in the movie of the play.

The Producers had commissioned a film adaptation. Though as far as I know, that never did get made into a film.

Damn! I wanted a drink. A smoke. And a fuck. With some guy who wasn't a fucking prima dona! I had been sober for two years and almost a year off cigarettes to be able to keep singing and dancing. But that night I was ready to throw it all away just to escape my problems.

I was down in the hotel lobby, dithering about in front of the door to the bar. When a woman, a stranger, came up to me. Nodding her head towards the canned music and shrill laughter coming out the barroom door, she said.

"Hey sweetie. Tempting ain't it? You want to go in. I want to go in. Take that first sip of liquor... Feel it burn it's way down your throat. Just let yourself drift with the current."

She wasn't asking questions, she was telling me the exact decision I was wrestling with.

I looked at her. Not much to look at. Short, dumpy woman, dark complexion. Shoulder-length brown hair, with the grey starting to show. From her clothes, I'd guess a file clerk or teacher. But her eyes, were large and brown, with a sympathetic look of melancholic regrets for lost opportunities.

Which I recognized all too well from the crappy experiences of my own life. I muttered sarcastically to myself. 'Yeah. One drink, just one. That'll solve all my problems.'

She replied. "You're not alone dear." She held up an AA token, I think it was a four year sober token.

I pulled out the two year token I had on a neck-chain.

She motioned to a side hallway near the front counter and told me. "I'm Dotty. We are having a meeting tonight. Please join us."

Suddenly, there was a loud bellow of laughter and slurred voices behind us. Canned music and tinkling glassware as a couple came wavering out of the swinging doors to the bar.

I hesitated, swallowed my longing for the stupor of alcohol, looked beseechingly at Dotty and replied. "I'm Lucy and I am ready to join with your group."

We hugged, I think both of us had tears in our eyes. Then together, we headed down the hallway to the meeting room.

I remember how impressed I was by the size of the crowd attending this meeting. Three, maybe four dozen people? Most groups I've been at, usually had no more then a dozen or two attendees.

I gathered this was a special session. The head speaker, who was a local minister, had recently received a special award from the City for his charitable leadership. And that this was his twelfth year sober.

After introducing himself as Pastor Bob, he led a couple of prayers, gave a short speech thanking all his AA friends for their support and for their generous contributions of time and donations to the local charities. Then Pastor Bob served as Moderator to get other attendees to get up and give their testimonies.

Once Dotty had spoken, I introduced myself and made sure to thank Dotty for bringing me here tonight. Afterwards, about half the crowd stayed to share coffee and some baked goods a couple of members had brought.

Everybody that Dotty introduced me to, was so nice and supportive. The Minister and I had a few minutes alone. He listened to my tale of woe and gave me his blessing and encouragement.

As we rejoined the remaining half-dozen or so people, Dotty brought over a handsome, tall, fair-haired man, she introduced as Randolph."

************

Lucy gave me a raised eyebrow, silently asking me if I had been paying attention? Before pointing out what was obvious, even to a dumb teenager like me.

"Yes, Dear. It was your father."

I interrupted, excitedly.

"Thinking back, I don't remember ever seeing Pop drink anything but his big mugs of coffee? Black!?"

Lucy nodded and smiled sadly.

"Yeah, Randy was a strict teetotaler all the years we were together. Sure helped to keep me on the straight and narrow."

I interrupted to express my confusion.

"You don't forbid me from drinking? You even serve wine with our fancier dinners?"

My Step-Mother chewed her bottom lip for a second or two, visibly trying to decide how to answer.

"Let's face it... All your High School friends drink beer, whenever they can get it. Some harder booze stolen from their parents I guess. Some cigarettes, some pot.

Thanks to your extra-classes, dance, singing, gymnastics... You have avoided the smoking habit. Smart of you, I about ruined my career smoking. Even after kicking those bad habits, it was damn hard work getting my stamina back. Honestly? I never fully recovered.

If you only had a couple of beers, I wouldn't complain. Just don't drink and drive. Guys who brag about how much they can drink and how well they can drive are lying, dying idiots!"

I probably was giving her the teenage face of disbelief. Of course I am immortal and indestructible. Rock 'n Roll Forever!™

Then I remembered, last year the shock of the violent deaths of a carload of my school's Senior Class, They crashed and burned coming back from a party. Just a mile away from their homes. Other's at the same party admitted everyone had been consuming alcohol and pot.

Lucy interrupted my thoughts.

"The wine I serve, well thats another short-story. Years before I met your father, when I was still living in California. A roommate of mine, she was from France. She explained how their kids are slowly introduced to wine drinking. Try and build up a tolerance and teach them moderation.

No telling where your life will take you. There are people who could be important to your life, who might be impressed at your good manners and knowledge of fine dining etiquette."

She giggled and pointed out.

"When you are dating, it will really impress a woman that you know how to behave at a fancy restaurant."

My Step-Mom gave me a moment to consider the possibilities before continuing.

"You must have noticed I only keep a couple of small bottles around at a time and at least half of that I wind up using for cooking?"

Hey, clueless teenager here! I just shook my head and blurted out another question.

"So how did you and Dad ever get together? Was it after the meeting?"

Her face kinda scrunched up, as those old memories brought up old emotions. I took her hands and she looked grateful for my being so supportive.

Bravely, she continued.

"Dotty and I were talking. I think I was trying to sound her out about the odds of finding work in this area. I noticed that your Dad and Bob were quietly talking. Both looked up at me and the Minister waved me over.

I must have looked surprised and confused as I approached. Pastor Bob apologize to me straight off.

"Lucy, I must ask for your forgiveness for violating your confidence. What you told me about losing your position and how broke you are."

I probably just shrugged. Don't think I would take offense at someone who obviously had good intentions.

"I spoke of it to Randolph because frankly he is in a desperate situation himself. And I am thinking that the two of you could help each other out. At least temporarily."

Pastor Bob then withdrew to let us talk privately.

Randy told me about the tragedy of losing your mother and the difficulties of caring for you.

"My wife Christine died three years ago giving birth to our son Luke. My Mother and Mother-in-Law have been sharing taking care of the boy. I'm doing okay now at my business but I had almost lost it when I was drinking, trying to forget. Now, I'm working twelve hour days or more, six days a week, rebuilding.

Bad luck that both my Mom and Laurie's Mother are having health issues. Serious enough that they won't be physically able to take care of Luke much longer. I've tried, God knows I've tried! To find someone reliable and responsible to help out.

Trouble is, I can't pay much. I'm already scrabbling to pay some taxes I fell behind on and to restock my inventory. Daycare is priced way more than I can afford considering Luke would be with them at least ten or twelve or more hours a day.

The three housekeepers I have hired? The first one didn't bother coming back after her first day. The next was a lot more interested in watching TV than cleaning house or cleaning up after Luke. Also, she turned out a to be a terrible cook

The third? Oh God! My Mother-in-Law Maryann, came over to check on her and Luke only to find the woman going through my bank statements and other personal papers. The background check finally came back, a month later! Showing she had a police record for shoplifting and prostitution."

Okay, I thought but how does that help out my situation? I don't have the money to rent even a studio apartment and I sure as hell wasn't going to get any job references from the show.

Your Father must have been reading my mind because he he added a sweetener to the pot. "I have a three bedroom house. The room Luke's in and the guest bedroom share a bath. So you would have your own room and be able to take care of Luke.

I figure you can live with us rent free for a awhile. Until you can save up some money and decide what you want to do. At least it'd give my Mom and Maryann a rest and me time to search for a permanent housekeeper."

He sheepishly admitted how little he could pay but heck, he would be covering most of my living expenses! This offer was a lifesaver, bearing in mind my situation at the time. Especially considering the chance he would be taking? Letting a complete stranger into his home... To care for his child.

I was thinking Pastor Bob was being conservative when he said how desperate Randolph was. From Randy's haggard look I think he was exhausted and trying to juggle too many responsibilities at once.

Think about it! A baby son, two sick mothers, a a struggling business and still grieving for his wife, your Mother. While trying to deal with overcoming his inner demon of alcoholism."

She paused to make sure I was keeping up with all the details. Then she went on.

"Randy rashly went ahead and hired me on the spot . But I knew that he didn't have the final say. It would be Jennifer and Maryann, I would have to convince the both of them. That I could be trusted to take care of you and keep house for Randy.

All I had in the world was stuffed into a couple of suitcases, so I was moved in that night. Both your grand-mothers came over early the next morning. Your father introduced me and then left me with them to judge if I might work out. It would be their decision if I could stay.

I admitted that I hadn't taken care of a small child since I was a teenager, so they kindly gave me some pointers. Got you fed and cleaned up and set in your playpen with some toys. The three of us sat at the kitchen table , this kitchen table...where we could watch you and over coffee I gave them my biography.

***********

***********

(apprx 1960)

What little I had been told about my own birth parents was that they were a pair of reckless teenagers. My birth mother found out she was pregnant after my father was drafted into the Army and he'd already been bussed to Basic Training.

He was suppose to come home on leave to marry my mother, before shipping off to Korea or Vietnam or someplace equally miserable. Instead he went AWOL and that's the last anyone has ever heard of him.

After I was a few months old and it was apparent I was missing a parent. My mother put me up for adoption. Distant relatives of my father, who were unable to have children of their own, adopted me. They had a small farm in California, a few milk goats and chickens. Mostly vegetables, asparagus, sweet corn, lima beans.

Constance and Edgar Wilson were great parents and I loved them. But they were an older couple, Daddy Edgar died of a heart attack when I was eleven. Momma Connie and I struggled along for the next few years until she succumbed to breast cancer. A neighbor had bought their farm and that money paid for her care until her death. However that left me penniless.

A friend of my adoptive parents helped me get a residential charity scholarship to the Anointed Gospel Fellowship Academy which got me through the remainder of High School and started on the first year of college courses.

I plead the ignorance of youth. As a young woman, until I was taking those college classes, I had almost no experience with men. I had never been on a date or even kissed a boy!

I was seduced by one of the instructors. Thank God I did not get pregnant! The bastard was religious about using condoms, so there wouldn't be any evidence against him but my word.

We got caught by his wife! He blamed me for seducing him and I was expelled with only a few clothes in a satchel, a few bucks for meals and a bus ticket to LA.

Lucky for me, one of the other instructors had reason to believe my version of the affair. However, he was afraid to say anything against the Board of Elders. I think his name was Monroe?

Ten years before, Monroe's youngest sister had the very same experience with one of her instructors. Who was now one of the sanctimonious Academy Elders who smugly condemned me as a harlot!

Monroe secretly gave me his sister Alice's address and enough money for a taxi from the Hollywood Greyhound Station to Alice's apartment. She commiserated with how I was abused as a scapegoat for male hypocrisy.

She allowed me to stay a week. However, Alice was packing up her household. Planning to join her fiance in Phoenix where he had gotten a job with the city fire department.

Generously, considering all she still had to do. Scheduling her nuptials and moving. Alice took the time to arrange with a friend of hers, a safe place for me to live and a temporary holiday sales job.

Her friend Jody Miller, owned a two bedroom townhouse in Santa Monica, which she shared with two other girls. Just about a mile from the beach. Expensive but the four of us struggled to make ends meet. The other girls came and went. One of those temporary girls was Jeannette, the French girl I told you about.

We all worked whatever jobs were available. Jody became a dealer at the Card Palace. I started waitressing full-time for an old-fashioned burger drive-in on Sunset Boulevard. People would pull in and park, while we glided around on roller-skates to serve them. Silly, I know but I did look good in satin hotpants!

Meanwhile, Jody was teaching me how to professionally deal cards. Finally she wheedled her boss into letting me start at the Card Palace.

I was proficient enough as a dealer and personable enough, jollying the players along. That before the end of the year, both Jody and I were making enough pay and tips that we didn't need other tenants to help out. So I got my own room and we both fixed the place up nice, Even got ourselves an old car.

Jody had warned me about the smooth-talking Hollywood crowd. But I still fell for a slick line. Emilio Ferenza had the looks. Tall, slim, dark and handsome. A brash exuberance with a seductively smooth style and muted Brooklyn accent that set my heart all aflutter.

Emilio sweet talked me into trying out as an actress. IHe got me bit parts in in a several straight to video, low-budget soft-porn knockoffs of big-name movies. Smartly, I used fake names while Jody helped me dye my hair and change my looks with judicious makeup.

Cause one of the moneymen for that copycat studio thought I had some actual unrealized talent. Lenny Strutz. No, not his real name, I never did discover his real name. But, you can find a hundred or more videos, made that decade with Lenny Strutz listed as director and/or producer.

He convinced Emilio that I might have a chance at success in Hollywood if I got some training. And I didn't even have to sleep with the guy!

I was taking classes in dance, singing and acting when I moved in with Emilio. The last time I heard from Jody, she had sold her townhouse for a hefty profit and moved to Los Vegas.

She invested in a chain of Dealer Schools and for a while, she became semi-famous. As the elegant hostess and unflappable card dealer for big-money poker tournaments.

I think Lenny had to have put in a good word for me with the famous filmmaker, Aaron Goldstein. Cause I got a call out of the blue from Gold Films Studio to come in for a screen test.

I wound up with bit-parts as the beautiful, dumb blonde, murder victim. Wearing nothing more than flimsy negligees. Loudly screaming as my tits bounced across the screen while I was being chased by the maniac or the monster or the maniac's monster in a half-dozen cheesy horror movies.